It's been almost two weeks since I've written. That's not like me.

There's plenty to write about. Some of it, I'm just not sure if I should. But alas, my need to vent supersedes caution. And so, on with it.

Many of my readers are friends on facebook, and have witnessed what I've termed "hell week"....
Getting the bad news about Sel having a nerve/cervical issue, getting his pain meds, and accepting that we just keep him comfortable now, as it will most likely get progressively worse... The pluming fiasco (clogged pipes, a $300 service call, a huge mess in the basement, a complaint to the company)... The well running dry fiasco, and living without water for a day and night... locking my keys in the car... losing my notes in my iphone (notes which included appointments, reminders, important dates, to-do lists, and a spreadsheet-like list of every single christmas gift (for 8 different people), and whether or not it had been shipped/received/wrapped... Dawson "tricking" me into believing that he didn't believe in Santa anymore, and his absolute devastation when I confirmed it...
The first week of December... Hell Week.

Add that to the already existing cesspool which is my life....

My husband... We all know the story of his leaving, for the second time this year. When I filed the divorce papers last month, I was so sure of myself, so firm in my resolve... Yet, we are still seeing one another. Love, co-dependency, the inability to let go... I don't know what it is that keeps us tied to each other. I used to think it was because we were meant to be. I guess maybe I still do. But then again, I also remember that this is not my idea of a marriage. We used to talk of reconciling, of living together again. But now we continue living apart. It's hard for either one of us to imagine how we could be a family again, after all that has happened. I don't know if we have a future. I used to think that it was still possible. Now, I don't know what to think. Last night, he mentioned that he'd like us to stay married, to postpone the divorce. I just said- "Do you want some of this coleslaw? It's really good"...

My daughter... Second to losing my Dad, my daughter has quite possibly been the heartbreak of the year.
Two weeks ago I had a serious talk with her about her life choices, about her not helping out around here, about her disrespectful attitude and sense of entitlement. Then she brings her douchebag boyfriend to my house while I'm away, they get into a fight, he breaks my bathroom door in. She isn't here when I get home and discover it. I text her, and she simply says- I don't know. It broke. I replaced it... I'm angry as hell, so she stays at her father's house. I come down on her pretty hard... I've told her she can't have free rein with the car anymore. She uses it for school, and that's it. It's the only tool I have to use, since she's 18.
I'm super angry, but also worried about her. This guy is bad news. Normal people don't break a door down to get to someone. She's ambivalent. She acts as though I am the enemy.
I never did get an apology.
And that weekend, two weeks ago, was about the end of it... She used to live here full time... She's stayed here one night in the last two weeks. She stays at her father's now. Comes by once in a while to pick up clothes, or text books, or whatever she may need. I rarely hear from her. Dawson misses her.
We used to be best friends...

No job, no income. That story is old now, too. I keep trying. I keep looking. I keep interviewing.
The bar is hopefully opening back up soon. That will help. I'm holding onto that. And hopefully, sometime soon, I will land one of these jobs I interview for.
I'll need to start saving soon, somehow. I will probably have to move in the spring, as I mentioned in my last blog. Even when I start working again, I doubt I can afford this house. And my sister can't afford to take care of me, nor would I expect her to.
I hate the idea of more disruption in Dawson's life. And in mine. Everything is so unstable. Life has pulled the rug out from under us so many times this year...

Speaking of Dawson... He is doing okay. Well, he was, until the whole Santa devastation yesterday. He'll get over that in time. But on the whole, he's doing okay...
He knows we may have to move in the near future. We talk about it. I don't want him to have any more surprises in life. He asks- Where we will go? Will we live in an apartment? Will we move to Bangor?? We can't move to Bangor, there's too many drugs! (lol)... Will we live in a trailer? I assure him we will find a nice place, whether it's an apartment, a trailer, a house, whatever... We will make it our home. We will have each other.
He misses Troy. He knows him and I are still seeing each other. He wants to see him, he's been asking for a while now. I guess I will let him. Maybe we will have a dinner date. I don't know what more harm it can possibly do. But then again, what the hell do I know? I can't seem to figure out what the hell to do about anything nowadays.
And he misses Logan. Very much. Him and I have been enjoying our time together, but he consistently talks about how lonely it is here now, just the two of us...

And the holidays without Dad... Life without Dad, in general. I miss him so much, every goddamn day. And I'm still so angry. Angry that he chose to do this to himself, and to us. Angry that he didn't have the strength to get that monkey off his back, and that it eventually killed him. I don't know how to let go of that. But goddamnit, I miss him. So much.

And there you have it, a "catch-up", so to speak. The last couple weeks in a nutshell. Nothing new, really. Same old, same old.

I'm still waiting for my luck to turn around. For life to be a little kinder.