tHe haPPy grOUch

tHe haPPy grOUch

Tuesday, December 31, 2013

Every year's a souvenir, that slowly fades away...

In less than twelve hours, this horrible year will be gone.
I wish it could take it's memory with it.

I've said in years past, "this has been the worst year yet"... Evidently I didn't know about 2013.

The year I lost my beloved father.
The year I lost the one man whom I thought was my life partner. The year I spent fighting for a love that wasn't truly a love, after all.
The year that my son came to know the same disappointment in love that I did. His heart is broken as well; he loved his step-father and step-sister.
The year that I lost my home. Not only the one I'm in now, that I will have to move out of (thanks to above mentioned relationship disaster), but also the one I owned, that has finally been foreclosed upon. I regret that I allowed myself to be swayed into putting it on the market and moving here, because "we needed something bigger".
The year of being left destitute, with no income, living in poverty. Searching relentlessly for employment.
The year I helplessly watched my daughter go through the first real heartbreak of her life. And how, subsequently, my relationship with her fell apart as well.

A year of lost hope, devastation, despair, and heartache.
I'm so glad to see it go.

I can only hope that this year will bring new and wonderful things to my life, to my children's lives.
Lord knows we deserve it.

Saturday, December 28, 2013

Dear fellow members of the broken hearts club;

Fear not... It soon becomes quite easy to tell that declarations of love and crocodile tears translates to- "I just want to continue sleeping with you".

Do yourselves a favor and dodge the bullet! ... I know I did!

Have a nice day!

Wednesday, December 25, 2013

Netflix couldn't hold my attention. The internet doesn't posses it's normal allure. Can't focus on a book. Laundry and dishes were a temporary distraction. Maybe I should go for a drive.
I don't know what to do with myself.

Several offers exist for company, invites to this house or that house, family, friends...
I don't know if I could be around people right now, even as lonesome as I may feel.

Maybe I'll head down to the bar. Perhaps that'll be distraction enough. An appropriate environment and enough people to not feel too personal..
But I don't know.
Maybe I'm more suited for my own company today.
I had such a wonderful Christmas eve with the family, and a wonderful Christmas morning with the kids. I really couldn't have asked for more.

And now Dawson has gone to his Dad's, and Logan has gone to hers...

Even though I still realize all of those blessings listed in yesterdays blog, today is still difficult.
I am trying my best not to be sad. Although, my eyes have already leaked on a few occasions. And I'm sure it will continue off and on throughout the day.

I'll cook up some Ramen noodles, hook up my google chromecast, and spend the day with Netflix, the couch, and fuzzy pjs.

I won't be sad, I won't be sad, I won't be sad....
Perhaps if I say it enough, it will be true.

"Far away, long ago
Glowing dim as an ember
Things my heart used to know
Things it yearns to remember
And a song someone sings
Once upon a December"...

Tuesday, December 24, 2013

It's finally Christmas time!

My sister, her husband, my niece and nephew, Mom and Nana will be here today. I'm so excited to have the family here together for the day!

Sharla and I were talking about how strange it will also be, though.. without Dad. Like she mentioned, shopping was weird... We've both seen so many funny gift ideas and thought- oh, this would be great for dad... (he loved everything bizarre and unusual).. Yesterday I was chopping veggies and getting snacks ready, and I remembered how Dad would sit at the bar (pretty much the entirety of any family gathering) picking at the veggies and dip, chips, and crackers and pepperoni... He won't be here to be the designated wrapping paper garbage bag holder.. or to take all the wires off the toys and get them out of their boxes... or to hug and kiss, and say I love you...
Mom forewarned me that she had a couple personal gifts for the two boys that might get us all teared up... She's giving Colby a model corvette that Dad had. Colby plays with it every time he's at Mom's. And she's giving Dawson Dad's leather cap. These are priceless gifts. And I am excited to see Dawson put on Dad's hat.. I'm not so excited about crying like a baby, but hey, that's alright. Hopefully he doesn't get too upset, he is a bit more tender than most. We'll get through it.. We'll all get through the day.
I love you Dad. Miss you. Merry Christmas.

And then there will be Christmas day..
The kids will be here until noon, and then they're off to their Dad's. I'm accustomed to that. But it's a little different this year. I'll be alone for the first Christmas in a few years.
Oddly, I'm not that concerned about it at the moment. I'm too excited about the next 24 hours. I know it will be very difficult when the time comes, but I will handle it. I'm a big girl.
I'm just happy that the family will be here tonight, and that my kids will wake up together in the morning. With everything going on between Logan and I, and her staying with her dad, this would have been the first year that the kids weren't here together at the same time over Christmas. And I had been so sad about that, for a while now.. And then Logan told me that she had decided to stay here overnight on Christmas eve. That is one of my Christmas blessings this year, and the best gift I could have asked for.

I say "one of my Christmas blessings", because I do recognize that I have many, no matter how hard life seems to be for us right now...
I am blessed that my children are healthy, and well cared for, and loved.
I am blessed that, even though my father is gone, I am still surrounded by a loving family, both close and extended. My children, sister, mother, Nana, niece and nephew, aunts and uncles, and countless cousins.
I am blessed that, even though they may be very few, I have some of the best friends a person could ask for.
I am blessed that I still have my health, no matter how old and decrepit I may feel at times.. lol... That I am still here to kiss my children.
I am blessed that, even though I have to move in the near future, I still have a roof over my head for now, and a place to call home, thanks to my sister.
I am blessed that I'm finally back to work, and that I also found a second job.

But with all those blessings, I am still sad. On a daily basis. Love lost is always a heartbreaking experience. But when that love comes with conditions and inequality, it is not true love, actually, at all. And so, I am trying to recognize that as a blessing as well. And I will do my best to let it continue to be a blessing, and not hinder our Christmas, or our lives, any more than it already has.

Merry Christmas everyone, and count your blessings!

Thursday, December 12, 2013

My latest facebook status updates reads:
"Seriously in need of an attitude adjustment... I don't know if it's the holidays (Mom always said I have a hard time with the holidays... don't know how she knows this), or hormones, or being poor and jobless, or being a pre-divorcee (for the third time), or the earth's position to Jupiter, or WHAT.
But damn, aren't I frickin miserable."

Truth is, it's all of those things, and more.

Being jobless is driving me crazy. Now, let's face it- even before the bar shut down temporarily, I didn't work that often. But for some reason, I wasn't going crazy then. I didn't mind the days spent alone. Well, they weren't really alone, I guess. Troy was here.
Now him and Logan are both gone; it's just Dawson and I. And if he's at school, or gone to his Dad's, I'm going crazy.
Oh yes, and the being poor part of it sucks too, just in case that wasn't still obvious.
I can't recall the number of interviews I've had in the last two months, dozens probably. It's ridiculous that I don't have a job yet.

I saw my therapist this week, after a couple weeks of missing her.
I mentioned that Troy had asked about postponing the divorce. I talked about my hesitancy with that.
She raised a good question- "What does staying married look like?"
I don't know.
It looks like this, I guess. Me living here (or wherever), him living there. Spending time together when we don't have our children, and visiting once and a while when we do.
This is what staying married looks like. I'm still trying to decide if that's acceptable to me.
Perhaps if we had always lived this way, this unconventional marriage wouldn't be so bad. But that's not the case. There is so much history. And this isn't what I chose.
I don't know.

I miss my dad.

Then there's my daughter, who used to be my best friend. Now I hardly see her. Rarely talk to her. In fact, I think she sees me as the enemy. Not quite sure how or when that happened.
"Had a fight with my daughter,
She flew off in rage.
Third time this week,
Don't tell me it's the age.
Don't know how I've lost her,
Only know that it's a shame"...
~Bonnie Raitt, All at Once

I don't want to have to move, again. Dawson asked again today why we have to move. How could he possibly understand such a complicated situation...  I can't afford to pay Sharla what she needs in order to keep this house, she can't afford (and shouldn't have to) take care of us. I don't know where we will go.
I don't want us to be uprooted again.

Then again, I didn't want any of this, this year. And yet, here it is.

Happy holidays.

Friday, December 6, 2013

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.

Saturday, November 23, 2013

What a weird life it is.

So, you know... I've been thinking... And I'm pretty tired of the shitty hands life has been dealing for the past year or so.

This time last year, almost to the date, Dad started to get really sick. We were at Sharla's in Portland for Thanksgiving. He took a nap in the truck on the way down. When he woke up and got out of the truck, he was disoriented, he didn't know where he was. He called Mom (who had already gone into the house) to come get him. These were the first tell tale signs of alcoholic encephalopathy.
Not long thereafter, Dad did his first stint in EMMC. Liver and kidneys starting to fail, the encephalopathy got worse... Scared him sober. For a time, anyway. He was sober for Christmas, for the first time. And it was wonderful. But it didn't last.
Six months later, Dad was gone.

In the meantime, my marriage (which was still in it's infancy) was "on the rocks". My husband left in March. A month later, we began reconciliation. He came home, but things were still volatile.
Then Dad got sick.

For months, I watched him drink himself to death. I watched him slowly die.
And then when he passed, I couldn't get out of my own way. For two months.
I didn't know "how to grieve".
I wasn't the model wife, or the model parent. I couldn't even function, let alone fulfill those roles.

And by the time I "came out of it", my marriage had disintegrated. Without me even really knowing.
By the end of August, my husband had left, again.
Fast forward to the present... I've filed for divorce, yet I am still "seeing" my future ex-husband. At one point we talked of another reconciliation, and potentially moving back in with one another in the near future. But after some honest discussions over the last couple months, that doesn't seem as realistic as it once did.
And so, why do we/I continue? I don't know. Love, I guess. The inability to let go.

When my husband left, I had no job, no way of supporting us. And I still don't. Not for lack of trying, either. I'm still out there, aggressively seeking employment. It's been two months now, and still no job. Evidently my friends are right when they say- "it's an employer's market".
And so I wait for the bar to re-open so I can at least earn a little bit of money. I scrape together anything of worth in the house, and sell it. I don't pay my sister rent, which I fear will eventually be the bane of our relationship... She will probably have to sell this house in the spring. Even once I start working, I will not be able to realistically afford what we were once paying her for rent. And so, we will be displaced in a few short months. Sigh.
I try to keep the lights on, the cable, the phone, the house heated.... And Christmas is coming...
I keep applying for jobs. I keep interviewing...

And then, I watch as my relationship with my daughter also disintegrates. She's going to be leaving soon, to move in with her father, evidently. Her and I butt heads, I'm miserable to be around, this isn't "a healthy environment for her to live in"...
I asked her to start paying her own car insurance. And her father's side of the family is looking into buying her a new car (since hers needs more money than it's worth in repairs)... I suspect that is more likely the truth of the matter.
It's funny.. the teenage sense of entitlement, the attitude, the bitterness... Mom keeps telling me it's normal, that it's the age... But I can't imagine it. She breaks my heart.

And my son... Sigh... He is in the throes of adolescence. "Moody" is an understatement. He is still having a hard time understanding the "whys" of his step-family leaving. (Sheesh, so am I)... He is angry and sad. He is struggling academically, emotionally..
He is playing basketball this year, and he is frustrated. He has little knowledge of the game, but shows great potential...
This weekend, his father decided to allow him to quit the travel basketball team. I have been saying ABSOLUTELY NOT since the season started. I was hoping we could stay on the same page, but alas, the challenges of co-parenting. Sigh. What his father doesn't seem to understand is that allowing Dawson to "quit" is detrimental to him, on so many different levels...  If Dawson has any interest in playing basketball in the future, this year of learning would have been CRUCIAL for him. Not to mention, quitting is not what I would choose to teach him, on a very basic level. But hell, what do I know. Sigh.

And of course, then Mom gets sick. She's been in the hospital since Monday. A CT scan showed that one of the diverticula (little pockets that form in the intestines) has a tear in it, causing massive pain, and possible infection. The surgeons think it will re-seal itself, and kept her this week to keep an eye on her, before deciding to jump right to surgery. We thought she was going home Wednesday. Then we thought she was going home Friday. I did just get word that she is coming home today. Sharla is up from Portland, so hopefully her and Logan will take on my role for the rest of the weekend, as I will be absent...

Earlier in the week (before Mom got sick), I accepted an offer from my future ex-husband for a weekend of indulgence. Ironic, I know. But I am taking it. And I will try to do so without too much analyzing..  I will accept it as simply a nice time spent between two people who enjoy one another.. without strings of the past (or future) attached.
And I will try to enjoy it without guilt.
My therapist constantly tells me I need to try harder to "live in the moment".

If the "moments" could be a little less sucky, it sure would be a whole lot easier.

Tuesday, November 12, 2013

That staggering moment when you finally go down to the oil tank, hoping to see a little bit left, and find that little bobber sitting at just about the empty mark.
And your heart sinks.

Isn't it funny how you can be so sure of your position, so firm in your resolve... and then one text at 2am can send you spiraling back onto the emotional roller coaster that you worked so hard to jump off of.
What's even more sad, is that I have more reasons to stay off it than I do to get back on. But then there's that one little thing that keeps you on the ride... feelings.
I've always been such an intellectually charged individual.. analytical, scientific, calculative... I'm not sure when I began to succumb to acting on emotion rather than brain power.
But I know that I have to turn it around somehow. Put it back in proper order. Brain first, heart... never.

The job search continues. I've been averaging one, sometimes two interviews a week. And still nothing. I had a preliminary interview last week, and got a call back for a second one this week. I sent an email this morning, and will be applying in person for another job today. I probably apply for (at least) about a half dozen jobs per week. There just aren't that many out there that I "qualify" for, otherwise, the list would be longer. I keep hearing from various people- "It's an employer's market out there"... I guess they are right.

I've run out of things (with any worth) to sell. The grill, my Tiffany bracelet... the craft fairs aren't very profitable. No more money coming in. The bar is supposed to open late next week. I pray that it does...
And still the lights haven't been shut off... yet. I keep waiting for the moment when I realize I've run out of oil. That's pretty damn scary. I have absolutely no idea what we will do then. Take hot showers at Mom's next door, and heat the house with the propane fireplaces... Until I run out of propane...
And then there's Christmas... There really will be no Santa this year...

Dawson continues to ask how we will make it... I continue to lie to him, and tell him everything will be fine.

Last week I wrote- "At rock bottom, there is clarity"...
I probably should have added- destitution, depression, poverty, failure, devastation.

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

At rock bottom, there is clarity....

As cliche as it is.... Today is the first day of the rest of my life.

After my husband leaving us (for, I think, the fourth time), after accepting him back into our lives, waiting for him to decide if he ever truly wants us to be together, after struggling for months with half-measures, broken/empty promises, one foot in-one foot out... after finally hearing him say that he can't envision us living together, that our lives and lifestyles are too different, (but that he loves me so much and can't imagine his life without me)... I file for divorce today.
Today is the first day of the rest of my life.

I served him yesterday. That took more guts than I've had to muster in a long time.
And, not surprisingly, he had nothing to say. Other than to tell me that I have to switch the electric bill into my name. (After promising when he left that he'd keep it in his name, keep it on, continue paying it as a "contribution" to all the expenses he left us with)...
But, I digress...
It's funny how the tiniest of things can reassure you that you are doing the right thing.

I've lived the last week in a very strange frame of mind. A very different place than I have been, for months, maybe even years.
Hitting rock bottom has done that for me, I think.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not in some "higher place". I'm destitute, still. Poor, literally. Depressed. Hopeless.
No income other than a minimal amount of child support. No money for rent, oil, electricity, phone, cable, gas... Trying my damnedest to get a job...
DHHS was a bust yesterday. The kids and I don't qualify for anything like TANF or Aspire, or any of their other cash assistance programs. My measly $365 a month in child support puts us over the limit for "deprivation". Her exact words. I laughed at that. Literally, out loud, in her face. And then I cried.
But anyway...
Rock bottom gives you clarity. At least it does that.

And in that clarity, I discovered something.
I'm poor. I have no job, no career, no college degree, no 401k, no money...
But you know what I still do have? ... Worth.
I have worth.
I deserve someone in my life who will love as much as I do. Who loves as unconditionally as I do. Who is willing to go to the ends of the earth for another, as I do. Who will put me first, as I put them first. Who will accept me for all my faults and quirks and idiosyncrasies, and love and cherish me still, regardless of them all.
I deserve that.
And as long as I stayed stuck where I was, I would have never truly received it. I would have settled for a half measure. And I want more than that. I deserve it.
Somewhere, someday, it will exist for me. I know that it will.

Wow, my dogs really stink.
Someday, someone will love me regardless of that too.            

Saturday, November 2, 2013

I woke up this morning and realized- this is the week I run out of money.
I don't know why it hit me this morning, but it did. First thing after opening my eyes... Oh right, my car insurance is automatically deducted from my account on Monday... There's just enough in there for that. And then there will be nothing left but a couple of dollars...
And then I cried. And cried, and cried, and cried.

I will go to DHS on Monday, and finally ask for help. Something no person wants to do. The kids and I already qualify for Mainecare and food assistance. I know there are other programs for us as well. At least I hope there are. And I know they exist for situations like mine.  But that doesn't make this pill any easier to swallow.

I've sent out so many resumes. I've had interviews. I still can't understand why finding employment is so difficult. Granted, I don't have a college degree, but I have a a lot of educational credits. I have a solid work history, and a pretty good skill set- Computer, sales, office, banking. I've got a damn good looking resume, savvy cover letters, and I'm an expert on interviewing. There is no reason why I have't gotten one of these jobs yet. It just doesn't make sense to me.

And unfortunately, added to all of that... I feel that my marriage is farther from reconciliation, rather than closer. After a month and a half of therapy, talking, figuring out, picking apart, and re-connecting, we are no closer to the "ultimate goal".
I don't know exactly what happened this past week, but something did. Something changed.
But then again, I guess the situation hasn't really changed at all. Maybe my perspective has.

As if being poor isn't bad enough, there's being poor and alone.
And hopeless.

This is what rock bottom looks like.

Thursday, October 31, 2013

Warning: This blog is a giant cesspool of self pity. If you don't want to wallow in it with me, please hit your browser's back button.
Then again, it's also blog-brainstorming, perhaps. 
Or maybe it's just venting. Yeah, maybe it's that.
Oh hell, let's face it. It's just wallowing.
Hey, at least I'm honest.

Anyway... to begin...
What was it I said in my last blog? That I was feeling a bit... "knocked down"?
Well, what I really meant by that was- I'm already down, and can't get up, because there's a ten ton cement block on top of me, being danced upon by a dozen overweight elephants.
That might be more along the lines of what I actually meant.

But.... where was I...
Oh yes, that's right. No job, no income, not going back to work at the bar until it reopens three weeks from now...
Oh, and my son needs braces. Has needed braces. His dad is going to have to come up with the first installment. And maybe the second. And who knows how much after that. I can't afford to contribute.
As if being broke and unemployed isn't enough of a self-esteem killer, not being able to pay for something your child truly needs is so, so, so, soooooo much worse.
And how about those lights? Well, they're still on. For now.

Hmmm, what else...
Oh yes, the rent, and the potential family conflict I mentioned...
What makes this even more precarious? ... discovering that said family member (who would normally do anything in their power to help you), is not necessarily in a financial position to just "let it ride" for a while.
That makes this whole thing a bit stickier. And by a bit, I mean a ton. Wait, ten tons.


Well-meaning people have made several suggestions...
-Find another place that is cheaper...
I have two big dogs, cats, no job/no provable income, and horrible credit (not to mention  money for first month's, lasts month's and security deposit). If I were a landlord, I wouldn't even rent to me.
-Take out a personal loan to keep afloat for now...
Please refer to above statement regarding horrible credit.
-Borrow money from friends or family...
Oh, come now. Everyone I know has a hard enough time paying for their own crap.
-Perhaps your husband can help you...
Well, he helps as much as he can, when he can afford to. 
-Perhaps your husband will come back home....
Well, that's not going to happen. Not here, anyway. It's complicated. That happens to be one of our "puzzle pieces" I find hard to put together that I mentioned in my last blog.
-Move in with friends or family...
Really? Me, Dawson, Logan, two big dogs, and four cats? Firstly, I have very few local family members, and even fewer friends. And let's face it, they'd need a mansion to make room for all of us. (Mother keeps saying- you could move in with me... That's just ludicrous.)
-Get a roomate...
I've toyed with this idea. Unfortunately, the floor plan here (even as large as this house is) doesn't lend itself to someone renting a room here. The only empty room is a small one, on the other end of the second floor, adjacent to Dawson's room. Unless I gave up my master, moved into that small room, and rented the master. But then again, I just can't stand the thought of a stranger living in my house with me and the kids....


I can't afford my kid's braces, or to pay my sister rent for this beautiful house, or to pay for my daughter's chiropractic visit for the pain associated with the fracture in her back, can't afford to travel to Bucksport every day and help renovate the bar with the rest of my coworkers, can't seem to get a job no mater how "well I interview", no money for Christmas. Dear god... Christmas... Oh, and then there's the failed relationship. And my willingness to go to great lengths to keep it intact despite the obstacles, judgement, and doubt. Hell, maybe I'm just afraid to be alone. And then there's the history of failed relationships in general. I am the poster child for them.
40 years old... No job, no education, no loving healthy relationship and nuclear family, no house, no 401k... 
No goals met or gains made. 

And then there are my children.
If there is any more substantial change in Dawson's life, I fear it will ruin him. He is so tender...
So many times already in life, I feel I have failed him. And so many other people have failed him as well... Ex-husbands, ex-wives, ex-boyfriends/girlfriends.. And me. He's been through so much already.
And Logan.. That has been the story of her life as well. There's a reason she has such a hard time warming up to people. She's learned it... Through the life we've had. Through my failed relationships. Through moving around and around. I taught her that. 
I love my children more than life itself. 
But I also know that that in itself doesn't make me a good parent. 


And through all of it, all of this, all of everything, through all the years... 
All I really have to turn to, is this blog. 
My best friend, my companion, my partner.

Perhaps I just answered the age-old question- Why do you blog, Crista?

And there you have it, my own personal pool of self-pity.
If you've read it till the end, then thanks for swimming with me.
Carry on.

Tuesday, October 29, 2013

I know, I haven't written in a while.
There hasn't been much to report lately. Well, I guess that's not necessarily true. There's always something to write about. There's just not always the time or opportunity. Or more accurately, the gumption.

I've been getting that knocked-down feeling a lot lately.
Thank you, life.

The job search continues to be fruitless. I've sent out dozens and dozens of resumes, had a couple handfuls of interviews, and received just as many "thank you, but..." letters.

And my bitterness about it all grows daily. I hate that I am in this position. I hate that I'm going back to working two jobs. Taking a second job that I'll probably be forced to take, because I can't get anything better. Probably won't pay very well. Probably will keep odd hours. Probably lose time at home with Dawson (and Logan, when she's around, that is). Probably be exhausted again. All this, and probably still broke.
And the thing is, it's mainly my own damn fault. I shouldn't have become comfortable relying on someone else.
But, I digress.

The bar isn't scheduled to reopen for almost another three weeks. Initially, the thought was to reopen next week. But there is so much to still be done, that it has been postponed.
So much wonderful progress being made there... The place is already unrecognizable.
I was holding onto that, though... It was really all I had, that one ounce left... telling myself- just a few more days, Crista, and you'll  be back to work at the bar... Then there will at least be a little money coming back in... Then maybe you can pay the cable, the phone, the car insurance, keep the lights on...
...The rent.
Which is another ugly monster in itself.
Some would say I am fortunate to be renting from family, who won't evict me for not being able to keep up. The other side to that coin, however, is that it has the potential to cause great conflict.

My husband and I continue to try and "work things out", with the "ultimate goal" in mind... becoming a family unit again. But there are so many variables to that. So many pieces to that puzzle. It is sometimes difficult to figure out how they will come together.

Logan is doing really well in college. She makes me proud.
She injured her back over the summer, and is still struggling with it. We are being referred out to Northeast Pain Management and for physical therapy. Its a compression fracture in her spine. It will heal on it's own supposedly, but it could take 6 months. She's impatient. :)
And she still hangs around with that no-good boy who doesn't recognize her worth. I wish she were stronger (stronger than me, stronger in general), and would just tell him to piss off. He doesn't deserve her. She doesn't realize that.
And she has some real issues with me saying those things. She would tell me to go take a long look in the mirror. She's angry.

I worry about Dawson. He is struggling academically. And emotionally, still. He still does not understand this entire situation... his step-dad is here a lot, yet we all still don't live together... (I think to myself... Trust me bud, I don't understand it half the time either)... He's really confused. And evidently I'm not offering the right explanations to ease that. He now has financial worries as well... He asked me just yesterday- Mom, what happens if we can't afford this house anymore? Where will we go? What will we do?
I just try to convince him that he has nothing to worry about, that I'll take care of it, that we'll be fine...

But I'm not sure I even know what "fine" is anymore.

Tuesday, October 8, 2013

An epiphany while driving...

I've had three really tough lessons in letting go this year. First, when my husband left us in March. Then again when my dad died in June. And then in August, when my husband left us once again.

I should be good at letting go by now. But I'm not. No matter how many lessons I've been given.

What I have learned, however, is that it's definitely a process. And it does happen as time passes.

That's really the only thing that's lent me any comfort lately. I know that the letting go will happen.. Is happening... Not nearly fast enough, of course, but it's always in process.

It's painfully slow, and mostly unnoticeable.

But then suddenly one day you realize- hey, I don't hurt as much as I used to. That's when you recognize the process.
And you gain strength.
And you keep going on.
And keep letting go.

Saturday, October 5, 2013

I don't know what to say. 
So I'll just quote Warsan Shire for this entire blog, since she pretty much speaks for me.
Thank you, Sam, for introducing me to her.
If nothing else, it's a good read, regardless of its relevance. 
And if you're reading it for its relevance, to my life, or to yours, then drink in every word.

"I’m not sad, but the boys who are looking for sad girls always find me. I’m not a girl anymore and I’m not sad anymore. You want me to be a tragic backdrop so that you can appear to be illuminated, so that people can say ‘Wow, isn’t he so terribly brave to love a girl who is so obviously sad?’ You think I’ll be the dark sky so you can be the star? I’ll swallow you whole."

"you are a horse running alone, and he tries to tame you
compares you to an impossible highway, to a burning house
says you are blinding him, that he could never leave you, 
forget you, want anything but you
you dizzy him, you are unbearable
every woman before or after you is doused in your name
you fill his mouth, his teeth ache with memory of taste
his body just a long shadow seeking yours
but you are always too intense, frightening in the way you want him,
unashamed and sacrificial

he tells you that no man can live up to the one who lives in your head
and you tried to change didn't you?
closed your mouth more, tried to be softer, prettier, less volatile, less awake
but even when sleeping you could feel him travelling away from you in his dreams
so what did you want to do love, split his head open?
you can't make homes out of human beings, someone should have already told you that
and if he wants to leave, then let him leave
you are terrifying and strange and beautiful
something not everyone knows how to love."

"two people who were once very close can
without blame
or grand betrayal
become strangers.
perhaps this is the saddest thing in the world"

"how far have you walked for men who've never held your feet in their laps?
how often have you bartered with bone, only to sell yourself short?
why do you find the unavailable so alluring?
where did it begin? what went wrong? and who made you feel so worthless?
if they wanted you, wouldn't they have chosen you?
all this time, you were begging for love silently, 
thinking they couldn't hear you, but they smelt it on you, 
you must have known that they could taste the desperate on your skin?
and what about the others that would do anything for you, 
why did you make them love you until you could not stand it?
how are you both of these women, both flighty and needful?
where did you learn this, to want what does not want you?"

"for the fifth time this month you say you’re going to leave him
he calls you a cunt over the phone
then walks the three miles to your house
and kisses your mouth until the word is just a place on your body.
i don’t know what brings broken people together
maybe damage seeks out damage
the way stains on a mattress halo into one another
the way stains on a mattress bleed into each other."

"i don't know when love became elusive
what i know, is that no one i know has it
my fathers arms around my mothers neck
fruit too ripe to eat, a door half way open
when your name is just a hand i can never hold
everything i have ever believed in, becomes magic.
i think of lovers as trees, growing to and
from one another searching for the same light,
my mothers laughter in a dark room,
a photograph greying under my touch,
this is all i know how to do, carry loss around until
i begin to resemble every bad memory,
every terrible fear,
every nightmare anyone has ever had.
i ask did you ever love me?
you say of course, of course so quickly
that you sound like someone else
i ask are you made of steel? are you made of iron?
you cry on the phone, my stomach hurts
i let you leave, i need someone who knows how to stay."

Friday, October 4, 2013

"And you tried to change,didn't you? Closed your mouth more. Tried to be softer, prettier, less volatile, less awake… You can’t make homes out of human beings. Someone should have already told you that. And if he wants to leave, then let him leave. You are terrifying, and strange, and beautiful. Something not everyone knows how to love."
Warsan Shire, For Women Who Are Difficult To Love

Lana Del Rey - Summertime Sadness

Wednesday, October 2, 2013

For once, this blog won't be entirely about my marriage.
Notice I did say "entirely". It will undoubtedly still have content relating to it.
But anyway...

I offered to become a foster today for a (unnamed) rescue. (Funny, this is also related to my marriage, in that- I wouldn't be able to pursue this if my husband lived here... anyway)... I filled out the required foster application. My landlord and veterinary references were checked.
Most people who know me, know that this place would make for a fabulous furry foster home.
However, because I am of a somewhat holistic minded nature, and only vaccinate for rabies (as required by state law), I am not eligible to foster.
And this is the requirement of most rescues out there.
Now, I understand their position. But it still gets under my skin.
I want to help those dogs who need foster care, but I'm not willing to compromise my principles to do so.
And so, no fostering for me. Boo.

The job search continues. And not very successfully.
I've interviewed for two jobs in which I thought I should have been a "shoe-in". To no avail.
My interview with the humane society went well, or so I thought. Just as I thought of the last two interviews though, so who knows... Unfortunately, however, the job at the humane society pays minimum wage. It figures, a job that I would absolutely love, pays so very little. I did send a follow-up email to my interview, reiterating my interest in the position (as I always do). I have decided that if I am offered the job, I will take it. I will have to figure out how to make ends meet, but I will love what I'm doing while figuring it out.
I also had a preliminary interview with my vet's office this week. They are hiring a full-time receptionist. There are a few concerns with this though... I don't know if I can handle 9 1/2 hour days. I don't know if Dawson can handle being alone after school every day- he is technically old enough, but I'm not sure that he's emotionally old enough. I don't know if I can handle working 45 hours a week, and Saturday nights at the bar on top of that; If the pay isn't great, I will have to. Then again, any office experience I have is from so many years ago, that I may not even get a second interview. We shall see.

Speaking of Dawson...
He hates me, I'm convinced.
Today he came home from school, and immediately wanted to go to his father's. And so he did. In fact, "I want to go to my dad's" has become a regular occurrence here. Last week and this week, especially.  Today is Wednesday, and would have been a scheduled day to go anyway, and so he went.
He's having a hard time processing his emotions right now. Puberty, and this whole thing with his step-father, seems to be an emotionally deadly combination for him. He is confused by his own feelings; he loves his step-dad, and is happy to see him when he is here, yet he is angry with him too. Dawson and I talk about this quite openly, and I reassure him that it is normal, that it is okay to carry more than one feeling at a time, even though it may seem confusing. I feel the same way. We have very open communication about it.
I have talked to my therapist (who was his therapist originally) about potentially getting him back in.
I don't know what else to do for him. Other than to keep doing what I'm doing; loving and supporting him as best I can.

Logan is busy. Work and college. So far the old useless boyfriend hasn't completely crept back into her life. He calls on occasion, just often enough to set her head spinning. I wish he would just go away. She is such a bright, beautiful girl, and deserves so much better. Hopefully she'll see that eventually.

Speaking of Logan...
I testified as a character witness for her father this week in his present divorce/child custody case. How absolutely bizarre. Many aren't familiar with our history... We aren't your every day ex's... We have a long, dirty, ugly past with one another. We litigated over primary residence (no marriage to dissolve, no property, just Logan) for FIVE YEARS. A family matter had never been appealed to Superior Court, until our case, if that gives you any idea. It was disgusting. And even after it was all settled, we despised each other for years. Fighting publicly at various sporting events, refusing to adjust the court ordered visitation schedule at all, we could barely communicate, let alone be in the same room together... It was really bad, for a very long time. Somewhere along the way though, things got better, a little at a time. Now, don't get me wrong, I wouldn't necessarily call him "friend"... But his future ex-wife is using some pretty dirty tactics that aren't very fair in the interest of their child. And let's face it, she was never kind to Logan all those years. Ever. And so when his attorney called me (who, small world, happens to be a good friend of my mother's, and the woman who officiated my wedding with Ben), I agreed to help out.
Good karma can now come my way any time.

Speaking of marriages and divorces...
(Hey, I said it wouldn't be "entirely" about my marriage)...
I'm still struggling, of course. But I'm (almost) learning to enjoy my alone time.
Granted, much of my alone time is still filled with bitterness. But there is at least a tiny speck of "I'm okay" in there somewhere. Sometimes, there are even brief or minute reminders why this separation is a good thing. And not just for him... If there's one thing I've learned, it's that it's not just him who needs to decide what he truly wants. As hurtful as this has been, it has probably been good for me, too. There are lessons for me to learn in this; I just have to figure out which ones are the right lessons.
My therapist continues to try and convince me to "live in the moment", to not over-think.
But, isn't that how my marriage wound up here in the first place?
I'll enjoy the moments, but I'll never stop thinking.
I have a lot to think about.

I've spent all day in my pajamas. And I don't feel one bit badly about it.
I figure I will enjoy this time of unemployment while it lasts.
Now, back to Netflix.

Friday, September 27, 2013

Life is funny.
Although it's no funnier than it was during my last blog a few days ago. Life is status quo. 
Still funny.

I continue to spend time with my estranged husband. All the while trying to make the most of that time, enjoy the moment(s), play pretend.
Pretend that this isn't the most unusual circumstance I've ever been in. One of the most bittersweet. One of the most painful.

I still don't know if the "ultimate goal" will ever be realized. 
Primarily because I don't know if it's even possible. We enjoy our time together, we love one another. In fact, I love him more than I've loved any man. But let's face it, we are separated (again) for valid reasons. Perhaps this truly is irreconcilable.
Secondly, because I'm not sure that I can make it to that point, if it is possible. Saying goodbye to him every time we are together is proving to be very difficult. The constant wondering if this is truly going to work. The incessant analyzing of every single situation (does he still love me, is he thinking about giving up, am I doing this right, or that right, or this wrong, where is he and what is he doing, should I hold back, am I too invested, am I invested enough..). The ceaseless worry about whether or not it's right to be spending time with our children. And the risk of it not working may be the worst. The fear of that pain, all over again.
And I question my own faith.
Which, considering how hurtful and disruptive (and frequent) this has been, is completely normal I suppose.
I am sure of my love for him. It seems it's everything else that I'm unsure of.

Love is a big thing (understatement).. It's all encompassing. It's monumental. But I'm learning that "everything else" is just as big.  It's kind of late in life to be learning this hard lesson. But it is learned. Even this skeptic used to hold fast to the notion that The Beatles were right, that love was all you needed; that through love, all things were possible.  It's quite depressing, actually... To realize at 40, that somewhere deep down in this pessimistic heart and soul of mine, there was still that Disney-edge hope that "love conquers all"... Guess I never really grew up.
I was searching for an epiphany. 
That was one I could have done without.
The Beatles LIED.

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

I don't want to teach my children that spouses "quit" once and a while, live apart from one another, and visit when it's convenient. That this is how love works, or how a marriage operates. But then again, I want to teach them that forgiveness can be found in love and strength; that love endures all things. That love, no matter what, prevails.

That was something I posted on Facebook the other day.
I haven't yet figured out the dilemma; I'm not sure I ever will.
And in the meantime, I constantly worry about the message I am sending to my children.
And perhaps, the message I am giving myself.

We talk. We text. We visit.
We go out in public; it's no secret that neither one of us can bear to actually let go.
We discuss that this is (possibly, hopefully) temporary.
We discuss the issues. We discuss our love for one another.
We discuss the (possible) "ultimate goal"... Reconciling our marriage.
We've spent time with our respective step-children..
The two of us have had overnights.
Sometimes here, at home. Sometimes at the apartment.
- I italicize that because it seems the only way to convey the absolute profound bitterness associated with it. It is still something I have not been able to accept. The place that theoretically should provide us with some "alone time", (or apart time, for that matter), does nothing but represent dissidence and discord for me. I can't relax there. I can't enjoy myself, the time, or the company. I'm not sure that that will ever change.
And unfortunately, our visits here at home usually end in bitterness as well. Well, at least for me. One moment he's here, we're having dinner, watching tv, we're going to soccer, everything's... "normal"... and nice.. wonderful.. But the next minute, his pillows are packed, and he's gone. Back to the apartment. Back to our separate lives.
And I sit here...
This hurts... It's downright sickeningly painful..
It is so much harder than I thought it would be. Than it seems it should be.
Is the "end worth the means"... Is the "ultimate goal" even possible...
Can I do this? Can I?

This entire thing seems so bizarre. So unnatural. So abnormal.
And then, in talking with my therapist, she says it's actually quite normal. People (married couples), do it-separate- more often than you'd think. She's counseled hundreds of couples.
Seriously??? And how the HELL do THEY live through it? Is there a book on this somewhere that I can read?? Are there case studies somewhere that I can analyze??

Can I do this...

Most times, I've realized, it is much like (subconsciously) playing pretend.
At the apartment, I am pretending that it is a get-away, a mini-vacation, a hotel, perhaps.
At home, I pretend that everything is normal. That we are a united family. That my husband lives here.
But pretend play only lasts so long. Only as long as the moment itself.
And then, reality hits. Violently. Like a brick in the face.

Other couples do this? People ACTUALLY do this?

Often, I feel like I am simply floating along, waiting to gain proverbial consciousness.
Waiting for the moment in which my catatonic brain awakens, shakes me silly, and screams-
"What are you doing?!? Quit doing this to yourself! Get a grip!! Crista, YOU ARE DONE!!"

Perhaps I am hoping for that moment of clarity.
Or any moment of clarity, for that matter. A sign. An epiphany. Something. Anything.
Just give me something, for christ sake.... Please.

Can I do this...

I am waiting to find "the beginning".
I don't yet know what it is.

Saturday, September 21, 2013

Thursday, September 19, 2013

I haven't been doing much blogging as of late. Mostly music videos, quotes, and a lame attempt at some creative writing.

My husband finished moving out this week.
Unless you've ever been in this position, I can't POSSIBLY help you to understand how painful it is. Not just for me. For Dawson. For Logan (although she doesn't say much, other than to express how angry she is).
Perhaps even for my husband and step-daughter; but I cannot speak for them. On the surface, of course, it appears to be very easy for them. I mean, he is the one that left. Abruptly. Again. And is now settled into his new apartment. And (based on the children's conversations) my step-daughter seems to have adjusted to the idea even before they were gone.
Anyway, I digress...
Poor Dawson... He has slept in my bed for the last two weeks (I know, what a terrible habit to form. Especially considering he's almost 12. Oh well). He's more distraught about this than any of my other failed relationship adventures. He talks about it every night. He is having a hard time sleeping. He mentions that he thinks about it in school, out of the blue. He is having a (more than usual) hard time focusing. He recognizes (and verbalizes) that this is affecting him "more than before", or, "more than he thought it would"... He is so sad. He keeps saying "I just want him to come home. I want things to be back to normal"... He wants to play with Kayli. He wants to see Troy.
I could entertain that.
We are talking.
Talking about.... what? I don't know. Things. Ideas. Stuff.
I did say- If you leave again, there is no going back. You are dead to us.
Those were the words I spoke.
Perhaps harsh, but that was the promise I made to myself.
Someone told me recently, "those are the easiest to break"... Perhaps they were right.
It is a very odd emotional position to be in... to love someone so much, and want nothing more than to be with them... and to be so hurt by them, and angry with them, at the same time.
Such an unusual conflict.


The job search continues.
No word from last week's interview. Even though I thought it went very well. Even though the human resources woman said she would let candidates know one way or the other.
I had another interview yesterday with a local credit union. The interview went well (although that's what I thought about the last one). I have banking experience. I should be a shoe-in. But then again, probably so are a bunch of the other pursuers. I won't hear anything on this one until sometime mid-end of next week.
Pretty soon I won't be able to be so particular in my job search... I really don't want to work at Dunkin, or Marshall's, or Job Lots (etc, etc, etc)...

Funny how something as simple as a job search can add to the bitterness. And not just the financial aspect (although that of course is a huge deal, which I will probably complain about later)...
I enjoyed being home. Working the bar on weekends. I used to complain of how bored I was. I thought of getting another part time job, more for entertainment purposes than financial reasons. I wasn't lazy. I worked, earned an income. Took care of the household.
In retrospect, I enjoyed it. Being home for my little guy when he gets on and off the bus. Being available if he was sick. Seeing Logan between classes (as that seems the only time I see her). Puttering around the house during the day. Running errands. Writing. Doing laundry. Getting groceries. Mowing. Doing whatever.
Now I'll be an overworked schmuck, hardly seeing my kids, getting little sleep, rubbing pennies together, just to put gas in my car to get to my two jobs, in order to barely pay the bills. If I'm lucky.
(And in comes the financial complaints)...
Sell my dream car to catch up on piles of overdue bills. Pay rent for one or two more months to keep the roof over our heads. Hope that the oil tank doesn't run dry. Spend out of savings to buy my son a decent birthday present, dog food, new work clothes...  And wait, it gets better, because Christmas is just around the corner... Sigh.
My savings is running out. And the bills/expenses keep coming in.

And then there's my broken heart.

5 Great Things About Today...
Eh, fuck it.

Tuesday, September 17, 2013

Open windows and closed doors
silent rooms, filled with space
Vacancy lives here

Dusty outlines where pictures dwelt
empty frames with broken glass
Memories torn from their place

An abandoned bed for two
pots and pans and furniture, divided
A life pieced out

Echos of laughter
images of children at play
The haunting reminiscence

A box of memoirs
a collection of promises
Void of their worth

A house once a home
united by a family
now a structure, purposeless

A love uninterrupted
still alive, but not united
Vacancy lives here

"Not as We"

Reborn and shivering
Spat out on new terrain
Unsure unconvincing
This faint and shaky hour

Day one day one start over again
Step one step one, I'm barely making sense
for now I'm faking it 'til I'm pseudo making it
From scratch begin again
but this time I as I, And not as We

Gun shy and quivering
Timid without a hand
Feign brave with steel intent
Little and hardly here

Day one day one start over again
Step one step one, I'm barely making sense
for now I'm faking it 'til I'm pseudo making it
From scratch begin again
but this time I as I, And not as We

Eyes wet toward
Wide open frayed
If God's taking bets
I pray He wants to lose

Day one day one start over again
Step one step one, I'm barely making sense
for now I'm faking it 'til I'm pseudo making it
From scratch begin again
but this time I as I, And not as we

Saturday, September 14, 2013

Sail away with me honey
I put my heart in your hand
Sail away with me honey now, now, now
Sail away with me, what will be will be
I wanna hold you now, now, now...

Friday, September 13, 2013

Thursday, September 12, 2013

5 Great things about yesterday (since I didn't write):

~I got a huge notch taken out of my "to get" list. Like new glassware, fry pans, plates, and bowls.
~My very sweet hairdresser (and friend) squeezed me into her very busy schedule for a trim.
~I made another batch of soap and dropped it off with Stacie (who sells it throughout the Cianchette building at EMMC), and picked up money from the batch she just sold.
~Soccer last night with Dawson and Mom
~Cuddling in bed, watching tv, and falling asleep with Dawson

Still no word yet on the job. I got antsy this morning and emailed the human resources lady to check the status... She told me that the office manager had a late interview yesterday and had not gotten back to her yet with a decision, but that she would let all the candidates know once she had.
So there is still hope. Fingers still crossed.

I have several resumes out, and I just keep sending them.
Something will come along soon. The cap to my Jones soda said so.

One thing I haven't talked about lately is my meds and the looming potential for a bipolar diagnosis. I had talked to my doc about weaning off my meds a few months ago. And so we tried it. I started feeling a bit more touchy, so I went back up on the dosage (this was shortly after dad passed). Oddly, I ran out shortly after going back up on the dosage, and forgot to refill. By the time I did refill, I had been off the Depakote for a week. So I decided to try just not going back on...
I've now been off the Depakote for a little over a month. And doing okay, especially given the circumstances. I'll have another follow-up appointment with the Doc in the near future, and be kept "in the system" just in case.
I feel very good about this. I was never convinced that medicating was the answer to my problems. But it seemed everyone around me did. For years I resisted. I finally began trials of mood stabilizers last fall, which eventually lead to the psych eval and the Depakote this year.
I never did know for sure whether or not there was a noticeable difference in how I felt, or in my demeanor. But my husband claimed there was. The only thing I noticed was that I felt "flat". Less impassioned. And yes, many true bipolars go off their meds for that very reason. And they get into trouble for it.
It's been a little over a month for me, and I haven't killed anyone yet. I jest. Seriously though, I haven't felt any differently. I feel pretty okay. "Normal".  :)

I spoke to my husband yesterday briefly on the phone about some minor details. I mentioned filing for divorce. "You're going to file??? ... I understand... But you're probably going to have to do it"...
This of course struck me in a strange way. Why would he be surprised?  In fact, I'm not sure why he wouldn't be jumping for joy. He did leave, after all. He already has a new place.  He did cite the numerous reasons he was so unhappy.  I don't understand. I'm sure I over-analyze.
Which doesn't help my mindset any.

Our one year anniversary is this Sunday.
Together for three years, and married for one.
And now it's lost. Just gone. Done.

Things are so strange here now.
Quiet, harmonious, unruffled, and generally okay, but still strange...
I often forget to be angry.
I miss him daily. I go to sleep thinking of him. I wake up thinking of him.
And dreamless sleep is a thing of the past. Some nights I skip the 75mg of benadryl, so I can just deal with the insomnia- At least that way I won't dream.
I have been trying to work on acceptance. And I'll tell you what, that's a tough one. The pain, the grief, the loneliness, the anger... as if all of that isn't enough... the acceptance part is just the cherry on top of the break-up cake.
Because one just never fully understands why.
You'll never know if the love you had was a big fat lie, or if the person you loved was just not meant for you, or if they just didn't love you enough, or if maybe you just didn't love them enough, or maybe this, or that, or some other fucking thing...

Someday I'll stop asking why.
I'm still working on acceptance.

Monday, September 9, 2013

I'll start this blog with something I began on Facebook, and never stuck to....
(In fact, I think I'll try and start every blog with this, regardless of the content. It's just good karma.)

"5 great things about today":

~I had a very good session with my therapist.
~I got a call for an interview, after submitting my resume just hours before. I interview tomorrow morning.
~I had a great dinner with Logan and Dawson, with lots of comic relief.
~Soccer season is in effect. Cold, but distracting. And fun to watch Dawson compete.
~Helping Dawson with homework, without a fight emerging between the two of us.  (This sounds simple, but is in fact a huge feat, lol)...

And so, today wasn't so bad.

Dinner with me and the two kids doesn't happen as often as I'd like (between soccer, college, work, etc)... And tonight it was downright gut-busting. But serious, in moments, as well. There was a lot of talk and laughter.
And no fighting while we do homework??? That's a near miracle.
Funny how the simplest of things, like these, can make a day so much brighter. And a future.

And I'm actually pretty excited about this interview. Maybe not so excited about the job itself... it is a bit conventional for my taste. But then again, I guess everyone has to grow up sometime. Being a receptionist isn't what I've always dreamt of being, but hell, it's not McDonald's.
I think what gets me excited is the fact that the human resource manager called me within hours after I submitted my resume and cover letter via email, and asked if I could interview tomorrow morning. I hate to assume anything, but that certainly seems like a good sign, right?
This job could be the change we need here. Keep your fingers crossed.

The call came in right before I had a very refreshing session with my therapist.
We (of course) discussed the separation and inevitable divorce.
I swore at her, cursed her office; Every time I walk through the door I need the tissue box. What is it about that office, anyway? Damnit. Anyway, I digress...
I need to find more distractions. Work would be good. Soccer is good. Getting together with friends, going out, meeting people. Watching TV, cleaning, listening to music, or even "looking online at rescue dogs" (as per my therapist's advice).  :)  Distractions will help.
And imagining helps. Imagining, for instance, that my husband did for some reason come home. What would it be like? How would I ever trust him or feel secure and safe again? How would I exist, always waiting for the other shoe to drop? What kind of reality would that be? An awful one. One that no one deserves. Especially not me and my children.
And remembering helps. Remembering that we've done this time and time again. Remembering that I've given all, and never given up. And that he hasn't, and has.
And time. Love doesn't just go away. But it will fade, with time. Time will take it away, ease the pain. Every minute of every day, as insignificant as it may seem, is the passing of time.
And having no regrets helps. I have none. My conscience is clear.

Be well, all.
Live without regret.

Take your records take your freedom
Take your memories I don't need 'em
Take your space and all your reasons
You'll think of me

Take your cat and leave my sweater
'Cause we got nothing left to weather
In fact I'll feel a whole lot better
But you'll think of me

Sunday, September 8, 2013

It's been two weeks.
And I still have not been able to let go.

My husband's reminders of how unhappy "we" were, his talk about his new place, his claims to love and miss me- "but"... are all persuasive.
And still, I don't let go.

I will, though.
I have to.

I'll never understand how one walks away from something so special.
"Love bears all things, endures all things"...
Perhaps it wasn't the love I thought it was all along. Perhaps it was a lie. That's the only explanation there is.
It simply didn't exist. At all.

And so, I let go.

Letting go..

Saturday, September 7, 2013

Corinthians 13
The Way of Love

If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.
And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing.
If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude.
It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful.
It does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth.
Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

Love never ends.

So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.

Friday, September 6, 2013

You're gonna miss me...

Wednesday, September 4, 2013

So, the divorce diet is in full effect. 9 pounds in a week and a half.
Who needs the gym.
I guess that's what happens when your diet consists of strictly gingerale and coffee. The coffee to function, and the gingerale to (try to) appease the constant, relentless upset stomach and nausea.
I try to pick at food here and there, but it just doesn't work.
Oddly, the only time I've actually been able to eat was the brief time I spent with my husband the other night.
Go figure.

Today was essentially the cherry on top of the cake of my week, when the brakes went in the truck I'm borrowing from Mom. I need to find a vehicle. Again. I hate vehicle shopping (especially under such circumstances.. I'm sure that makes it that much more enjoyable).
I have just so much money to work with, and I am hesitant to spend much of it on a vehicle, thinking I could hold onto some to help get through until I find work. But then again, you get what you pay for.

Unfortunately, I'm miserable to be around. This is evident by the amount of time Dawson is choosing to spend at his Dad's. He decided to go tonight. After we were arguing. Mostly about homework and his attitude.. but I'm sure my lack of tolerance and patience is contributing to our butting heads. He is angry that I am not myself.
I am trying to be. I really am. Most times I've been much better than this at masking everything and being the same old Mom.
This time it seems I am failing. That sucks. I need to figure out how to manage it.

Logan isn't home enough to deal with me, I guess. Between school and work. Although, her, Dawson, mom and Nana were all here for dinner last night. I wasn't much of a hostess.
Logan has a lot going on right now in her own life. She just started college. My first baby, in college. Sigh.
And this stupid ex-boyfriend of hers, who I thought was actually out of the picture, keeps trying to weasel his way back in again. Especially when he needs something. Like a ride to his court date. Sigh.
I hope she is a smart girl.
Lord knows her mother is not a great example of successful management of love and relationships.

It's about 7 o'clock.
No kids are here. I'm alone. It's eerily quiet.
What to do with myself?
Same thing I always do. Sit around. Walk the house aimlessly.
Cry. Watch Duck Dynasty to try not to.
Take a bunch of benadryl. Sleep.
Hopefully, dreamlessly.