Have spent the morning reading old journals. It's hard not to think one might be a bit nutty when reading one's old journals. Although interesting to read how one has changed.

It's kinda fun to refer to oneself as one.

Every time I decide I want to read a book I feel compelled to look up the negative reviews on Amazon. It's become a bit of a compulsion. I have been talked out of reading many books.

Read posts below:

I have reached the last chapter titled "The Final Weeks". As I read I become more anxious. I don't want Pres. Lincoln to die! Lincoln's second vice-president - Andrew Johnson - was a nuts and should never never have been president. He would not have been nominated had people known that Lincoln was going to die. I watched a documentary recently about Andrew Johnson and the Reconstruction of the South. Johnson did a horrible job and as such the South languished. The economy was never rebuilt and Federal soldiers had to enforce martial law for several years. I believe that had Lincoln survived the South would have been generously rebuilt and the plight of the newly freed slaves would have been better addressed. I think that because Lincoln died prematurely a precedent was sent that allowed the South to remain sorry for itself. The continued marginalization and abuse of black people continued with the institution of Jim Crow laws. It wasn't until the Civil Rights movement that the South was again questioned about it's behavior.

Just had an odd thought...the song "Father Abraham had many sons" (a sunday school classic)...could it be about Abraham Lincoln rather than Abraham of biblical origins? During the Civil War the troops (on both sides) called the Pres - Father Abraham.

Must read previous post to understand this one:

I have now reached the Civil War and I am crying. I am on the edge of my seat as Goodwin describes those first few days when Washington was cut off from the rest of the North. I feel the anxiety of family and friends as they part ways to defend their home state and face off against one another. For me - I am reminded that war should never be taken lightly. As Goodwin explains - little did anyone know that the next four years would be marked by war and that 600,000 (the equivalent of 5 million today) would die before its end.

I am currently reading Doris Kearns Goodwin's - Team of Rivals - about the political genius of Lincoln. Goodwin makes Lincoln and his contemporaries come to life. With great detail she describes life, relationships, politics, social issues and other important factors that played a role in the eventual Civil War. Goodwin is so great with description that on at least three occasions I forgot that Lincoln gets assassinated. Seriously! I was reading a section of the book where Lincoln told his law partner that he would be back after his term(s) as president was over. It was at the moment that I realized that Lincoln never did return and I almost started to cry.

I find myself at war. At times I am overwhelmed with emotion and I can feel faith growing in my heart. Then I remember that faith is not able to overcome the intectually honest conclusions I've made within myself. Eventually my thoughts beat out my feelings.

attachment disordered?

Several thoughts are running through my head on this lovely Wednesday evening. I am waiting for the Lost to start. I am writing from my new blue sitting room. We emptied the spare bedroom and painted it a bright blue. We then added an even brighter blue couch. Hence the name: the Blue Room.

I've been thinking about touch. I don't really like to be touched. In general I try to avoid it. My mom tells me that I didn't really liked to be touched as a baby, either. The only person I touch on a regular basis is my husband. Recently I realized that those in my life know that I don't like to be touched, so they don't touch me. This realization made me sad. I thought that those close to me didn't really like to be touched either, but actually they are just respecting what they think are my boundaries. I should be glad that people don't intrude in my space, but really it just makes me feel like a freak.

Joel and I have been talking about having children. This conversation has increased exponentially and I suspect we will soon start trying. However, I am afraid. What if I don't really liked being touched by my children? Will I totally fuck them up in the head? Then I ask myself why I am asking myself questions about hypothetical children.

All of these contemplations have led me to believe that I might be attachment disordered. I know I'm not. I had great parents, who loved me lots; however, the thought creeps in.

I learned last week that my ex-husband killed a guy. Seriously, Jeremy and another officer tazed a guy to death while on duty. He's a police officer in Moberly, Mo. I got a call from a PI in Missouri who works for the lawyer representing the family of the deceased in a civil suit. The PI said that Jeremy was almost fired from a different police department and has had multiple investigations for inappropriate conduct. Jeremy's been cleared of any criminal wrong doing, but I suspect that the police department will probably be paying out large sums to the family.

Oh, and who the fuck moves to the mid-West?!?

After I heard this news I moved through several stages. First shock, then I googled the shit out of it, then I felt like I was reliving my divorce. Later I was telling some coworkers about it and I started to laugh. I am not at all trying to be disrespectful to the family of the man who was killed, but I couldn't help finding it so fucked up that I laughed. Seriously, I was married to a possible murderer! I was either going to cry or laugh. I chose the later.

I was recently pretty jealous when I saw some pics a friend posted on Facebook. She had a dinner party. I didn't even really know she had other friends outside of our social group. It was bizarre. Mostly, I felt like an idiot for feeling jealous. I spent the entire day telling myself to shut up. When I shared my feelings with a mutual friend of ours, she started to laugh. She felt that same way when she saw the pics.

All of these thoughts above lead me to believe that I might be crazy. Who feels these things. Sometimes I don't really like being a human. I don't like having to learn or grow. I just want to stay the same. I no longer want to have to process through things.

Oh well.

update

It's been a few weeks since Kathy's surgery and she's doing much better. She is definitely eating more. She hasn't been weighed, but she seems to weigh more when we pick her up. Also, Kathy has more energy. My hope is that she is well on her way to recovery. Thanks for all the good thoughts on my last post!