My, my, my... such a whirlwind of activity over the weekend, and such little motivation to write about it...

Brief Herc update...
He is well. Doesn't seem to be any more stomach issues at the moment. Still has loose stools, but the diarrhea is gone. Eating, peeing, voiding normally. Acting normally.
We seem to be in the clear for now. But as I've mentioned, he IS the poster child for weird illnesses. And with his multiple chronic conditions already, I am all too aware that we have a limited amount of time to love him.

Logan's boyfriend has evidently decided to put off moving back to California until after prom. Which makes her happy. Well, happier. She is still quite crushed that he's going. I hate seeing her sad...
She is working a lot of hours while going to school and keeping up with studies. It's evident that she is overtired. I can't even bring myself to say- welcome to the real world, kid. Because the real world sucks.

Things "stabilized" here last week only to unravel just as quickly this weekend.
More little earthquakes, that turn into big earthquakes, that turn into discussions of divorce. Well, screaming matches about divorce, rather than discussions, per say.
I'm not even sure how we go to that place. But it happens. Nearly every time we fight. And it doesn't always need to be preceded by a fight. Often times it's just one of us (okay, Troy) discussing how needs aren't being met, and how unhappy he is, and that things will never change, and that we should call it off. Yes, you all recall. We've been here before. A few times.
I try to fix me to fit him, and life goes on.

This time definitely wasn't one of those calm talks about needs and changes and such. This time was much more of a production. Lots of yelling, some crying, cursing. Good and ugly.
Actually, it all began with me bringing up the need for change, for once. Me asking for more improvements, more compromise, more meeting my needs. That's where it started, anyway.
And somehow it turned into everything else.. Money, kids, etc, etc, etc...
It abruptly ended with a theatrical performance of a wedding band flying across the room, a "fuck off, go file the papers tomorrow!", and a slamming of the door so powerfully that the casing came right off.
And so, I calmly walked up the stairs, filled two suitcases, and set them outside.
After a brief interlude of "text fighting", he came to get them later in the evening. Nothing since. Thank goodness. Peace and quiet.
Well, nothing other than noticing that my facebook status went from "married to Troy Varnum"... to simply  "married". Well there. Usually I'm the one who makes those impromptu emotionally charged relationship status changes. Guess he wanted to beat me to it.
Oh well.

And that's really been my feeling since yesterday afternoon- just, "oh well".
Obviously I haven't yet digested any of it. Or maybe not...
Maybe I've just done this sooooo many times with him that I'm beyond panicking.

There IS reason to panic, of course. Financially at least, right away. It's no secret that Troy held all the financial power in this relationship. One of my many mistakes was allowing that to happen.
Honestly, I have no idea what I'll do. No idea.

As far as emotional panic? Eh, this stuff is old hat for me. I'm a pro at breaking up. I'll be fine.
"Oh well".

And so, the week ends better than it began.

Herc is better. At least for now he's avoided going under the knife. After two days of x-rays, they finally decided that they didn't think there was a foreign body in his stomach. Although they went back and forth several times throughout Thursday and Friday.
The final consensus between the vets is that the barium collecting in his stomach shows an emptying problem, rather than a foreign body. They sent him home on Friday on a bland diet. We're watching him closely. If he shows any signs of being ill, then it's back to the vet. He's eating chicken and rice, drinking and peeing. He is still having trouble voiding, and that gives me pause. I'll touch base with the Doc again tomorrow morning.

Poor Logan is still broken hearted. Which means so is her mother.

Can't we just fast forward through this part of teenage stuff? :(

As far as the rest of it...
Things are re-stabilizing here.
The short of it is that we still have not learned to properly handle the "little earthquakes". 

Through counseling, hard work, patience, and love, we've made great gains. But for some reason we came back from vacation and seemed to have forgotten everything. Every coping skill, communication tool, every ounce of patience, all our work over the last few months; gone, nonexistent.
I don't know why we do that.

It really does baffle me, these "cycles" we seem to be in. Troy and I have a stronger, deeper, more foundational love than many couples I know. Certainly more than I've ever known myself. And yet, we continue to experience these little mishaps... we improperly handle them, we fight, we don't speak for two or three days, and before you know it, I'm pissed off enough to change my relationship status on facebook (I know, funny... Funny, but not funny... Stupid funny.. Okay,  retarded.).
We both obviously still need work.
But, I haven't lost all hope that we can succeed. And I guess that says something.

I skipped my therapy appointment this week. I didn't feel like talking. I missed a re-evaluation with my psych nurse over vacation. I keep meaning to reschedule. I think I'm putting it off. Even though the new meds they tried me on are almost out at this point. I think I'm frustrated. I know I am. 

I don't feel any better. I still have bouts of anger where I behave like my prepubescent son. Throw things, slam things, yell and curse. I still get depressed. I still have excitable moments, highs.. (Just last night, my co-bartender thought I was hysterical, and asked- "Did they switch your meds or something?".. Ha. Ha.). I've lost interest in crafting. Shocker. I've started thinking I needed another dog. I want to trade my car in. I used to love to read; I'd devour book after book, after book... I can't tell you the last time I even thought about reading. I don't just "worry"; I'm paranoid. Paranoid; I don't like that word.

I'm starting to think that nothing will help. Perhaps it's not chemical, it's not a "disorder" at all, it's just how I'm wired, and that there is no help for it. But there's got to be. There has to be.

Teenagers, dog puke, and relationship woes. If none of this sounds remotely interesting, then hit the little "x" in the top right hand corner of your webpage.

Herc, our fondly labeled "ten thousand dollar dog" is sick again. Well, he was sick, he seems like he might be okay now. But we won't know for sure until after our visit with the vet this afternoon.
He's been vomiting for two days. And just this morning, I think I found the source of his troubles... a rope toy in his vomit. If in fact that's all there is, then we're damn lucky he got it up. Last time, we weren't so fortunate... $2000 later, and we got the stuffed toy out of his stomach and intestines. I swear, that dog is gonna bankrupt me...
So anyway... he sees the vet this afternoon to make sure there's nothing else going on.
Damn dog.
And even better? Last night while cleaning up his vomit, I ended up getting sick too. Weak stomach, and no one else here to help me. So, I lost my pastrami sandwich (which really hurt coming back up undigested), and ended up cleaning up after the both of us.
Damn dog.
I was able to stomach one more pile this morning, but I haven't gotten to the second one yet. Not pushing it.
Damn dog.

My daughter is suffering her first heartbreak.
The unapproved boyfriend appears to be moving back to his hometown. In California. Which of course satisfies me, as I recognize that he's not good enough, for her or to her. Logan may not see her worth, but I do. He says he'll come back and visit her. He claims they'll maintain a relationship long distance. But we all know how that will end. And Logan does too.
Unfortunately, while I am relieved, she is heartbroken. And there is nothing I can do to fix it for her. She is talking to me about it, which is good. She clammed up to me for a while recently. I'll listen, be supportive, and offer objective advice when appropriate. I am so sad for her.
Watch as she cries; cry when she's not watching.

And as Logan loses faith in her relationship, I continue to lose faith in mine.

So many "little things", done purposely and disrespectfully.
So many "little" hurts, "little" let downs, "little" betrayals...
Adding to a pile of almost three years of little things... A very large and incredibly sad pile of little things...

I have put more effort into this relationship than any other in my lifetime. I have been more vulnerable, more trusting, and more open than ever before in my years. And I've come to know myself better than ever before. And to know others. So much learning over these last few years.
I've loved more than I ever thought I had the capacity for.
This week, and the pile... that's why it hurts so much, I suppose.
So much disappointment and sadness. A deep, painful sadness..

That ain't no way to live a lifetime...

Ahhh, home from vacation.
Where we spent and made money, all in the emotional whirlwind known as gambling. You're up, you're down, you're up, you're down... Wash, rinse, repeat. And that, my friends, is supposed to be fun.
All kidding aside though, it was a nice vacation. Just the husband and I, enjoying a nice big suite at the casino, expensive meals/shows/trinkets, lots of quality time...
And then, the return home.
Back to life. To the dishwasher, the laundry, bills, dogs, annoying children.. Did I mention the dishwasher?
To dissidence, adversity, dissatisfaction, vexation, despondency...

Really.. who loads and unloads their dishwasher three times in less than 48 hours? I do.
These last few weeks I started playing a new game. A game I like to call "Let's see how long it takes for this to get picked up- put away- cleaned- changed- taken out- taken care of...." Well, the end result was always the same, as you can probably predict... It takes as long as I can stand before I cave and do it myself.

Dissidence, adversity, dissatisfaction, vexation, despondency...

Then there's money (speaking of vacation, gambling, money)...
I once retired from managing the bills. Because, as it turns out, I wasn't doing very well at paying the bills. Funny thing is, they're still not getting paid. Huh.
And money... the root of all evil... My husband always has it. I seem to never have it. I'm still not sure how that works.

Dissidence, adversity, dissatisfaction, vexation, despondency...

Now I'd like to change topics... This next topic is "privacy". More specifically, how that topic walks (or doesn't walk) hand-in-hand with marriage.
Oh, I DO believe there should be privacy within a marriage. Privacy, as in- I'm on the phone with my mother and we're having a gossip session about my sister. Or, privacy as in- my best friend and I are talking about her sex life. Or, privacy as in- I'm taking a big stinky poop and I'm about to wipe, or better yet, I'm changing my feminine hygiene product. THAT kind of privacy is natural and perfectly acceptable in a marriage.
So here's the kind of privacy that I feel is UNnatural in a marriage....
The-  "we haven't been getting along lately, and even though you've always had complete access to my facebook, I've now changed my password, and didn't tell you about it, and when you found out, I said it was because "I'd like to be able to have a private conversation if I want to on facebook without your scrutiny'" - kind of privacy. THAT, my friends, is the kind of privacy that just doesn't exist in a marriage. Or damn well shouldn't.
Especially not in one with pre-existing trust issues.

Kids. Kids are great. I love 'em. Don't always like 'em though. I love 'em, but they break my heart. How is it that for karma? Really?

Music...
I'm retired. I'm retired. I'm retired. I'm too old. I don't have "it" anymore.
Keep telling yourself that, Crista. One day it'll sink in.
And the itch will go away. The DT's, the withdrawals, the empty hole...
Music was my passion. Now it's dogs. Once in a while it's something else.. like a new job, a new relationship, a new hobby, maybe college, or another hobby, or something else...
Nothing sticks. I have no staying power. I have no passion.

Dissidence, adversity, dissatisfaction, vexation, despondency...