tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-236728982011-12-14T19:08:21.510-07:00Wouldn't it be lovely if, with just a twitch of the nose, life, or any aspect of it could be changed. Instead, positive changes always seem to involve tremendously hard work, determination, and endless setbacks. How lovely it would be to have the powers of Samantha Stephens.Samanthanoreply@blogger.comBlogger3921100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-82335751463986066002007-05-12T21:21:00.000-06:002007-05-29T14:05:17.747-06:00

This blog is finished. To those of you who have commented and lent support, thank you and I love you. I wish you well.P.S. Okay, I admit that I was sort of abrupt. I also admit I have many other blogs. I hope you'll come visit me at my new one.

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-34271971217422427632007-05-12T17:43:00.000-06:002007-05-12T18:16:22.493-06:00

So now I am here. I understand much of what has happened and what I need. A few nights ago I gave a recital. In the past I have analyzed each performance, agonized over every tiny mistake, and felt miserable that I might not have played perfectly. That night I took my bows and walked off the stage feeling an interesting sensation. Something happened. As I left the concert hall and walked to my

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-26400993964848700772007-05-11T21:34:00.000-06:002007-05-12T08:38:51.569-06:00

Most of what I wrote in the last post is just reiteration of previously posted information, but I'm trying to put everything where it belongs. I realized as I was researching grief (something that started in January), that I actually started the process long ago, but kept stopping it from completion because the anguish it aroused was too difficult to cope with, and also because there was too much

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-65254419090431512462007-05-11T08:04:00.000-06:002007-05-11T17:54:03.613-06:00

I almost don't know how to begin this post. When I met with Therapist a couple of months ago he said that I was in "working" mode, and that I had been there for nearly eight months. He told me that when we first met in August I was numb (and I was so much better then than I has been six months prior to that--I wonder what he would have thought of me if he'd met me at the very beginning of my

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-56231279346456805422007-05-10T14:42:00.000-06:002007-05-10T14:43:39.994-06:00

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-77640145533540239902007-05-10T08:00:00.000-06:002007-05-10T09:01:26.230-06:00

Grief Stage: I don't want to do this anymoreStrangulat inclusus dolor, atque exaestuat intus,Cogitur et vires multiplicare suas. ~Ovid (Tristium)Surely there's a better way. Last night I stayed up until 4:30 a.m. Fortunately for me, I had company until 2:00 (just a warning--if you call me late at night, I probably won't stop talking, and you may have to hang up on me, as my friend did last night)

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-49972207882042423602007-05-09T11:41:00.000-06:002007-05-09T12:16:25.313-06:00

In the past eight weeks I have spent large amounts of time with the ever-so-attractive AtP. Our activities have spanned everything from the spiritual (attending General Conference and a singles' ward church service--okay, we weren't exactly spiritual, but we would have been if that were possible, and I was very well-behaved when By a Single Thread was teaching the Sunday School lesson, and I

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-23095662086528228282007-05-07T22:50:00.000-06:002007-05-08T11:08:50.070-06:00

Junior High boys are something of a puzzle to me. They're about as awkward as any creature made. They alternate between swagger and mortification. They seem to feel things more fiercely at this time in their lives than at any other--or perhaps they just learn to hide it later in life. My Adam is thirteen. He's intent on challenging stereotypes this year. He has a group of friends who think he's

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-78298676667066368922007-05-07T12:28:00.000-06:002007-05-07T13:07:18.076-06:00

Grief Stages: Bargaining and DepressionYou can clutch the past so tightly to your chest that it leaves your arms too full to embrace the present. ~Jan Glidewell There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition, and of unspeakable love. ~

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-56419888802930063212007-05-06T09:33:00.000-06:002007-05-06T11:20:38.805-06:00

Grief Stage: AngerGive sorrow words; the grief that does not speak whispers the o'er-fraught heart and bids it break. ~William ShakespeareIf you're going through hell, keep going. ~Winston ChurchillThe truth about all this grieving crap is that I know I've been in this process probably for many years--I just kept putting it on hold. So I suppose the only difference now is that I'm allowing it to

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-16217253368320128562007-05-06T09:14:00.001-06:002007-05-06T09:24:25.022-06:00

If you have a bad cough, take an entire bottle of laxatives. The desire to cough will magically go away.

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-41824694792868458222007-05-05T09:28:00.000-06:002007-05-05T09:33:10.632-06:00

Living Life Backwards I want to live my next life backwards: You start out dead and get that out of the way. Then you wake up in an old age home feeling better every day. Then you get kicked out for being too healthy. You enjoy your retirement and collect your pension. Then when you start work, you get a gold watch on your first day. You work 40 years until you're too young to work. You

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-62116819631352654002007-05-05T08:52:00.002-06:002007-05-05T09:16:14.163-06:00

Grief Stage: DenialI've done this. I'd like to say I'm finished with it, but I'm not. There is so much of me that rebels at accepting the fact that I could be hurt by anyone. It's defensive, I know, but it's also very real. However, I believe I'm making progress. Even though I hate it, I acknowledge much of what I used to ignore, and even though I don't want to, I'm accepting that many of my

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-71078411702261265812007-05-05T08:52:00.001-06:002007-05-05T08:52:34.944-06:00

Have a bad toothache? Smash your thumb with a hammer and you will forget all about the toothache.

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-59821903223715251892007-05-04T13:41:00.000-06:002007-05-04T13:45:41.230-06:00

This one wins hands down, and I think it's really funny that the visitor found my blog through this search:"What sort of magical trucks do witches play on people?"Wow. I really do wish I had a magical truck.

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-27239495857317721992007-05-04T10:36:00.000-06:002007-05-04T11:07:46.210-06:00

There are certain things I cannot endure--especially if you are a straight man.1. Never assume that because I'm married that I'm straight. Your bigoted beliefs, regardless of whether or not they are vox populi among your equally ignorant and intolerant peers, are reprehensible, inane, vacuous and just plain vile. The anguish you exacerbate among those you revile is inexcusable and if there is

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-36883713242353685242007-05-04T02:01:00.000-06:002007-05-04T00:51:40.731-06:00

A mousetrap placed on top of your alarm clock will prevent you from rolling over and going back to sleep after you hit the snooze button.

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-45072341696468767532007-05-03T22:02:00.000-06:002007-05-04T00:51:04.027-06:00

The five stages, denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance are a part of the framework that makes up our learning to live with loss. They are tools to help us frame and identify what we may be feeling. But they are not stops on some linear timeline in grief. Not everyone goes through all of them or in a prescribed order. The stages have evolved since their introduction and they have

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-42461158709183555232007-05-03T12:02:00.000-06:002007-05-03T12:04:54.227-06:00

Grief is the healing process that ultimately brings us comfort in our pain.I don't want to do this. To me grieving means the following:1. I suffered a loss.2. Something was taken from me.3. I needed something that I didn't receive.4. I was vulnerable.5. I am vulnerable still.6. At some point I was weak.7. I must feel sadness.8. I will have to let something go.9. I will lose something more.10. I

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-61886325890236735382007-05-03T09:12:00.001-06:002007-05-03T12:06:09.763-06:00

You can avoid arguments with girls about lifting the toilet seat just by using the sink.

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-5767126421461798992007-05-02T21:10:00.000-06:002007-05-03T09:10:54.748-06:00

If you are choking on an ice cube, don't panic. Simply pour a cup of boiling water down your throat and – presto - the blockage will be almost instantly removed.

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-39418925449412111762007-05-02T14:27:00.002-06:002007-05-02T15:13:56.116-06:00

Okay, we all knew it was too good to last. I find my one true love, and wouldn't you know, he leaves me. He did tell me he would miss me, and that he's sad to leave me behind. And then something about his wife loving the fact that she's going back to Utah...apparently she has something I don't...oh yeah, she's married to him...and attracted to him...okay, I know when I can't compete...I met with

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-68453972993546838962007-05-02T11:41:00.000-06:002007-05-02T11:42:32.918-06:00

Clumsy? Avoid cutting yourself while slicing vegetables by getting someone else to hold them while you chop away.

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-17999152493518006682007-05-01T21:22:00.000-06:002007-05-01T21:23:38.689-06:00

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-28709104786047395032007-04-30T02:02:00.000-06:002007-04-30T23:11:42.333-06:00

It's 2 a.m. I should be sleeping.Many things have happened recently. For awhile things were on an upswing and I was making incredible progress very quickly. Then everything came to a grinding halt. Heartache and betrayal are a part of life. There's some of that happening in my own right now. In order to protect my reputation, because I am known personally now to so many people, I have removed any

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-90423215852660568272007-04-29T21:43:00.000-06:002007-04-29T21:44:54.671-06:00

Four-year-old Nephew: Look! We found some ants!Me: Is that what you have in that can?Four-year-old Nephew: Yep! See! They're nice!Me: I guess they are. You sure have a lot of ants in there.Four-year-old Nephew: Yep! Want to smell them?

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-19744405532005315562007-04-29T21:25:00.000-06:002007-04-29T21:30:56.123-06:00

Four-year-old Nephew: My dad took me to see the radio once.Me: Really? What happened when you went to see the radio?Four-year-old Nephew: Well, there were some bad cowboys and some good cowboys.Me: Are you sure it was a radio?Four-year-old Nephew: Yep.Me: Tell me about the cowboys.Four-year-old Nephew: The bad cowboys rode some horses and chased cows until they caught them with a rope. Then they

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-6725167842929206142007-04-28T22:24:00.000-06:002007-04-29T08:19:34.268-06:00

My father chose not to raise sheep. He did that as a youth and didn't enjoy it, and really could see no financial benefit to adding those animals to our farm. In our third year of farming, however, one day my father brought home a bum lamb. Lambs are often born in pairs. It's not uncommon for the mother to abandon one and not allow it to nurse. Those are referred to as "bum lambs" and must be

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-74796343634167772142007-04-28T22:20:00.000-06:002007-04-28T22:24:14.922-06:00

I spent nine years of my life on a dairy farm. As the second of five girls, I was a farmhand. I fed calves, cleaned the chicken coop, gathered eggs, drove tractors, seeded fields, harvested grain and hay, helped in the barn, raised and trained horses, cats, lambs, dogs and other various animals. I don't care if I never have contact with a cow or chicken again. There are some things that I just

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-13993075685127019112007-04-27T12:58:00.000-06:002007-04-27T12:59:21.383-06:00

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-16479957037154179992007-04-26T08:39:00.000-06:002007-05-12T21:24:20.076-06:00

Life is hard. And for many people life is brutally unfair. I'd like to believe that death is the wiping away of every worry, care, heartache, trauma and fear that you experienced and carried through life. Death should be the complete safety that the nature of living never affords you.

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-47387453719221260132007-04-25T15:43:00.000-06:002007-04-25T17:58:42.839-06:00

I just have to say this: I love -L-.I love the fact that he lets dialogue take place in his comments, regardless of whether or not he agrees or disagrees.I love the fact that he'll do almost anything to garner a surfeit of comments--and he revels in that.I love the fact that AtP believes that -L- is not actually a real person, but is, in reality, my male alter ego, and is still confused as to why

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-16211191355654580002007-04-25T10:01:00.000-06:002007-04-25T11:03:50.910-06:00

There are many lessons that can be learned from this parable. I thought I'd found or heard them all. But one more detail was pointed out to me last week.I have a friend who is walking a path where I cannot follow. Naturally, this is a rather painful fork in the road, because I will always love him, and I've spent lots of time with him in the past months. So I struggle with the part of me that

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-45669807045587795992007-04-24T21:44:00.001-06:002007-04-24T21:49:25.622-06:00

Some people emailed me today. Three had noticed that my blog has changed. One was searching for a former post and couldn't find it. A few others noticed that my sidebar is different.Actually, I was a little surprised. I have a firm belief that no one actually reads my posts, they just look at the titles and make up whatever they believe would go well with those. Apparently I misjudged those who

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-27658216255353478932007-04-24T07:23:00.000-06:002007-04-24T10:37:30.360-06:00

Once upon a time, a long, long time ago, back in September (because I just can't decide how I want to begin this post, so I'm being all-inclusive today), I met Tolkien Boy online. We talked about everything. He confessed deep, dark secrets and I made certain everything was saved in my Gmail for future blackma...I mean, reference. I tried to confess deep, dark secrets, but as I have none, that

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-15484616506824821702007-04-23T20:28:00.000-06:002007-04-24T10:42:05.912-06:00

Occasionally the seminary teacher loses control of her class. This would be less of a problem if she didn't think her students were so hilarious.Seminary Teacher: Give me some examples of times in the past that the Lord has asked unusual things of people.Various predictable answers from class: Nephi is told to kill Laban, Abraham is asked to sacrifice Isaac, Israelites are cured from snakebite

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-16825097684052507122007-04-20T07:52:00.000-06:002007-04-20T08:26:12.916-06:00

Last night AtP asked me why I've been hiding the past few days--and I have been. The truth is that I've been recovering from a recital performance, a more busy than usual tax season, and I've been researching (of course) grieving, because if I have to do that, then I want to know everything about it first. I've been drafting information and will soon post about the topic when I have everything

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-29428219163271301942007-04-18T20:49:00.000-06:002007-05-12T21:24:38.252-06:00

Grief is the healing process that ultimately brings us comfort in our pain.The five stages, denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance are a part of the framework that makes up our learning to live with the one we lost. They are tools to help us frame and identify what we may be feeling. But they are not stops on some linear timeline in grief. Not everyone goes through all of them or in

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-29454356176323712002007-04-18T08:04:00.000-06:002007-04-18T08:08:16.792-06:00

Perhaps I know why it is man alone who laughs: He alone suffers so deeply that he had to invent laughter. Precisely the least, the softest, lightest, a lizard's rustling, a breath, a flash, a moment - a little makes the way of the best happiness. Shared joys make a friend, not shared sufferings.

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-91698924022616507402007-04-18T06:04:00.000-06:002007-04-18T06:10:22.959-06:00

Yesterday was glorious. The sun shone, the sky was incredibly blue, the wind was soft, and when I went running I noticed the wildflowers are beginning to bloom. That was ante meridian.Around noon the clouds rolled in. Within a matter of minutes the sky was dark with them and I was using artificial light in my house. Lightning and thunder put on a spectacular display aurally and visually and we

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-12768988197862234992007-04-17T20:51:00.000-06:002007-05-12T21:24:51.836-06:00

I'm making great progress. I'm putting everything together, drawing wonderful conclusions, finding out what I need to know. Thanks, Therapist.So why am I becoming more sad? I thought this was supposed to make me better.

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-1929403643584812602007-04-15T21:00:00.000-06:002007-05-12T21:25:10.197-06:00

Yeah, I'm still reading Nietzsche. Not that I agree with all that he says, but I love the things he makes me think about when I am both agreeing and disagreeing with him.I have so much to learn. This is exhausting.In my life I have been emotionally intimate with exactly one person. I think I'm beginning to let others come closer, but just when I think I'm really doing well, letting people know

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-76458696721880048652007-04-15T11:21:00.000-06:002007-05-12T21:25:48.247-06:00

Okay, so I found this old internet game you can play, and it goes like this:Google your name and the word "needs" in quotes, then list the top 20 things you need. My results:1. Samantha needs sex.2. Samantha needs prayers and financial support.3. Samantha needs to have highly stable, consistent, predictable environments.4. Samantha needs some cheering up.5. Samantha needs a home.6. Samantha needs

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-36399837641261717252007-04-13T09:33:00.000-06:002007-05-12T21:25:26.033-06:00

Sometimes I just want to be like everyone else.I know that's stupid because every person is different.I suppose what I mean is that I'd like life to be fairly straightforward with no second guesses or hidden meanings.Just when I begin to see what I need to do to grow and progress, life throws me a curve ball, reminding me that nothing is easy, and really there is no place, no person who is always

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-45530609787970920442007-04-12T09:11:00.000-06:002007-05-12T21:25:59.120-06:00

Sister Three called my husband an "angel". She said I was blessed to have a person who could share my life who was able to think beyond normal boundaries and see the benefit of allowing me to grow and progress in unusual circumstances. She's absolutely right.Sister Three pointed out that faithful members of the church have been cautioned against being alone with members of the opposite sex to

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-16919497572089028562007-04-11T17:21:00.001-06:002007-04-11T18:49:12.790-06:00

You must have chaos within you to give birth to a dancing star.--Friedrich Nietzsche

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-19905997784613190522007-04-08T15:44:00.002-06:002007-04-09T09:49:46.651-06:00

It's Easter and I have one flower blooming. It's a small orange pansy that hasn't yet figured out that it's an annual left over from last year. I must say, it's a very brave flower considering that it was covered with more than a foot of snow last week. I'm reconsidering the slang connotation of the word "pansy".I've been thinking about the atonement and Christ a lot lately. I actually think

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-48348037954894704262007-04-07T21:36:00.000-06:002007-05-12T21:26:33.232-06:00

So there was actually another question that I asked Tolkien Boy on the phone, but I don't think it's necessary to beat the dead horse. Suffice it to say that I was wrong.I was driving home from Utah on Tuesday. I'd met some really wonderful people, and visited with friends. I'd spent time with my family. I was alone and thinking like crazy. I was thinking about my last visit with Therapist and

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-76767368949895921482007-04-06T22:30:00.000-06:002007-05-12T21:26:50.084-06:00

me: Do you like the stuff you write?Tolkien Boy: Usually. I hate it when it doesn't do what I want it to do. But, I always enjoy looking at it, and reviewing what I said, and what I said. I'm kind of an ego freak maybe.me: No. It's when you're your best self maybe? Sometimes I listen to recordings of what I've played, and I think, "Wow--that's beautiful. I don't think I can ever play in quite the

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-35713973681090703152007-04-06T22:14:00.000-06:002007-05-12T21:27:05.932-06:00

me: Are you ready to answer more questions?Tolkien Boy: Of course, of course.me: I don't like these questions.Tolkien Boy: Okay. Do you want me not to like them, either?me: You won't. However, since I seem to be compelled to do as I've been asked, I'm going to ask the assigned questions.Tolkien Boy: All right. I'm ready.me: And you remember all the crap about honest answers, no emotional

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-88368234943418347222007-04-06T13:13:00.000-06:002007-05-12T21:27:20.230-06:00

me: These are Therapist's ground rules:1. The questions must be answered honestly.2. There can be no consideration of feelings.3. It doesn't matter what I think. The truth is what I'm supposed to find--and I'm tougher than I look.4. This is research/fact gathering. All emotions are on hold.Tolkien Boy: All right. That seems reasonable.me: We'll start with the first question on his list. Then I'll

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-1184237266483165552007-04-06T12:45:00.000-06:002007-05-12T21:27:35.644-06:00

There's a lot going on in my head right now. I can't seem to process everything. I'm confused about what I'm feeling, what I'm thinking. I told Darrin for the first time in all the years that we've been married, that I've always felt that one day he would leave me. He was astounded. It's incomprehensible to him that I could ever think that. He doesn't understand that I feel that way about

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-68326737747231990182007-04-05T10:53:00.000-06:002007-05-12T21:27:50.255-06:00

When I talked with my sister on Tuesday I found out a number of things that are making me feel unusually emotional.1. She knew I was being molested. She saw what was happening. She was nine. In her mind, I was grown up. She thought, because I made no move to stop it, that I was consenting. As an adult, she knew something should be said, but did not know how to procede.2. She was never held or

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-2847057823442467222007-04-04T20:01:00.000-06:002007-05-12T21:28:04.919-06:00

Darrin got his results from his last blood test today. His cholesterol is thirty points higher. His triglycerides are nearly 700. He has elevated stuff in his thyroid whatever. Nearly everything that should be lower is higher. I keep remembering that Darrin's father suffered his first heart attack at age 43. I keep remembering that his mother had quintuple bypass surgery at 59 and suffered heart

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-36660042125125809422007-04-04T11:57:00.000-06:002007-05-12T21:28:28.423-06:00

I get up and get ready to leave for home. Sister Three wants to talk. We chat for awhile. I tell her I'm gay. She tells me she's bisexual. All in all, a fairly interesting conversation.I leave for home. The trip is uneventful. I arrive 30 minutes before my first piano student comes. I teach lessons for a couple of hours and then fix dinner.I'm tired--in more ways than I can count. And for some

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-50845771546936519522007-04-04T11:44:00.000-06:002007-05-12T21:28:45.036-06:00

I'm supposed to pick up AtP this morning. I go work out, then go to my room and shower. I'm getting ready when my mom shows up at my door insisting I join them for breakfast. I tell her I need to get ready because AtP has a deadline. She makes some comment about my needing to spend time with my daughter before she leaves me today, then something about being concerned about my eating disorder, and

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-76526154271607837372007-04-04T11:25:00.000-06:002007-05-12T21:29:09.865-06:00

I get up late and chat with Sister Four while our daughters go swimming. My dad comes to our room and we have breakfast together. He leaves and Sister Four and I go to the workout room. We watch conference while we work out. I believe if there were more opportunities to work out during church the membership would increase dramatically. Just a statistical thought.Sister Four and I go back to our

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-30159880611633281372007-04-04T10:49:00.000-06:002007-05-12T21:29:29.519-06:00

I wake my sister (sister number 4) up early. Our daughters are swimming in the hotel pool. I tell Sister 4 that I'm gay. I get up and go running. I'm at an elevation 4000 feet lower than that at which I live. I run for a very long time. Tabitha joins me in the workout room. My sister and niece have gone to the conference center with my parents. I'm supposed to pick up AtP and meet my friend/

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-16587903403850887342007-04-04T07:51:00.000-06:002007-05-12T21:29:54.388-06:00

We've been snowed in for two days now. The roads opened at 9:30 this morning and we left for Utah. I'm supposed to meet up with Loyalist and AtP around 3:30. I swear, every big rig in the U.S. has been stuck in our town since the snowstorm. I know this because they are all on I-80 going 5 mph. The meeting with friends is looking dismal.Traffic finally picks up after about 30 minutes and we move

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-77104488903459663132007-04-01T22:29:00.000-06:002007-05-12T21:30:14.837-06:00

In the Conference Center:1. If you're somewhat large, please don't take half my seat, forcing me to cuddle with AtP (who is very cuddly, I'm sure, but this is neither the time nor the place.2. No wearing ties with cows appliqued on them.3. Even if you're husband and wife, you should not do things with your hand on your partner's inner thigh.4. No picking your nose repeatedly throughout the

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-47118424803213670152007-03-29T22:44:00.000-06:002007-05-12T21:30:31.865-06:00

Okay, this doesn't mean I'm finished with therapy. I have to continue for a little while longer. But I'm going to finish up my very long report in this post.Therapist and I spent some time discussing Darrin's role in all that I've done over the past few months. I'm so incredibly blessed to have him. Then we talked about some of the fun things I did with other people when I was in Utah. Finally we

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-83247496150276531632007-03-29T16:24:00.001-06:002007-05-12T21:30:49.608-06:00

From C-Fam: At the Human Rights Council in Geneva this week, a radical homosexual umbrella group released a homosexual rights document authored by several UN human rights officials that claims that even the youngest children are capable of discerning their sexual identity and they should be given governmentally protected free reign to express it. The document goes on to demand revision of

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-82546486030911691782007-03-29T15:57:00.000-06:002007-05-12T21:31:07.203-06:00

Therapist was really interested in what happened after lunch on Wednesday, almost moreso than in what happened in the meeting with my cousin. So I told him about the walk in the park, and the return to my hotel where I was allowed to express all the nastiness I was feeling inside. I told him Tolkien Boy held me while I slept. Therapist asked me what my reaction to all that was. My answer:1. The

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-12297297451339153582007-03-28T19:44:00.000-06:002007-05-12T21:31:56.001-06:00

I posted the background in my last post because of its pertinence to my experiences a couple of weeks ago. Tolkien Boy and I worked together as I tried to get rid of my nightmares for close to two months. For me it was extremely hard work, and I hated the fact that I had to rely on someone as I tried to control my dreams. At this point the nightmares occur rarely, and are usually less real--more

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-42142358240975443582007-03-28T08:43:00.000-06:002007-05-12T21:31:24.368-06:00

I was talking to Jason on the phone Sunday night and mentioned that I'm no longer having dialogue with those who comment on my blog. This is rude, I know. So I'm apologizing now, but I also have to say that the past few months have been intensely emotional and accompanied by a horrible lack of sleep. I'm so grateful to those of you who have taken time to talk on my blog, give me a phone call, or

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-76090845285445130382007-03-26T22:43:00.000-06:002007-05-12T21:33:06.647-06:00

Stupid Therapist says that the reason I can't "finish", in essence, hand my hurt to the Savior, is because I don't believe that anyone really loves me. When someone treats me with love or does something beautiful or sweet to help me, I make up reasons that those things were done, none of which have to do with love or friendship. I don't believe it's possible to love me or remain friends with me--

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-48215110147435151592007-03-25T12:32:00.000-06:002007-05-12T21:33:23.811-06:00

I'm going to talk about this in more than one post, partly because the session was really long, and partly because it's difficult for me to write about.I felt miserable when I got back from Utah. Monday was the worst day ever. I couldn't seem to shake the fact that someone horrible had touched me, and that somehow I was contaminated and would pass that on to anyone who touched me. I was cranky

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-13145534414181996442007-03-21T08:14:00.000-06:002007-05-12T21:33:40.770-06:00

One year ago today I started blogging. I had begun therapy. I was talking for the first time about myself and there was an element of relief in that. But I realized when I went home that everything was still a secret. I wanted the world to know that I'd been hurt, that I had a life, that I was gay...but I didn't want anyone to know that those things belonged to me. Anonymous exhibitionism?Since

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-10764412050559765642007-03-19T23:35:00.000-06:002007-05-12T21:33:58.670-06:00

Okay, I think I can finally talk about this. Maybe.Monday I drove to my grandmother's house (8 hours). It was actually a very nice drive. I cried most of the way. I'm a coward--what can I say. This is the grandmother that David and I share. I love her. She made me a wonderful dinner, and fussed at me because I didn't eat much. We talked till around 10:30, when I went to bed.Tuesday I was up at 5:

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-46537798766696026812007-03-19T17:19:00.000-06:002007-05-12T21:34:12.950-06:00

If I haven't said much lately, it's because my internet access was severely limited last week. So, a few things first.1. Thanks to those of you who sent comments and emails. I probably won't respond because I'm a little freaked out and mixed up. I hope you'll forgive me. I truly do appreciate those of you who sent prayers and good thoughts/wishes. AtP's mom fasted for me. She is amazing.2. I know

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-58307675482068473722007-03-11T15:13:00.000-06:002007-05-12T21:34:31.477-06:00

Friday Tabitha and I joined four other females of various ages, and had a girls' night. We ate smoked salmon, fresh fruit, vegetables and cream cheese. I understand that's girl food. I can live with that. I made a chocolate cake which was not for wimps, and someone brought ice cream. We played with make-up, giggled, and played with a wii. So I got to go bowling, play tennis, and do some boxing.

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-52045079452100920572007-03-09T09:50:00.000-07:002007-05-12T21:35:08.510-06:00

It's all right if I'm more stressed than I ever remember being in my entire life, right?Part of me wants to hurry time forward and get this over with--the other part wants to wait forever and never do it at all.Part of me is angry and sad and frustrated. That part makes sense, I think.The weirdness: there is also a part of me that wants to see David, a part that still misses the young boy I used

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-65479600327546884932007-03-08T08:10:00.000-07:002007-05-12T21:35:24.783-06:00

Sent yesterday:Dear Cousin who makes me feel like I'm going to throw up (yeah, I wanted to say it),How about Wednesday, 11:30 a.m. at the O? I'll actually be in L visiting some friends and there's one at *** R Road in L, but I'm guessing this would be quite a drive for you--maybe longer than a lunch hour will allow? There are also a couple in Salt Lake, one at *****, and one on *****. If the

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-14624093399363416772007-03-07T21:40:00.000-07:002007-05-12T21:35:42.670-06:00

NewlywedsThey came to church this week--married two weeks. I watched as she returned his adoring glance. They sat close together, making certain that every decently possible part of their bodies could be in contact. They arose in turn, confessing undying love, secure in the fact that they were meant for each other, looking forward to the rest of their lives...and each declared the sweetness of

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-47590717512677623942007-03-07T16:53:00.000-07:002007-05-12T21:35:59.361-06:00

I told Therapist that my issues with recurring nightmares had pretty much resolved themselves. The nightmare comes infrequently now, and I've had some really good nights of sleep recently. Therapist told me that he was so excited and took lots of notes. I'm the best Guinea Pig of the bunch. Then Therapist asked me what I planned to do next. I told him I'm already doing it.I explained that I've

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-72746395274569666142007-03-07T10:21:00.000-07:002007-05-12T21:36:16.012-06:00

Emailed last night:Dear Cousin who molested me repeatedly for 80 days when I was almost 12 (okay, I didn't really say that, but I wanted to),It's been a long time since I've seen you. I'll be in Utah next week and was wondering if you have time to have lunch with me? I'm thinking Wednesday, if possible. Let me know if you'd like to do that, and if the time works for you. Hope to see you

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-8791364702321357102007-03-06T10:10:00.000-07:002007-05-12T21:36:32.768-06:00

Okay, anyone who labored through my last post got to the little tidbit at the end where I announced that I'm seeking out the person who messed me up just a bit, and I want to have lunch with him. I still want to do that. I'm still planning to do that. But it's a week away.I'm scared out of my mind. Really, freaking scared.

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-64586925099846919192007-03-04T10:20:00.000-07:002007-05-12T21:36:51.040-06:00

Okay, I got a little freaked out and sidetracked after I said I was going to write about relationships. However, I'm now recovered and ready to explore a little bit. There will be no structure or logic in the order of the posts, nor do I know how many I will write. This may be the only one. However, I want to get at least one written before I see Therapist on Wednesday.I've mentioned previously

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-8359519307223925482007-03-04T09:31:00.000-07:002007-03-04T10:16:03.627-07:00

First Adam Adam: Mom, if guys like a girl, they call her "hot". What do girls call guys that they like?Me: Hot.Adam: Really? Are you sure?(Teenybopper television program suddenly features a young woman, indicating a young man and whispering audibly to a friend, "He's so HOT!!")Adam: Wow! You really do know everything!!Second Adam(Watching me move a piece of furniture that was bugging me)Adam (to

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-85030642820474255602007-03-02T13:17:00.000-07:002007-03-02T13:22:28.959-07:00

Okay, I realize after the last post that I'll have to stop being resentful, offensive, and I'll have to behave myself. But you should come anyway. Tonight we have Richard Bushman (author of Rough Stone Rolling) visiting our university. He's giving a lecture tonight: Joseph Smith’s Place in History, and tomorrow morning he's presenting selected readings from his book at our library.Seriously, you

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-32461084971749438132007-03-02T12:49:00.000-07:002007-05-12T21:37:08.794-06:00

I'm a little sidetracked right now. I'm not wanting to continue my "relationships" posts today. It's not a good day and I'm feeling a little resentful. So in honor of that I'm posting something I have on one of my super secret blogs that a few of you have been asking about. Now that you'll be able to see the sort of thing that I post there, I'm certain that the curiosity will be satisfied and

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-12211267131373520962007-03-01T08:11:00.000-07:002007-05-12T21:37:47.062-06:00

This has the potential to be offensive. I hope it doesn't prove so. Obviously I've been thinking about relationships. It seems to be an obsession. I'm fascinated by the commonalities I've found in others which I thought were unique to me and based on the betrayal and abuse I've experienced. For instance, after extensive research (i.e. reading personal blogs, talking with others, reading and

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-41540910016779055662007-02-28T21:55:00.000-07:002007-02-28T21:56:21.187-07:00

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-15160035533953771802007-02-28T12:39:00.000-07:002007-02-28T13:08:08.934-07:00

Today I accompanied a junior high school choir which had a substitute director. Naturally the students were all immature and obnoxious. I remembered all the reasons I avoid seventh through ninth graders in a substitute teaching situation. There were a couple of personal things that drove this avoidance compulsion home with great force:1. One delightful young man placed his bottle of water, now

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-86492086507518803272007-02-27T08:54:00.000-07:002007-05-12T21:38:27.335-06:00

My apologies for yesterday's "sacreligious" post. Normally I would reply with the "IT'S MY BLOG!!" mantra, but today I just don't care. Three closed-minded, uninformed individuals have made known to me that:1. No matter what happened in my life, I have no right to put it on the level of what Christ suffered (which was never my intention, but I bow to the masses).2. I'm simply one of those

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-78160818069695548832007-02-26T09:08:00.000-07:002007-05-12T21:38:44.761-06:00

I am not an angry person. Some might say that I'm an intense person. This is not by design--I just think about things--a lot. I'm also very well-versed in typical listening idioms designed to indicate that a person is paying attention, when, in fact, he or she is thinking about what wonderful comment to make next, where to vacation during the summer, or what particular snack sounds good right now

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-26681316615440296822007-02-25T19:03:00.000-07:002007-02-25T19:08:29.140-07:00

The theme for Girl's Camp this year is "Be all that you can be," and activities are loosely based on basic training and general Army stuff. Today Tabitha and I received invitations for an upcoming activity. The creative invites were made from imitation dogtags and attached to plastic army guys. Adam said, "Whose are those?" I told him they were for Tabitha and I and what they were for. His

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-63408300141745330502007-02-25T15:54:00.000-07:002007-02-25T15:55:18.865-07:00

Hmmm...a bad day. I'm entitled to one occasionally, I think.

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-48674649697186079302007-02-24T13:22:00.000-07:002007-02-24T13:23:12.648-07:00

You Are a Christmas Sweater!Over the top, colorful, and totally flashy.You're not afraid to be a little tacky.What Crappy Christmas Gift Are You?You should all take this quiz. Everyone knows things like this are important and completely accurate.

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-42994045143388583562007-02-23T08:01:00.000-07:002007-02-23T11:51:11.231-07:00

I've been thinking again. AtP says I'm always doing that, and he's right. However, there are times when the items of thought are a little overwhelming. I've mentioned that I found an old friend after many years. He and I first met when we were nine, and were friends until I got married, which is when I lost track of him. It's been wonderful to talk with him again, but it also raises some memories

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-89610031768661271712007-02-19T08:17:00.000-07:002007-02-19T08:44:09.412-07:00

Every once in a while there are really good days.I love Sundays. Darrin gets up, and I get to sleep in (for a change). I usually don't, because I want to spend time with him, but this morning I was too tired to wake. I slept until 10:00 a.m., because I'd been up until 3:30 a.m. trying to decide if I wanted to sleep or not. I got up and ran, then decided to go back to bed and read. I haven't done

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-34393661201429487722007-02-17T21:08:00.000-07:002007-05-12T21:39:05.530-06:00

Every once in awhile I just need to say this:I'm tired.I don't want to be an abuse survivor.I don't want to have an eating disorder.I don't want to be a compulsive runner.I want to go to bed like millions of other people in the world and sleep.I want to sit down to dinner with my family and eat with them.I want to stop feeling afraid.I'm a little bit angry.I'm getting very frustrated.I'm really

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-48688674886788284922007-02-15T13:02:00.000-07:002007-02-18T17:49:33.121-07:00

There is a possibility that I've been wrong. I don't like it but I'm entertaining the thought. I have in my head a friendship blueprint. I'm not sure exactly when it became a certainty to me, but I have aways believed all friendships follow the plan in my head. The basic outline says that we meet, enjoy each other, get busy, leave and forget each other. It's fairly simple and uncomplicated--until

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-17369646369858800082007-02-11T21:30:00.000-07:002007-05-12T21:39:21.575-06:00

AtP: i can leave class... please tell me it's important enough...Sam: Yeah...I don't think so...you need to stay and find out about cones...deafness...weird speaking...rods...brain epicenters...hemispheres...AtP: last week he said hemispheres were different lobesSam: Yes, not to be confused with earlobes because if you pierce the brain lobes...well...it's bad...AtP: LOLSam: I just got this in my

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-62226303355711238292007-02-11T09:20:00.000-07:002007-05-12T21:39:41.897-06:00

Okay, this shouldn't make me so upset, but it does. About a year ago, as part of my therapy, I was told that I needed to stop isolating myself, take down the "walls" I've built to protect me, make more close friends, be more spontaneous, love more deeply, blah, blah, blah, blah...I just have to say that I did everything I was told that would make me have "a more joyful life." There was certainly

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-845276304013601942007-02-10T22:40:00.000-07:002007-02-10T16:17:06.174-07:00

Tabitha and I went to the store today. I've been staying up for the past few nights because I'm tired of trying to control my dreams and sleep is difficult. I've been really grateful for friends who have been willing to stay up with me chatting or talking on the phone. Tabitha has been awakened a couple of times, hearing me talking or laughing. She wanted to know why I was up so late.I explained

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-72742443668713668752007-02-09T21:31:00.000-07:002007-05-12T21:40:00.004-06:00

Darrin's business trip that was supposed to happen next week has been postponed, which means he will be home on our anniversary!!Now, if I can just convince him that he doesn't need to be a bishop that night... I'm thinking I may have to use some heterosexual guile (of which I have none)...

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-33557039589461088262007-02-07T18:51:00.000-07:002007-05-12T21:40:51.560-06:00

Have I mentioned in previous posts that I'm madly in love with Therapist? If not, it was a tremendous oversight on my part. I adore him.I saw him last during the second week of November, right about the time my nightmares were beginning to jaunt nightly through my head. I brought to this session a very bizarre account of how I had managed to control the dreams. Since part of that involved me

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-69960837427055582852007-02-07T10:21:00.000-07:002007-02-07T10:24:07.544-07:00

"We cannot change anything until we accept it. Condemnation does not liberate, it oppresses."

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23672898.post-12656055427758672662007-02-07T00:21:00.000-07:002007-04-24T18:24:14.073-06:00

One reason I adore watching the sun rise is that my mind seems clear and I can truly think. This morning I watched the clouds turn from pink to orange, then fade to yellow. I was supposed to be meditating on the lesson I would present to my class in a moment. Instead I was realizing that I've been completely absorbed by myself lately--never a positive state of being for me.Sometimes things happen

Samanthanoreply@blogger.com2