1. i'm anorexic, bulemic and a compulisive binge eater. currently i'm in the binge eating mode but i'm trying to shake it all together. i've often said that if i could take a pill and never have to think about food again that i would take it. it floods me.
2. i loath tomatoes. not just hate them or dislike food with tomatoes. i detest them to the point of obsession. really, really don't like them.
3. i love color. all color, any color, all the time. my favorite is probably green but don't tell the others.
4. hip hop music is some of my favorite music. i'm not talking about more modern rap/hiphop, although there is lots of good out there. i'm talking about de la soul, blacksheep, old school ll cool j, anything beastie boys and my all time favorite is a tribe called quest....i left my wallet in el segundo...i got to get it...i got got to get it. swear i was born in brooklyn but mother still denies it.
5. i trained as a dancer (predominantly ballet) from my 2nd birthday until i was around 16, some of which was with the florida ballet. i quit because my knees finally gave out....that and i discovered i wanted to party and have sex with boys, which is so much more fun than killing yourself in a studio 8 hours a day.
6. i have a tattoo i got during my bachelorette party in 98. it's a purple, cursive w for my husband's last name. granted, we weren't even married yet and no, i was not drunk at the time. just in love.
7. i weighed 98lbs when i graduated from high school, and i considered that really, really fat.see the anorexic note in #1. i think my left thigh weighs that now.
8. i've never been camping, hunting or fishing. i like air conditioning.
9. i like to watch jackass and i really think it would be fun to attempt some of the stunts. i also think johnny knoxville is crazy sexy.
10. this one's personal but explains so much about my struggles with lots of different issues. i am a survivor of rape and participate in some support groups here in jax. brutal, life changing, violent and cruel. it changed my very core and i am thankful for it everyday. sounds strange, but i would not be the wife, mother, friend, human being that i am if not for this.
11. i believe that forgiveness is the greatest gift you can give yourself.
12. i met my very best friend in the world on a school bus when i was 15. i should preface it by saying that neither of us were dorks but instead were in need of some wheels for a couple of months. we both met older boyfriends a few months later and never stepped foot on that bus again. back to the story. she could eat an apple without her lips ever touching the skin of the apple. i knew we would be great friends because she was everything i wasn't. she's still my best friend 21 years later. love you, you crazy apple eating whore!
13. i really don't like dogs. they smell bad. they lick you. they jump and scratch you and have bad breath. i've tried to like dogs, really i have but i just prefer cats. they are self sufficient, loners, bitchy and completely unapologetic. i respect them for it.
14. when i die, i want to be cremated and then buried in a little debbie swiss cake roll box. seriously, i've even made it part of my will even though my attorney advised me not to make such silly decisions. i told him it wasn't silly and smacked him in the head with an oatmeal pie.
15. i am not afraid of dying but hope it doesn't happen until i'm old but not too old. god has a plan so when he takes me, i'll be ready.
16. i have severe depression and anxiety yet am often considered happy go lucky. zoloft must be working!
17. whatever you want to believe is your right and you should not be persecuted because of it. if it doesn't hurt others, you are not infringing on my freedom of speech or my personal rights and space, then more power to you.
18. i believe in god and have a relationship that is strictly between me and the big man. i will not iimpose my beliefs on you nor judge you for yours.
19. i pray everyday that i am doing the right thing with my children. that they will know how much they are loved, valued and accepted unconditionally.
20. i have little to no body hair, seriously, it's weird, yet both of my children are hairy beasts. poor abby will be shaving her legs soon or we'll have to start braiding those things!
21. i hope my kids think i'm cool. i know they won't in a few years but i love the fact that they love me for who i am and don't want another mommy. talk to me in another 5 years & it will be really, really different.
22. i went to a psychologist after high school and went through a series of test to find out my strengths and weaknesses. this was in order to find out my true "calling". they told me i would be most successful as an auto mechanic or a starving artist.
23. although i believe in being faithful and that mark and i will be married the rest of our lives, i do not believe in one soul mate. i just don't get it.
24. i got my first bra in 3rd grade and was a DD by the 6th grade. sounds like fun but it was truly, truly hell growing up with that body!
25. i've never been in a physical altercation. however, i have often wanted to punch someone square in the nose. not anyone in particular but it has crossed my mind during many arguments.
26. i don't really have a filter when it comes to talking about myself. if you want to know it, i'll tell you. even if you don't want to know it, i'll probably tell you. i try not to be ashamed or embarassed of anything i've done or said in my life, but that's hard. you can't change the past. i've done some horrible things and some incredible things. do i like me all the time, no. who does? i do think i'm a work in progress and am proud to be putting one foot in front of the other every single day of my life. i just hope that i can learn from my mistakes, forgive myself and move forward to be a better woman, friend, wife, mother, human being. isn't that what we all want?
Monday, November 30, 2009
holy crap...this sucks!
Current mood:
anxious well, good fucking morning to you!!!!
so that was what i got this morning at 8am. i was going to write about how much more grounded, solidly i feel that my marriage is over. after having a weekend with just the kids, and a visit from this new love, have reinforced my willingness to move forward. how even though i've been trying to go through the motions, that it is really over and i can't fake it for one more minute. that i am going to muster everything i have to make it a nice christmas but after that, i'm on my way. i was going to write about how much i need to step away from mark, start fresh, find a career, move in the right direction. and i suppose all of those things are very true, still very pertinent but have been overshadowed by his loathsome, hateful words. and these are just a few of the many, many lashings he gave me this morning.
i wasn't careful enough covering my tracks this weekend. i really wasn't careful at all. i suppose i didn't want to be. i wanted him to find out. not consciously but i wanted mark to put his foot down and say enough is enough. you hear that people do it. leave out evidence or the like not knowing that they will get caught but subconsciously wanting to be found out. i'm just sorry it ended up with him hating me, thinking that i'm some brazen hussy who wants him to finance my affair. he told me this morning that i "want to have my cake and eat it too". ha, how right he was (see previous blog about such).
he found out that i took him out to dinner on saturday night and then had him over to our house, in our bed, overnight. he found out because i told him i went to dinner, etc. with girlfriends and he just knew it wasn't the truth so he checked up on me. went behind me and did some research. can't be mad at him for being smart, just mad at myself for getting caught the way that i did.
well, needless to say, mark went bananas. and now i find myself holding what's left of my self esteem in a steaming pile next to me. he has calmed down but is still incredibly angry and hurt, and rightfully so. the guilt, humiliation and self hatred are enormous. i feel like the worst, more deplorable person. i not only cheated on my husband, which was just an outward sign of what had been done years and years ago. but then i couldn't say goodbye to him. i fell in love. hard. real. fully in love. and i brought him back here. to a house that my husband pays for with his hard work. damn, i look like such a heartless, cold bitch and i don't blame him for saying nasty things to me. i'm ashamed and it fucking sucks ass!
i stay here and take care of the kids but honestly don't have a cent to my name. and i don't have a career or formal education to fall back on. granted i've talked about all the ways that i do have a support system but it has come down to this. me. just me. moving out. moving on. finding a job. still being a good mom but standing on my own two feet. i'm about to leave this cushy lifestyle behind, go back to a life pre-mark and start over. start all over. in some ways it feels like starting over from scratch. in other ways, it feels right in the most peculiar, uncomfortable way. very strange indeed.
it won't be an easy road, i've known that from the start. it's just that now the road is most certainly being paved by me and my actions. and it's time for that trust in myself, not in doing the "right" thing but in doing the right thing for me, that instinctive guttural self preservation to kick into full gear.
for now, i am treading water. trying to keep my head above so i don't sink to the bottom. i'll continue treading as long as i have to. i'm a pretty tough cookie but even this one has me rattled.
on to plan b.......whatever that is?
Friday, November 27, 2009
my cup runneth over
Current mood:
content i overextended myself and cooked until i didn't enjoy it anymore. that in and of itself is such a shame since i do love to cook and even played around with the idea of being a chef when i was younger. yeah well, the last few days of cooking in my 1944 barely big enough for one asshole kitchen wiped those dreams far out of my head. i attended a preschool event, an elementary school event, a girlfriends night out event and got little sleep over the last 7 days.
i attended not one turkey day but two. oh yeah, because everyone should have to eat thanksgiving dinner with two families on two days. wednesday night was spent with mark's sister and her family. the turkey is always dry and the rest of the food is just cafeteria style and not up my alley. they are nice people and all but are catholic conservatives who consider board games to be the evenings' risque entertainment. so i just kept my mouth shut and tried not the make too much eye contact. worked out pretty well but i was still ready to go home as soon as i had arrived. can you say uncomfortable?
then last night i had to deal with my insane family members, most of whom need massive amounts of alcohol to be considered tolerable at such events. mom called dad a royal asshole and bitched about well, everything. dad just got shitfaced, which explains the asshole comment. my aunt and uncle continued to dictate the political conversation with their right wing extremist views. my brother decided that thanksgiving dinner, surrounded by not just family but also my parents friends, would be a good time to talk about the kkk, the american confederacy and the fact that he knows everything about everything! all of this might be well and good in other circles but at family dinner, on thanksgiving, oh yeah. they all opened up a big ole ball of crazy last night. crazy fuckers!!!
so i sat there, next to my husband, playing the part of a happy family so my extended family and friends wouldn't ask questions. i'm not ready to answer anyone just yet, thank you very much. granted, i was faking it and wanted to snap my fingers and be somewhere else half of the time. some people could say i was being the crazy person. but i still felt incredibly sane. sane for the first time in a very, very long time. i felt like the only clearly thinking person in a group of dis-functional, hypocritical, denial laden screwballs that i call my family.
this all may sound like i'm not thankful at all. that i'm some selfish little bitch. that may be the case. hell, half of the people in this country don't have nearly as much as i do on my plate, both figuratively and literally. and i am thankful for all of the "things" that are in my life, that i'm privileged to experience. i sometimes take them for granted but i am never ungrateful. my cup truly does "runneth over".
but this year i'm thankful for the clarity. i'm thankful that i finally seem to be making my own decisions. i'm thankful that my kids are a super cool part of my life. i'm thankful that i'm able to not only decipher what i want and don't want but i'm also willing to ask for such. i'm thankful to love and be loved by so many people. i'm thankful for my crazy ass family.
and i'm incredibly thankful right here, right now. for this hot cuppa, two cute, cuddly kids and a beautiful friday after thanksgiving.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
not a coincidence
Current mood:
weird that's right. it's the date of my 20 year high school reunion. in all likely hood, i will be attending said torturous evening. and in all likely hood i will not be walking in with my husband on my arm. instead i'm hoping to find a much more pleasing escort who just happens to have graduated along with me. i'm gonna have to seriously work my magic to talk him into it though. and boy do i have a long way to go before i'm worthy of hot girlfriend status again.
gulp. sigh. i feel nauseous just thinking about it.
the subject came up last night during dinner with two friends, one of whom graduated right along with me in 1990. she wants to go to this little soiree with hundreds of people we barely know. probably because she's even more beautiful and charming than she was as a teenager....bitch. me, on the other hand, not so much diggin the idea. the royal blue polyester was a crowning achievement in my 17 years and i wore it proudly. however, i never thought i would warm to the idea of a "reunion". what's the point, really? we already have the voyeuristic tools we crave with social networking sites. besides, i was never a super popular kid or a huge nerd or could really be put into a category per say. i knew lots of people, yes, but i really don't have anything to prove. but i am curious in a shallow and vacant way so i'll probably be there.
but i'm mulling over the idea. so after dinner last night, and a little time with the man i hope will be my date for said event (you are listening, right!), i looked at a calendar. curiosity i suppose but here's the weird part.........
the date of the reunion is a saturday which means that this past summer, july 17th was, you guessed it, a friday. and i don't know why but i went back to my journal for that same date this past summer. just a few short months ago. and i was floored to find that on july 17th this year, i was writing about what a fantastic southern barbecue lunch i had just shared with an old friend. about the rain that followed on the way home. how i was late for my sitter. i had written about how much i enjoyed seeing him again, after all these years, that i felt like i could say anything to him. how i was instantly attracted to him and how wrong that seemed given the fact that i was married. in that entry i questioned whether it was a good idea to see him again, even as a friend, because something felt different. there was a connection perhaps but definitely not something i should pursue. i even used the word "dangerous" to describe how he made me feel.
and with that, i was speechless. how on earth could it be that i was on a friendly lunch date with him just a few months ago and now i'm looking at that same date, 1 year later, and contemplating the cost of liposuction? i don't know about other folks, but i don't believe in coincidence.
fate, perhaps. destiny, sometimes. luck, oh, i'm definitely lucky. but coincidence.....
now i know why i bought those ruby slippers in the first place.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
november 21....spooked
Current mood:
uncomfortable holy shit! no more reading my horoscopes. they have been frighteningly accurate these days. seriously, it's starting to freak me out just a bit. and here's the funny thing....i think the web accessed horoscopes are a bunch of hooey so i have never, ever put much thought or merit into them.
however, the last few weeks i have stumbled upon the posts and read them, often times after the days have passed. and what i've found is an eerie consistency. i do think that an individual with an imagination can take any situation, any words and make them what they want to hear. i know for a fact that i've done it without even knowing. taken something said, blow it up into what i want or don't want to hear and act upon that feeling. leaves you wondering about the truth when that happens.
but i don't think i'm doing that with these little nuggets of info. instead, i've been curious. i think it's interesting, fun when i read something that is familiar, appropriate. when the possibility that these predictions based on my time and date of birth are even slightly accurate, well, i think it's just kind of cool.
although i probably won't read one for a couple of days, i'm sure i will go back to it again next week sometime. but for now, i'm shutting this shit down. it's got me spooked!
however, the last few weeks i have stumbled upon the posts and read them, often times after the days have passed. and what i've found is an eerie consistency. i do think that an individual with an imagination can take any situation, any words and make them what they want to hear. i know for a fact that i've done it without even knowing. taken something said, blow it up into what i want or don't want to hear and act upon that feeling. leaves you wondering about the truth when that happens.
but i don't think i'm doing that with these little nuggets of info. instead, i've been curious. i think it's interesting, fun when i read something that is familiar, appropriate. when the possibility that these predictions based on my time and date of birth are even slightly accurate, well, i think it's just kind of cool.
although i probably won't read one for a couple of days, i'm sure i will go back to it again next week sometime. but for now, i'm shutting this shit down. it's got me spooked!
Libra
A more serious tone to the issues of property, housing and your living circumstances should be applied at this time. You may be feeling the current circumstance of your home life doesn't offer adequate room for mental or emotional expansion, not to mention the fact that there may be limited space for you to do anything you wish. Now is the time to be out house hunting or looking for an alternative to the current situation.
Libra Love Horoscope
If it feels right, go ahead, no matter how far out of reach it seems! This is a time when inspiration goes hand in glove with opportunity, so be ready to take a risk and strike while the iron is hot. Save the extra stuff that you don't have time to implement right away, it'll be just as valuable down the line.
november 20....the questioning begins
Current mood:
adored i am part pissed and ready to vent.....
that's how i felt when i was asked recently if i was "shopping" for a new husband. seriously. a grown woman asked me if i was shopping for a new husband. well, why else would i want to get a divorce, right? you simply must be married. don't you want to get married again? why wouldn't you want to get married again? that's what you need to do.
what the fuck? of course, this friend also told me that i needed to get my ass in shape if i was going "back on the market"....great friend, huh? like i'm a fucking piece of meat. honestly, i kept picturing some absurd auction with divorced women wearing numbers pranced around in their best dresses and presenting suitors with their best apple pie. will they be the lucky girl who gets picked? will their fine physique, tastefully chosen dress or their ability to cook a good pie win them a new husband....a better husband. only so many men to go around, right?
FUCK THAT! pretty self explanatory that i disagree with the questioning and refuse to answer such nonsense. but next came another feeling.
i am part introspective.....
it did get me thinking. alright, so say that mark is completely out of my life as a partner. it is certainly looking that way. granted, he will still always be a provider for the kids and for a while he will have to support me (he's gonna hate that). but he's gone. i'm alone as an individual, parenting as a pair but no longer a partner in life. no man around on a consistent basis to do what a man does.
what is that exactly? what is it that i'm tossing aside that is so incredibly valuable and makes me whole? without it, aren't i still whole? yep, i think i'm just fine. i do love mark. he gave me these beautiful children. he gave me love, although not fulfilling for me, he gave it. he gave me many, many years. i would never discredit him for his commitment to our life together. but it's always been a commitment to something hollow. it's as much my fault as his. choosing to push the lack of partnership to the side. deciding that i was fine, even if i wasn't. i lied to myself and to him. the guilt is overwhelming but what's done is done.
and although i'm thoroughly enjoying this new love in my life, who appears to be unshaken by all of this, is it real? will it last? are we simply serving a purpose for one another right here, right now and when it ends, it ends. that it will end eventually? doesn't feel like it will, i hope it doesn't, but again, so many unanswerable questions about that relationship. i know how i feel about it. he knows how i feel about it but there are no guarantees. are there ever any guarantees? i got married with a guarantee that i would stay committed to it for the rest of my life, a commitment i took seriously. and now look at me. i'm in a holding pattern.
so essentially i am saying that i would rather take the risk of being alone, lonely at times, than being with mark any longer? so that led me to another feeling.....
i am part questioning....
i'm not questioning my intentions. my intentions are to provide something more for myself and eventually for all of my family, including mark. i'm very clear about the intention of ending this partnership. life is too short. cliche, yes. appropriate, abso-fucking-lutely.
instead i question whether i would ever get married again? do i even want to get married again? certainly i think that marriages can work. but just like all relationships, they take work, communication, trust, honesty, openness, some great fulfilling sex, a willingness to make yourself available. placing another persons needs right along your own, not above them or below them but as equal billing.
do i have that with mark...no. could i have it with mark if i tried more....i don't think so. could i have it with someone else....yes, i think i could. not sure that i believed i could until recently but my eyes have been opened. i'm feeling full, understood, happy, calm. not sure that has ever happened before but i'm rollin with it for as long as i can.
so would i get married again? yes, but the next time around, well, would be different. so what would it look like, to get married again?
i want to have someone fit me. not have to try and fit me. compromise, yes, but change the essence of the person, no way. i think when i married mark i considered the wedding band to be a symbol of belonging to him. that i was now tied to him. no matter the cost. the only way i would wear a band again is if it symbolized what i think it should truly represent. what is that? that the band is an extension of one person to the other. a multiplying of yourself. a desire to be more, to multiply your love. a symbol of a commitment, yes, but a commitment that includes you instead of an exchange of yourself. i don't ever want to think of it again as an exchange of rings but instead as a joining of them. isn't that what it's suppose to be about anyway?
most of all, i don't ever want to pretend again. i don't want to hide myself. i'm not a trophy wife, never have been, never will be. i'm beyond low maintenance physically and i would likely look a hell of a lot better if vanity were a concern but alas, it's just not my thing. i am trying to shave my legs more often so hopefully i won't scare any suitable men away.
where was i? oh yeah, i want to be able to live vividly, have someone appreciate and love *all* of me, not just some of it. i want to love someone and have them love me madly in return. so if it happens, that would certainly be lovely. and if it doesn't, at least i can love myself.
that's how i felt when i was asked recently if i was "shopping" for a new husband. seriously. a grown woman asked me if i was shopping for a new husband. well, why else would i want to get a divorce, right? you simply must be married. don't you want to get married again? why wouldn't you want to get married again? that's what you need to do.
what the fuck? of course, this friend also told me that i needed to get my ass in shape if i was going "back on the market"....great friend, huh? like i'm a fucking piece of meat. honestly, i kept picturing some absurd auction with divorced women wearing numbers pranced around in their best dresses and presenting suitors with their best apple pie. will they be the lucky girl who gets picked? will their fine physique, tastefully chosen dress or their ability to cook a good pie win them a new husband....a better husband. only so many men to go around, right?
FUCK THAT! pretty self explanatory that i disagree with the questioning and refuse to answer such nonsense. but next came another feeling.
i am part introspective.....
it did get me thinking. alright, so say that mark is completely out of my life as a partner. it is certainly looking that way. granted, he will still always be a provider for the kids and for a while he will have to support me (he's gonna hate that). but he's gone. i'm alone as an individual, parenting as a pair but no longer a partner in life. no man around on a consistent basis to do what a man does.
what is that exactly? what is it that i'm tossing aside that is so incredibly valuable and makes me whole? without it, aren't i still whole? yep, i think i'm just fine. i do love mark. he gave me these beautiful children. he gave me love, although not fulfilling for me, he gave it. he gave me many, many years. i would never discredit him for his commitment to our life together. but it's always been a commitment to something hollow. it's as much my fault as his. choosing to push the lack of partnership to the side. deciding that i was fine, even if i wasn't. i lied to myself and to him. the guilt is overwhelming but what's done is done.
and although i'm thoroughly enjoying this new love in my life, who appears to be unshaken by all of this, is it real? will it last? are we simply serving a purpose for one another right here, right now and when it ends, it ends. that it will end eventually? doesn't feel like it will, i hope it doesn't, but again, so many unanswerable questions about that relationship. i know how i feel about it. he knows how i feel about it but there are no guarantees. are there ever any guarantees? i got married with a guarantee that i would stay committed to it for the rest of my life, a commitment i took seriously. and now look at me. i'm in a holding pattern.
so essentially i am saying that i would rather take the risk of being alone, lonely at times, than being with mark any longer? so that led me to another feeling.....
i am part questioning....
i'm not questioning my intentions. my intentions are to provide something more for myself and eventually for all of my family, including mark. i'm very clear about the intention of ending this partnership. life is too short. cliche, yes. appropriate, abso-fucking-lutely.
instead i question whether i would ever get married again? do i even want to get married again? certainly i think that marriages can work. but just like all relationships, they take work, communication, trust, honesty, openness, some great fulfilling sex, a willingness to make yourself available. placing another persons needs right along your own, not above them or below them but as equal billing.
do i have that with mark...no. could i have it with mark if i tried more....i don't think so. could i have it with someone else....yes, i think i could. not sure that i believed i could until recently but my eyes have been opened. i'm feeling full, understood, happy, calm. not sure that has ever happened before but i'm rollin with it for as long as i can.
so would i get married again? yes, but the next time around, well, would be different. so what would it look like, to get married again?
i want to have someone fit me. not have to try and fit me. compromise, yes, but change the essence of the person, no way. i think when i married mark i considered the wedding band to be a symbol of belonging to him. that i was now tied to him. no matter the cost. the only way i would wear a band again is if it symbolized what i think it should truly represent. what is that? that the band is an extension of one person to the other. a multiplying of yourself. a desire to be more, to multiply your love. a symbol of a commitment, yes, but a commitment that includes you instead of an exchange of yourself. i don't ever want to think of it again as an exchange of rings but instead as a joining of them. isn't that what it's suppose to be about anyway?
most of all, i don't ever want to pretend again. i don't want to hide myself. i'm not a trophy wife, never have been, never will be. i'm beyond low maintenance physically and i would likely look a hell of a lot better if vanity were a concern but alas, it's just not my thing. i am trying to shave my legs more often so hopefully i won't scare any suitable men away.
where was i? oh yeah, i want to be able to live vividly, have someone appreciate and love *all* of me, not just some of it. i want to love someone and have them love me madly in return. so if it happens, that would certainly be lovely. and if it doesn't, at least i can love myself.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
i think i'm ready
Current mood:
contemplative i've been told many times over the last few weeks that i have everything i need within myself. everything i could ever need right here at my disposal. that things are not as grim and desperate as they often seem.
but i don't see it. i never see the good that other people in my life see. there is always a "flaw" at the heart of things and that flawed element is me. however, i've been trying really hard to see myself the way others do. to put aside my skewed sense of self and see below the surface. to what others find good, beautiful, funny, sexy, loved.
it had me thinking about my support system, my skill set, my ability to shift and transform, how i can navigate this trench carefully. so i decided to take inventory. look at the bigger picture involved.
for starters, i have so many wonderful people in my life. friends who support me no matter the issue. i rely on my really good friends to help me decipher the way i feel and the rational that is often missing from some of my decisions. they are all incredibly unique and simple people. and i have many the acquaintance. i don't know a stranger in this town and if i do, it won't be for long. so i have a long list of connections and back doors on which to call.
i am fortunate to have a tightly knit family. my mother and father are really good human beings. the fact that my mother and i don't see eye to eye on the dissolution of my marriage to mark doesn't make me love her any less. i just have to be very selective with the information that is shared. my brother is a fucking nut, borderline personality, alcoholic, bipolar, suffers with severe crohns disease and is a general loony tune. however, he is by my side no matter....just not ever sure which "identity" will show up. makes for interesting holidays to say the least.
employment is something i'm simply not that worried about anymore. i have been offered a tentative position as a preschool teacher starting in july. i loved being a teacher last year and was hoping this proposition would come to fruition. somewhat disturbing to think my foul mouth helps shapes little minds but i leave my raw behavior for adults only. it's a part time preschool, educational, not daycare, and i would be working during the same times as my children are in school. leaves me time to spend with my kids after school, work on whatever art form speaks to me. super stoked. so i have employment, if everything goes according to plan, starting late summer.
my creative endeavors have been spanning out as well. i've had some interest from friends as well as friends of friends to do some photography for them. i also have the option of setting up at local art festivals with some of my creative endeavors, of which there are many. my folks are super supportive and are willing to help me get my shit together so i can pursue my creative calling. i've pushed it to the back for far too long.
as if that weren't enough, i have a wonderful man by my side who believes in me completely. he loves me right now, right this minute, and that's all i need. don't know what the future might hold with him but i'm enjoying it right now. feels good to be loved.
essentially, i am convinced, although skeptical, that things are going to be okay. in fact, they may be better than okay. sounds to me like things are moving right along. there's a plan, a schedule in place with mark, the kids are adjusting well to having just one parent around at a time, i have temporary residence at my folks house a couple of nights a week.
all in all, i'm starting to see what other people see. i like what i see when i look in the mirror. not the outside appearance, mind you, but the inside stuff. the gooey middle that is me. i feel pretty fucking good in my skin.
i feel like i'm ready. i'm really fucking ready.
*latest self portrait 11/17/09*
but i don't see it. i never see the good that other people in my life see. there is always a "flaw" at the heart of things and that flawed element is me. however, i've been trying really hard to see myself the way others do. to put aside my skewed sense of self and see below the surface. to what others find good, beautiful, funny, sexy, loved.
it had me thinking about my support system, my skill set, my ability to shift and transform, how i can navigate this trench carefully. so i decided to take inventory. look at the bigger picture involved.
for starters, i have so many wonderful people in my life. friends who support me no matter the issue. i rely on my really good friends to help me decipher the way i feel and the rational that is often missing from some of my decisions. they are all incredibly unique and simple people. and i have many the acquaintance. i don't know a stranger in this town and if i do, it won't be for long. so i have a long list of connections and back doors on which to call.
i am fortunate to have a tightly knit family. my mother and father are really good human beings. the fact that my mother and i don't see eye to eye on the dissolution of my marriage to mark doesn't make me love her any less. i just have to be very selective with the information that is shared. my brother is a fucking nut, borderline personality, alcoholic, bipolar, suffers with severe crohns disease and is a general loony tune. however, he is by my side no matter....just not ever sure which "identity" will show up. makes for interesting holidays to say the least.
employment is something i'm simply not that worried about anymore. i have been offered a tentative position as a preschool teacher starting in july. i loved being a teacher last year and was hoping this proposition would come to fruition. somewhat disturbing to think my foul mouth helps shapes little minds but i leave my raw behavior for adults only. it's a part time preschool, educational, not daycare, and i would be working during the same times as my children are in school. leaves me time to spend with my kids after school, work on whatever art form speaks to me. super stoked. so i have employment, if everything goes according to plan, starting late summer.
my creative endeavors have been spanning out as well. i've had some interest from friends as well as friends of friends to do some photography for them. i also have the option of setting up at local art festivals with some of my creative endeavors, of which there are many. my folks are super supportive and are willing to help me get my shit together so i can pursue my creative calling. i've pushed it to the back for far too long.
as if that weren't enough, i have a wonderful man by my side who believes in me completely. he loves me right now, right this minute, and that's all i need. don't know what the future might hold with him but i'm enjoying it right now. feels good to be loved.
essentially, i am convinced, although skeptical, that things are going to be okay. in fact, they may be better than okay. sounds to me like things are moving right along. there's a plan, a schedule in place with mark, the kids are adjusting well to having just one parent around at a time, i have temporary residence at my folks house a couple of nights a week.
all in all, i'm starting to see what other people see. i like what i see when i look in the mirror. not the outside appearance, mind you, but the inside stuff. the gooey middle that is me. i feel pretty fucking good in my skin.
i feel like i'm ready. i'm really fucking ready.
*latest self portrait 11/17/09*
Monday, November 16, 2009
the other blogs
so i decided today that i would post here, for my own "record keeping", a couple of justin's blog posts that struck me. he tends to seldom write but when he does, well, they speak for themselves. they all show just what kind of a "simple" man he is and also explore the depth of what he is capable of expressing. enjoyable reads.
this first one is titled the hidden benefit of packratism....
his ex-wife made a brief appearance, just enough to ruffle his feathers and this is what he wrote. i like it....i hate having to write about exes.
I hate having to write about exes.
Really, I do. I'm a believer in "what's done is done" and not crying over spilt milk and all that shit. But I hate that I feel the urge to write something about an ex.
For the past nine years I've been keeping written logs, journals if you will, about things that bug me. I write to get the white noise of the swirling nonsense out of my mind and onto paper where it can be forgotten. You know, feelings and shit. Get things out and move on.
But the reason I despise giving pen-time to exes is a personal one. I hate that I have been driven to expel emotional bullshit that I had left for dead long ago. I hate that I let it get to me, and that it gets to the point of needing to let go all over again.
What I *will* do, however, is provide a brief recap of how full my life has been without her.
I left town, lived in Europe for a while, made some good friends there. I returned, set up house in a different town, made more friends and only a couple of enemies, and became a footnote in the local lore of that town.
Then my dog died, then I retired (became downsized due to the fucking recession), sold the car, moved to another town, came out of retirement, and became a pillar of strength and resolve for my family.
Peppered throughout this period are brief and intense love affairs (that have already been written about) that made me learn more about myself as a man.
I learned my capabilities, my tolerances, and my responsibilities to myself and my family. In short, I grew up. I have to admit that it really did sneak up on me, but I did in fact grow up.
i know what to do, how to act, whom to avoid, and with whom to forge alliances.
I rock. I really rock.
and this one, well, i love this man. i really love him.....titled good fucking weekend.
this first one is titled the hidden benefit of packratism....
Ok, I'm a packrat. I collect all sorts of shit, with the thought that I *might* need it in the future. Some things hold sentimental value that cannot be replaced, other things are just strange and unusual and merit special considerations for their uniqueness. Other things I just forgot to throw away, and I enjoy a sick sense of amusement at myself when I find these things. I ask myself "why the fuck did I decide to keep this?"
Either way you look at it, collecting shit is a sort-of time capsule. Hot Wheels cars. Lighters. Pocket knives. Random pieces of ammunition. Brass buttons. Foreign currency. College ID cards. Hand-carved wooden boxes from India. Squashed coins from the railroad track. Old jewelry. Whether good or bad, each item has a story. Inherent within each story is at least one lesson. Do this, or don't do this again.
I bring this up because I was rummaging through one of my boxes of shit in my closet, trying to find the pocketknife I bought in Italy three years ago (still don't know why I was looking for it), and found something I hadn't thought of in years. My wedding band from my last marriage. I looked at it, and found it to be ugly. It reminded me of the woman who was attached to the other end, and all the negativity that came from that short period of my life.
In and of itself, it's a decent ring. White gold, simple band, no inscription. Just enough of a shiny little trinket to mark me, its former wearer, as a taken man.
Looking back on it now I still regret having taken that special step with that woman. However at the time it was the honest and decent manly thing to do. I won't go into details.
Back to the ring: for shits and giggles, I tried it on. Too fucking small! It only fits on the one pinky finger, next to the ring finger where it formerly was installed. This made me ponder... Also, the several beers I had prior to this discovery might have put me into an introspective state of mind... So I pondered this little gold band for a bit...
The logic went like this:
The ring doesn't fit. It's too small.
The ring didn't shrink, so I must have grown.
I've been the same weight (mostly) for 20 years, so the growth must be attributed to something other than, or in addition to, the fact that I use my hands to earn my living.
The growth IS mental as well as physical.
I have grown exponentially (in the mental sense) since I removed that ring from my finger.
The funny thing is that I really don't show it. I act like nothing has happened. I keep all those lessons-learned deep and close to my heart. Outwardly I might as well be a fresh college graduate; still full of passion for living. Young, but well educated. Inwardly, I know endless pain. It has aged me beyond my years.
Of course, I can't go bragging about the type of education I have. Most people shy away from such difficult lessons. Most people hope they never have to walk my path.
So here I am, well-versed and strategically silent. Listening to some hard rock and sipping my Redneck Martini. Waiting.
Either way you look at it, collecting shit is a sort-of time capsule. Hot Wheels cars. Lighters. Pocket knives. Random pieces of ammunition. Brass buttons. Foreign currency. College ID cards. Hand-carved wooden boxes from India. Squashed coins from the railroad track. Old jewelry. Whether good or bad, each item has a story. Inherent within each story is at least one lesson. Do this, or don't do this again.
I bring this up because I was rummaging through one of my boxes of shit in my closet, trying to find the pocketknife I bought in Italy three years ago (still don't know why I was looking for it), and found something I hadn't thought of in years. My wedding band from my last marriage. I looked at it, and found it to be ugly. It reminded me of the woman who was attached to the other end, and all the negativity that came from that short period of my life.
In and of itself, it's a decent ring. White gold, simple band, no inscription. Just enough of a shiny little trinket to mark me, its former wearer, as a taken man.
Looking back on it now I still regret having taken that special step with that woman. However at the time it was the honest and decent manly thing to do. I won't go into details.
Back to the ring: for shits and giggles, I tried it on. Too fucking small! It only fits on the one pinky finger, next to the ring finger where it formerly was installed. This made me ponder... Also, the several beers I had prior to this discovery might have put me into an introspective state of mind... So I pondered this little gold band for a bit...
The logic went like this:
The ring doesn't fit. It's too small.
The ring didn't shrink, so I must have grown.
I've been the same weight (mostly) for 20 years, so the growth must be attributed to something other than, or in addition to, the fact that I use my hands to earn my living.
The growth IS mental as well as physical.
I have grown exponentially (in the mental sense) since I removed that ring from my finger.
The funny thing is that I really don't show it. I act like nothing has happened. I keep all those lessons-learned deep and close to my heart. Outwardly I might as well be a fresh college graduate; still full of passion for living. Young, but well educated. Inwardly, I know endless pain. It has aged me beyond my years.
Of course, I can't go bragging about the type of education I have. Most people shy away from such difficult lessons. Most people hope they never have to walk my path.
So here I am, well-versed and strategically silent. Listening to some hard rock and sipping my Redneck Martini. Waiting.
and yet another from him....titled the jacksonville purpose.
Ok, so I eventually ended up back in my "hometown," and spent a few sleepless nights pondering why the fuck HERE, why the fuck NOW? Then a few more sleepless nights wondering how long it's going to be until I end up somewhere else.
Yeah, typical reactions of anyone moving to a new town. "Allright, I'm here. Now what?"
Some events during the past few days and weeks have hinted that I'm supposed to be here. That I am destined to be here. Why? I still don't fucking know. I'm sure that will be revealed to me when the time comes.
For now, I can relax a bit, knowing that there's a purpose. That's it. That's all I know, that there's a purpose. How am I so certain? Funny you should ask...
It all boils down to the phenomenon of Deja Vu.
Not that I've already done what I'm doing, or even stuck in a rut that *seems* like I've done it before, but that I am getting little clues that tell me yes, I am supposed to be here, supposed to be doing what I am doing.
Mostly it happens at work, in the shop, where I have absolutely no control over my immediate environment or what happens in it. In other words, I am not in any way influencing the timing or the placement of these clues I mentioned. They just happen. Mostly mundane, always brief (one or two seconds), and never expected. I can be doing absolutely anything, talking to absolutely anybody, and suddenly I feel like I'm watching my memories, looking back on them, from somewhere else.
My inference is this: I have evidently made it to another destination from where I am now. I'm not destined to remain at my current job, I know that for certain. But the funny thing is that I seem to have been *meant* to take this job, meet these people, and live where I live. And do what I do.
The part that stays with me constantly is the fact that I don't know where all this will lead. Am I riding a current? Yes and no. I'm flowing with something... Am I striking a path where there wasn't one before? Dunno. Can't tell yet.
All I can say is that it's interesting to consider where I've been, what I've done, and where I've landed for the moment. One big fucking circle. With some zig-zags thrown in for good measure.
ahhhh....this one might be the sweetest of them all....called [insert swordfight here]
So I am once again single. Dammit.
Backstory: I stole a woman's heart, she stole mine, we shared an amazing yet brief and intense love. But the "rightful heir" aka her husband, stepped in to steal her back.
Truthfully, I should never have been fooling around with a married woman to begin with. But if you knew the entire story you'd understand, and you'd want me to do something about it. If this were a movie, I'd gather damning proof against my foe and present it in defense of my case. I'd tell of my true love, of his false love. I'd tell of my empowerment of her, his imprisonment of her. Then there'd be the obligatory hollywood-style swordfight to the death. (hey, in hollywood it's always like that, thanks to Eroll Flynn.)
Flash Gordon saved whats-her-name. Westley saved Buttercup. Kurt Russel saved Kim Kattral in "Big Trouble in Little China." The list could continue, but writer's lube (aka beer) has fogged my movie memory just a bit.
Anyways, back to the issue at hand. The swordfight.
It simply cannot happen this time around. I'm too late. My love from long ago has willfuly entered into a marriage contract from which she cannot escape. Even someone as dastardly and as devious as myself will have no effect on her prison walls.
She was given an ultimatum, to either cease and decist, or to lose everything. I know deep down that her everything is her children, and she cannot bear the thought of having to live without them in her daily life. So the husband, evil fucker that he is, knows he has the leverage in his favor. She will continue to be his household prisoner. She'll cook and clean, take care of the kids, wipe up vomit, apply band-aids to cuts (he can't, since he's weak-stomached and faints when he sees blood), and be the good wife that he tells society she is.
All the while, she and I are in pain. I'll go on with my life, following my path wherever it takes me, always remembering her. She'll go on with her life, nurturing her kids, knowing that she is indeed loved, although not by the man who married her.
So much for a hollywood ending. The days of swordfights are long-gone.
Backstory: I stole a woman's heart, she stole mine, we shared an amazing yet brief and intense love. But the "rightful heir" aka her husband, stepped in to steal her back.
Truthfully, I should never have been fooling around with a married woman to begin with. But if you knew the entire story you'd understand, and you'd want me to do something about it. If this were a movie, I'd gather damning proof against my foe and present it in defense of my case. I'd tell of my true love, of his false love. I'd tell of my empowerment of her, his imprisonment of her. Then there'd be the obligatory hollywood-style swordfight to the death. (hey, in hollywood it's always like that, thanks to Eroll Flynn.)
Flash Gordon saved whats-her-name. Westley saved Buttercup. Kurt Russel saved Kim Kattral in "Big Trouble in Little China." The list could continue, but writer's lube (aka beer) has fogged my movie memory just a bit.
Anyways, back to the issue at hand. The swordfight.
It simply cannot happen this time around. I'm too late. My love from long ago has willfuly entered into a marriage contract from which she cannot escape. Even someone as dastardly and as devious as myself will have no effect on her prison walls.
She was given an ultimatum, to either cease and decist, or to lose everything. I know deep down that her everything is her children, and she cannot bear the thought of having to live without them in her daily life. So the husband, evil fucker that he is, knows he has the leverage in his favor. She will continue to be his household prisoner. She'll cook and clean, take care of the kids, wipe up vomit, apply band-aids to cuts (he can't, since he's weak-stomached and faints when he sees blood), and be the good wife that he tells society she is.
All the while, she and I are in pain. I'll go on with my life, following my path wherever it takes me, always remembering her. She'll go on with her life, nurturing her kids, knowing that she is indeed loved, although not by the man who married her.
So much for a hollywood ending. The days of swordfights are long-gone.
his ex-wife made a brief appearance, just enough to ruffle his feathers and this is what he wrote. i like it....i hate having to write about exes.
I hate having to write about exes.
Really, I do. I'm a believer in "what's done is done" and not crying over spilt milk and all that shit. But I hate that I feel the urge to write something about an ex.
For the past nine years I've been keeping written logs, journals if you will, about things that bug me. I write to get the white noise of the swirling nonsense out of my mind and onto paper where it can be forgotten. You know, feelings and shit. Get things out and move on.
The topic that has historically earned the most pen-time is that of a failed relationship. The loss, the confusion, the negativity, and finally the resolution. All neatly written down into a little book that can be stashed back on a shelf.
But the reason I despise giving pen-time to exes is a personal one. I hate that I have been driven to expel emotional bullshit that I had left for dead long ago. I hate that I let it get to me, and that it gets to the point of needing to let go all over again.
So I just won't do it. I won't acknowledge this issue, I won't dedicate any more of my precious time to feed the vanity of someone who isn't worth pissing on, even if on fire.
What I *will* do, however, is provide a brief recap of how full my life has been without her.
I left town, lived in Europe for a while, made some good friends there. I returned, set up house in a different town, made more friends and only a couple of enemies, and became a footnote in the local lore of that town.
Then my dog died, then I retired (became downsized due to the fucking recession), sold the car, moved to another town, came out of retirement, and became a pillar of strength and resolve for my family.
Peppered throughout this period are brief and intense love affairs (that have already been written about) that made me learn more about myself as a man.
I learned my capabilities, my tolerances, and my responsibilities to myself and my family. In short, I grew up. I have to admit that it really did sneak up on me, but I did in fact grow up.
i know what to do, how to act, whom to avoid, and with whom to forge alliances.
I rock. I really rock.
and this one, well, i love this man. i really love him.....titled good fucking weekend.
Yup, it's true. Finally had a really good fucking weekend. Three consecutive days of enjoyable and memorable good times, including a fully-involved sleepover dinner date with my sweetie, complete with home-cooked breakfast.
And even the weekend's finish was good; taking care of small chores around my house while outdoors in the kick-ass early-fall weather. Cleaned the windows on my truck, finished draining the pool, tore down and put away grandad's Topsy-Turvy Tomato planters, and helped catch a snake in my neighbor's pool. Lots of random do-nothing chores that somehow left me feeling like I have accomplished something.
Normally a Sunday evening means it's time to stop enjoying life and time to start preparing for the dreaded workday that follows. But not this time. I am ready to face tomorrow.
Normally a Sunday evening means it's time to stop enjoying life and time to start preparing for the dreaded workday that follows. But not this time. I am ready to face tomorrow.
It's a good change from the usual grind. Most of the time I work my shitty job, make no progress toward my goal of earning my Architect's license, and nightly ease my daily physical-labor pain with multiple Redneck Martinis. Then wake up the next day and start the whole wretched cycle again.
However this weekend has left me feeling like there's something good coming toward me. I won't return to my shitty job in the morning with the usual "fuck this, why the fuck am I here" attitude. Instead I feel renewed, and will walk into the shop tomorrow morning knowing that my days there are numbered. That there is a light at the end of the tunnel, and it's not an oncoming train.
I have a wonderful woman who believes in me. We both agree that I'm in the wrong line of work and that my talents are being wasted. It's one thing for me to think I have wasted my time and skill, but it's entirely another thing for someone else to see it. She encourages me. She validates me. She ensures me and comforts me. After a whole uninterrupted weekend with each other, I feel powerful. Invincible. Recharged. Loved.
I have what I need to start directing my life in the right direction.
To quote a member of the A-Team, "I love it when a plan comes together."
meet sybil
november 16
mood: exhausted
different personalities pop up out of nowhere. each unique, each dangerous, each potent, powerful and each one serves her very own purpose. the problem is, you don't know which one you will get. hell, even i don't know which one will rear it's ugly head or when! it's really the luck of the draw these days.
for instance...today i woke up feeling despondent, detached. i didn't want to have anything to do with anyone. about an hour later i became angry with photoshop because it simply wouldn't cooperate with me, irrationally angry mind you. then i showered and cried. nothing set me off. just cried like a little girl. then i became frustrated, annoyed with everyone and everything around me. following that i was very happy, thinking of all the ways i was so blessed in life. then suddenly i was a weeping mess again. after that came desperation, fear, depression, feeling alone and misunderstood. then i was sexual aroused by a very interesting proposition. that always puts me in a pretty good fucking mood. especially considering the source of excitement.
where was i again? oh yeah, then i was in hysterical, belly aching laughter about something but can't remember for the life of me what it was. then came the felling of being loved and being perfectly accepted just the way i am, followed again by more anger, frustration, confusion, a trip to my mother's house which let to a possible trip to the nutty farm in between the hurt, the quiet and finally the exhaustion.
true honest to goodness exhaustion. physically i look and feel like shit. seriously, i've looked "rough" before, but this may be a new low. i don't sleep which makes for a very, very tired body and mind. emotionally i have no idea how to feel. there's just too much of it. it floods me. pulls me every which way. and spiritually i feel lost one moment on a journey i don't find comfortable. it's far too unfamiliar and dangerous. yet the next thing i know i'm skipping down a path that feels in every way a perfect fit. grounded and real. like i can sink my toes into the earth and stay there.
i have to decipher the right from wrong, my voice out of all the others. i have to figure out how to dig myself up, listen and just follow the sound. it's far harder than it seems. the worst part is that i know, i just fucking know, it is only the beginning of harder things to come. better find myself quickly or i'll be overrun with crazy women, and not the good kind.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
let's make a deal!
i can't recall that i ever watched the game show aptly titled "let's make a deal". i do remember it being on tv when i was a kid but can't put my finger on a specific memory that involved watching an episode. i was too busy watching "the gong show" and "hong kong fooey" to be bothered. my brother even appeared on an episode once when he was 3. he was called from the audience along with my dad and wanted to trade something for a matchbox car. when asked what he had to "make a deal", he pulled out a kleenex. the kid had nothing but a kleenex but was still ready to barter. now that takes some balls. he was walking away with that matchbox car no matter what and sure enough, that's precisely what happened.
i kind of feel like all i have is a kleenex in my pocket. the difference is that i'm not some cute 3 year old who can get away with a sympathy gift. nobody will give me the matchbox car just because i'm cute. i have to turn my kleenex into something more desirable with which to barter. instead i'm a grown woman with a number of things weighing heavily against her. no job, no money of my own, well, the list is long. on the other hand, i have lots of great things going for me but the logistical deal making is difficult and i have to navigate it carefully.
i do think that i made some progress today, although slow, it's still something. went to see the therapist and took hubs with me. we talked about trying to come up with a "plan" of attack to get one of us out of the house. i need space. no doubt about it. he doesn't want the space. no doubt about it.
so we were at a standstill until today. and although his resistance has been a constant distraction, i'm really proud of the fact that i'm sticking to my guns and continuing to push for this much needed separation (giving myself a big pat on the back). my biggest fear is that we won't do it in enough time to contain the "damage" it is and will do to the kids. i know it will happen one way or the other. the kids will not be happy that our family is splitting but i'm also confident that it's the best thing. i just want to do it as amicably and quickly as possible so we are all on the same page, whether we like it or not. i'm willing to compromise.
i have presented many possible scenarios to mark and all of them have been ill received. then again, i could give him a plan that involved me winning the lottery and supporting his ass and he would still find something wrong with it. but i digress....we have come to some sort of deal today and i have to be happy with it for now. we will be working out a schedule so that each of us spend certain nights away from our house and the kids. when i am the sole parent, mark will stay with his sister. says he will be too lonely having an apartment or other place alone. i can understand and respect that. when mark is the sole parent, i will leave. but that's where it gets complicated. i will likely stay with my parents for a while but long term won't work. they are good people, want what's best for me but i fear that they will try and "interrupt" or become involved with the process. i don't need this to be any more complicated than it is already.
now i have to figure out what's next for me. i need time alone to be myself. not lonely, just alone. rediscover what it's like to be myself, my likes and dislikes, what i want in the long run, map things out for my future, really dissect what is about to happen. i will have to look for a place to live. a small one bedroom apartment, cheap, easy, but all mine. i don't just crave it, i need it.
so with my trusty kleenex in hand, i will do some finagling of my own. i will attempt to make a deal. i will take that tissue and somehow convince mark that it's worth the additional living expenses that will be incurred. that it's a kleenex unlike any other. that this kleenex is equal to my freedom. this could be one hell of a tough deal to sell but if my brother can do it, so can i.
wish me luck.
i kind of feel like all i have is a kleenex in my pocket. the difference is that i'm not some cute 3 year old who can get away with a sympathy gift. nobody will give me the matchbox car just because i'm cute. i have to turn my kleenex into something more desirable with which to barter. instead i'm a grown woman with a number of things weighing heavily against her. no job, no money of my own, well, the list is long. on the other hand, i have lots of great things going for me but the logistical deal making is difficult and i have to navigate it carefully.
i do think that i made some progress today, although slow, it's still something. went to see the therapist and took hubs with me. we talked about trying to come up with a "plan" of attack to get one of us out of the house. i need space. no doubt about it. he doesn't want the space. no doubt about it.
so we were at a standstill until today. and although his resistance has been a constant distraction, i'm really proud of the fact that i'm sticking to my guns and continuing to push for this much needed separation (giving myself a big pat on the back). my biggest fear is that we won't do it in enough time to contain the "damage" it is and will do to the kids. i know it will happen one way or the other. the kids will not be happy that our family is splitting but i'm also confident that it's the best thing. i just want to do it as amicably and quickly as possible so we are all on the same page, whether we like it or not. i'm willing to compromise.
i have presented many possible scenarios to mark and all of them have been ill received. then again, i could give him a plan that involved me winning the lottery and supporting his ass and he would still find something wrong with it. but i digress....we have come to some sort of deal today and i have to be happy with it for now. we will be working out a schedule so that each of us spend certain nights away from our house and the kids. when i am the sole parent, mark will stay with his sister. says he will be too lonely having an apartment or other place alone. i can understand and respect that. when mark is the sole parent, i will leave. but that's where it gets complicated. i will likely stay with my parents for a while but long term won't work. they are good people, want what's best for me but i fear that they will try and "interrupt" or become involved with the process. i don't need this to be any more complicated than it is already.
now i have to figure out what's next for me. i need time alone to be myself. not lonely, just alone. rediscover what it's like to be myself, my likes and dislikes, what i want in the long run, map things out for my future, really dissect what is about to happen. i will have to look for a place to live. a small one bedroom apartment, cheap, easy, but all mine. i don't just crave it, i need it.
so with my trusty kleenex in hand, i will do some finagling of my own. i will attempt to make a deal. i will take that tissue and somehow convince mark that it's worth the additional living expenses that will be incurred. that it's a kleenex unlike any other. that this kleenex is equal to my freedom. this could be one hell of a tough deal to sell but if my brother can do it, so can i.
wish me luck.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
the email i will never forget....
this is an email that justin sent me a long time ago. it holds a special place in my heart. it was the first time he told me he loved me and now, well, that's all he says. had to put it here to keep it safe.
Miss you, miss you, miss you...
I feel horrible knowing that you feel horrible.
So, to make you (us) feel better, here are some current thoughts:
When I'm with you the world stops. Time means nothing, except that it seems to move too fast when I'm with you, and too slow when I'm not.
When I touch you I am loving you. When I feel you, you are loving me back.
When I see you I see into you. I see something bright and beautiful. I then understand why moths fly into bright lights, into certain danger.
I have nothing, and I'd risk it all for you. If I had everything, I'd feel the same.
What I mean to say is, I love you.
Love you, love you, love you...
Monday, November 9, 2009
november 9
November 9, 2009 - Monday
 | Current mood:  rockin oh, i love music. all kinds of music, genres, melodies. if i like what i hear, i'll listen. be it black sabbath or bach. blues, rock, bluegrass, punk, metal, instrumental, doesn't matter. i know several people who stick with one thing and that is their calling card. we all know the death metal, punk, country, pop diva, hip hop types. it's their thing. it's on their level and to each his own. but there is an underlying similarity to the music that touches me most. it's the lyrics. the melodic verse that springs forth and connects me to it. granted, the song writer is just that. a writer. and the musician, well, a different creature. without the melody, there is no music. but without the lyrics, there is no true message. but when you put the two together, my god the possibilities of self expression are unfathomable. i am in awe of anyone who is able to do it because lord knows i have my own set of talents but making music is not one of them. i was blasted today by a friend. made fun of for my pseudo-obsession for all things dave grohl. his grohliness, as i fondly refer to this talented piece of man meat, is a fascination of mine. everyone knows it and i find it quite funny when people think it's just some sexual fantasy, celebrity crush. why, people ask me all the time? let's see. i'm sexual attracted to him even though i don't know him. he may be the biggest cock sucker on the planet but for some reason his stringy hair, gruff beard, deep eyes, cheesy smile, humor and strong voice stir something sexual and primal in me. i should preface it by saying that i was never one of those groupie teenage girls with posters of rock stars on my wall. i've never been impressed with someone simply because they could play a few riffs. quite the opposite really. so this is a new thing for me. however, i doubt seriously that i would kick him out of bed for eating crackers.... besides the obvious sex appeal and the rock star persona is an expression. an expression of raw emotion. the use of his entire body, his hands, the piercing screams and the melodic tones all wrapped up in a sweaty package. and done in a way that is entirely related, similar for me. on occasion it's as if the words are taken from me and put into someone who can express it in a way i can't. it's a strange phenomenon really. and it isn't just dave grohl. it's lots of different artist and lots of different music. but i have such a fondness for all things foo right now. not sure why it's right now but this transition in my life has a soundtrack and that soundtrack has a whole bunch of fooness interspersed in it. a respect for the craft, the art, the hard fucking rock, the melodic complexity of what some may hear as simply "rock". and the writing. that's what it's all about for me. of course, the sexy, poetic man behind the guitar with the voice of a giant doesn't hurt either. it also helps me explain my propensity and animal attraction to men with goatees and strong forearms, who use their hands for their craft and who flash deviously cheesy smiles my direction....so i will continue to perform "caraoke", head banging 37 year old mom of two in my suv cruising my yuppie neighborhood. and i will enjoy my little dave grohl fantasy du jour. yummy good grohliness.  |
november 8
November 8, 2009 - Sunday
| Current mood:  awake i literally woke up this morning and there he was. right in my face. now i don’t much care for waking up to someone staring at me, certainly not accompanied by confrontational banter. but god damn, that’s precisely what i got this beautiful sunday morning. “you are running away from me, from this problem” “you just aren’t trying hard enough, not trying as hard as i am” “why are you shutting me out” “do you even love me anymore” “you are giving up everything” “do you realize how much you are hurting everyone around you” “i’m the only person who has ever loved you unconditionally” “are you going to go back to work?” “we can’t afford to live in two places” “didn’t we make these vows to each other” “don’t you think the best thing to do is continue to try” “don’t you want what’s best for our kids” shit, this is the fan. fan, this is the shit. let the slinging begin. that’s a whole bunch to try and answer before my first cup of piping hot columbian. it sounds terrible unapologetic and cold but i’m done. i was done long ago. i don’t feel like defending my position or my feelings. i feel like i’m entitled to the way i feel. might make me a heartless bitch but i'm finished. in fact, i was done before we got married, i just didn’t know it. on the other hand, he’s hanging on by a thread. looking for just a little reassurance, a little glimmer, an explanation. i’m ready to walk the other way and move forward. but this confrontation this morning, it got me thinking. when exactly did that happened for me? when was i “done”? i was surprised by what i found when i looked at our history. what i’ve come to realize is that there was a turning point. a fork in the road so to speak. i didn’t see it then but it’s crystal clear now. i believe it was the day i found out i was pregnant for the first time. we had been dating a little over a year and living together for a few months. the response from him was one that i will never ever forget. he came home from work, i sat him down and the tears came easily. i told him I was pregnant and scared. that I didn’t know how it could have happened given the contraception but i was. he replied with “we can’t have a baby right now. we aren’t even married. you’ll have to have an abortion. we'll make the appointment for you.” he hugged me, told me he loved me but never asked me what I wanted. did i want a baby at the time? hell no, i wasn’t ready. i was 25 but nowhere near ready to have a family. do i regret the decision now? no, resoundingly, no. it was the right thing to do. but did I ever feel like I had a choice? no, i wasn’t given that option. that day something in me died. it died along with that embryo a few weeks later. my sense of self, my purpose, my voice. i couldn’t even whisper that day. i was gone. my spirit crushed. it was then that i realized the harsh reality of this man. that in order to have a life with him, i would have to sacrifice my voice. it was his way or no way. i was no longer fine just the way i was. i had to be something different. i changed. i chose to change. and that is where the wall began to build. steadily over time, it has grown into a monster. a wall made of the strongest materials. impervious. un-scalable. indestructible. no amount of strength or determination can tear it down. there is nothing he can do. and it's sad really. terribly tragic. to think that i built that wall with my own hands. willing to do it. that i made it not to keep him out but to keep myself out. and now i'm ready to hear my own voice again. to see myself. to let myself in. but it have to say goodbye to him first. i'm ready to reclaim what's left on the other side of that wall. |
Sunday, November 8, 2009
november 5
November 5, 2009 - Thursday
| Current mood: thankful head shrinking. therapy. counseling. call it what you will but i'm a big believer and i love it. seeing my head shrinker on a regular basis is a highlight in my week. it hasn’t always been that way. i’ve been through my share of "couches" in my time and this is the only one that is super comfy, feels like home. now if she just served beer it would be perfect! she's truly one of the coolest chicks i have ever known. seriously. she's more of a friend with some really good medical experience in her back pocket. i got lucky finding sue. she’s super laid back, often times kicks off her shoes and sits criss crossed in her chair, doesn’t play silly head games like most therapists...none of that bullshit "so how does that make you feel"... and she says the word fuck when needed. yep, she’s killer. her opinion of my recent decision making means a lot to me for a couple of reasons. first because the woman knows me better than any one individual has ever known me. i can say anything, and i mean anything, to her and there is not even a minuscule of judgment. i have been seeing her for several years now. she is the one person that I clicked with immediately. the woman bares her soul to me on a regular basis, relates easily to me, opens up to me as i open up to her. if you’ve ever been on the couch with a psychologist, you know how hard this is to find. second reason may seem minor but it's important to me. she has met my husband. she knows the history of our marriage. she has seen first hand the cold, unemotional person i live with but she has also seen him hurt, drained and upset about the dissolution. she sees in him the same things i see in him. that emptiness. it’s nice to have someone else tell me that i’m right. that it’s not all in my head. that this marriage isn't going anywhere. what seals the deal with sue is her compassion, her genuine interest in helping you see your potential, who you can be, who you are, where you’ve been and how to keep moving. i remember going into her office with mark in august when he first found out of my infidelity. we sat there, the three of us, talking things out. lots of tears, lots of anger, hurt, resentment but it was that day, on that couch in her office, when i told mark that i didn't think we could be married anymore. i got loads off my chest that day and it was the beginning of opening up all the things i've repressed for so long. but here’s the amazing thing. i left her office, in tears, a wreck, and she called me. she called me just to make sure i was okay but more importantly she called me to say that she was proud. that she was proud of me for making a decision, standing up for myself and telling mark that this marriage wasn't working. she had heard it all before but she never expected me to tell him. not that she didn't think i could do it, but that she didn't know i was ready. today i had my weekly session with her. we talked about the logistical set of issues that are rising to the surface and she was a huge help. helping me sort out in my head the next step, listening as I poured out just how fucking scared I am, reassuring me that things will work out. but the thing she said time and time again was that she was proud of me. she was proud of me for doing what needed to be done, even though it wasn't easy. now that, that is what makes her so different, so special, such a great grounding place for me. today i'm especially thankful for her guidance and her spirit. and i still think it's cool that she doesn't always wear her shoes around the office. i give her mad props for that alone. |
november 4
November 4, 2009 - Wednesday
crossing the line
Current mood: determined
so the last few weeks have been more than a little "unusual" for this little lady. in fact, it's been downright surreal. i won't recap. read the blog. you'll catch on quickly.
however, something that i have been sweeping under the rug is my constant struggle with eating. it is an enormous issue for me and kind of a final frontier that is on my mind. i have been medicating myself with food lately and i'm tired of the nonsense and the additional lbs. that come along with it. i'm ready to tackle this sucker and peel back some of these layers, including the fat ones.
so as i was looking at something the other day, to ground myself in this disease that has taken up so very much of my life, i found something interesting. a test of sorts to see if you are someone "at risk". how you can delineate if you are at risk is still beyond me but here is a checklist for those people who think they might have an eating disorder (classified as bulimia, anorexia or compulsive overeating).
-Avoidance of social situations that emphasis physical appearance.
-Feeling shameful and guilty about your body.
-Looking at others to see how your own body size compares to others.
-Weight determines how good you feel about yourself.
-What you weigh affects your relationships.
-Pinching body parts to measure fatness.
-Checking your reflection in glass windows to see how your body looks.
-Having special clothes used to make sure your body is certain size.
-Having clothes that do not fit to entice yourself to lose weight.
-Touching underneath the chin to check for a "double chin."
-Checking the diameter of the wrist for size maintenance.
-Asking others about weight to compare your own weight to others.
-Asking others about clothing size to compare your own clothing size to others.
-Attempting to elicit comments from others about how fat you are.
-Embarrassment about body weight.
-Checking to see how close thighs are together when standing up.
-Checking for cellulite in thighs.
-Sucking in your stomach in front of a mirror to see what it looks like.
-Preferring to only wear baggy clothes.
-Pinching of cheeks to measure fatness.
-Difficulty undressing in front of spouse or other loved ones.
-Comparing own body to people on television, movies and magazines.
-Checking to see if body parts jiggle.
-Checking to see if you can feel your bones.
-Weighing yourself multiple times.
-Fear of weighing oneself.
-Making negative comments about your body to others.
-Difficulty taking compliments from others about the way you look.
granted, some of these symptoms are just downright eating disorder related. but what i thought most interesting is that the majority of women that i know have half of the mindsets listed here, if not more. seriously. we, as women in our society, are so obsessed with physical appearance, specifically in relation to weight, size, ratio. i am guilty of practically everything on this list including some of the more ridiculous such as measuring my wrist. i remember being 92lbs. and still double checking, triple checking just to make sure that i wasn't getting fat. the size of my wrist, seriously? now that is body dysmorphic disorder at it's finest.
and i'm not saying that i don't have a more severe issue with my body and with food than everyday folks. it has plagued me all of my adult life and even as far back as elementary school age. but still. there are far too many similarities in having this "disease" and just being someone concerned with their "weight". the line is very faint and an incredibly dangerous one to cross.
so instead of going on a diet just to have an equal and opposite binge (never works), or restricting myself to honey nut cheerios and coffee (never works), or starving and then binging simply to make myself vomit (never works and is super disgusting), i'm doing the best i can to be practical. easier said than done but it's a simple formula really. eat when i'm hungry. eat things that will nurture my body and give me the fuel i need. exercise regularly. stop letting my emotional well being dictate how and what i eat. listen to my body and do what it needs. just get back to basics.
i feel like i crossed that eating disorder line long, long ago. what i got when i crossed over has been nothing but pain and unhappiness with myself, disappointment, anger, hate of my own body, the very body that gives me life. so let's see if i can back that line up just a bit and get back behind it. even if it's just one toe on the other side of the line, i'll take it because it sure looks like a nice place to be.
crossing the line
Current mood: determined
so the last few weeks have been more than a little "unusual" for this little lady. in fact, it's been downright surreal. i won't recap. read the blog. you'll catch on quickly.
however, something that i have been sweeping under the rug is my constant struggle with eating. it is an enormous issue for me and kind of a final frontier that is on my mind. i have been medicating myself with food lately and i'm tired of the nonsense and the additional lbs. that come along with it. i'm ready to tackle this sucker and peel back some of these layers, including the fat ones.
so as i was looking at something the other day, to ground myself in this disease that has taken up so very much of my life, i found something interesting. a test of sorts to see if you are someone "at risk". how you can delineate if you are at risk is still beyond me but here is a checklist for those people who think they might have an eating disorder (classified as bulimia, anorexia or compulsive overeating).
-Avoidance of social situations that emphasis physical appearance.
-Feeling shameful and guilty about your body.
-Looking at others to see how your own body size compares to others.
-Weight determines how good you feel about yourself.
-What you weigh affects your relationships.
-Pinching body parts to measure fatness.
-Checking your reflection in glass windows to see how your body looks.
-Having special clothes used to make sure your body is certain size.
-Having clothes that do not fit to entice yourself to lose weight.
-Touching underneath the chin to check for a "double chin."
-Checking the diameter of the wrist for size maintenance.
-Asking others about weight to compare your own weight to others.
-Asking others about clothing size to compare your own clothing size to others.
-Attempting to elicit comments from others about how fat you are.
-Embarrassment about body weight.
-Checking to see how close thighs are together when standing up.
-Checking for cellulite in thighs.
-Sucking in your stomach in front of a mirror to see what it looks like.
-Preferring to only wear baggy clothes.
-Pinching of cheeks to measure fatness.
-Difficulty undressing in front of spouse or other loved ones.
-Comparing own body to people on television, movies and magazines.
-Checking to see if body parts jiggle.
-Checking to see if you can feel your bones.
-Weighing yourself multiple times.
-Fear of weighing oneself.
-Making negative comments about your body to others.
-Difficulty taking compliments from others about the way you look.
granted, some of these symptoms are just downright eating disorder related. but what i thought most interesting is that the majority of women that i know have half of the mindsets listed here, if not more. seriously. we, as women in our society, are so obsessed with physical appearance, specifically in relation to weight, size, ratio. i am guilty of practically everything on this list including some of the more ridiculous such as measuring my wrist. i remember being 92lbs. and still double checking, triple checking just to make sure that i wasn't getting fat. the size of my wrist, seriously? now that is body dysmorphic disorder at it's finest.
and i'm not saying that i don't have a more severe issue with my body and with food than everyday folks. it has plagued me all of my adult life and even as far back as elementary school age. but still. there are far too many similarities in having this "disease" and just being someone concerned with their "weight". the line is very faint and an incredibly dangerous one to cross.
so instead of going on a diet just to have an equal and opposite binge (never works), or restricting myself to honey nut cheerios and coffee (never works), or starving and then binging simply to make myself vomit (never works and is super disgusting), i'm doing the best i can to be practical. easier said than done but it's a simple formula really. eat when i'm hungry. eat things that will nurture my body and give me the fuel i need. exercise regularly. stop letting my emotional well being dictate how and what i eat. listen to my body and do what it needs. just get back to basics.
i feel like i crossed that eating disorder line long, long ago. what i got when i crossed over has been nothing but pain and unhappiness with myself, disappointment, anger, hate of my own body, the very body that gives me life. so let's see if i can back that line up just a bit and get back behind it. even if it's just one toe on the other side of the line, i'll take it because it sure looks like a nice place to be.
november 2
November 2, 2009 - Monday
| Current mood:  bitchy i'm pissed. doesn't happen often but today i'm just being a serious hot head. i am annoyed, frustrated, angry, rotten, sad, disenchanted and altogether fucking pissed! i never cease to be amazed at the brazen acts that some people find acceptable. i won't go into detail. it isn't worth mine or your time. but i don't ask much from people in my life. i don't expect much. however, there are certainly a few things that i will not tolerate. shall we? oh, i think we shall..... i will NOT tolerate dishonest, disloyal, evasive, emotionless, uncommunicative, passive aggressive pricks! there. that about covers it but i'm sure there are other things that i won't tolerate. just can't think of anything else at the moment. oh i know. people who chew with their mouths open or talk with food in their mouth. and i demand please and thank you. there. i can move on. so essentially i ask that people i love, value as friends will continue to communicate with me, don't hide things from me and open themselves. good or bad, i want to hear it. i have to hear it. i'm owed that much. granted, i realize i am an entirely different animal. i am willing, often too willing, to open myself to people, trusting and some may say naive. however, i think of it as an experience. if you don't open yourself up and be honest and upfront initially, well then, you probably won't be living your life. make sense? probably not but to me i have to be "present" in my life to be able to learn from it. otherwise, it's just a collasal fucking waste of time. i've wasted enough time already. because of it i have gotten hurt and will continue to get hurt but i would rather feel that pain than feel nothing at all. in the spirit of my recent house cleaning of life, i will not put up with this bullshit anymore. i'm done with it. and instead of doing my usual turn the other cheek temperament, of which i'm generally a big believer, i'm in an incredibly aggressive, protective mood. i don't like to burn bridges or make false assumptions. i take my time and cool off before busting some serious balls. not today. i'm tired of being a fucking doormat. it's my own fault and there isn't a single person who can stand up for me but yours truly. so guess what? i'm opening up that big ole can of whoop ass, gonna fuck somebody up and i don't give a shit. i seriously don't give a shit if my nearest and dearest read this, think i'm being an insane bitch and are offended by my aggressive nature today. because you know what....i am aggressive today, i am a bit of a psycho bitch today and god dammit, mother fuckers, i'm ready for the fight. **this is all figurative by the way and i'm not a physically violent person. i detest the very idea of such a thing** All My Life Foo Fighters | MySpace Music Videos |
november 1
November 1, 2009 - Sunday
| Current mood: impervious life has a funny way of clearing things out of the way, cleaning house so to speak. in the same way that we take it upon ourselves to do spring cleaning, repaint that bedroom that has never been just the right color (i'm still working on that one) or simply deciding to kick a habit, lose weight, change it up. whatever it is, you clear it away. toss it out and move on. well, i think that life works that way on it's own. because no matter how hard we try and hold onto relics, everyday life has a funny way of clearing the clutter. getting rid of the things that hold us back. what makes me think of it is this strange phenomenon that seems to be going on with me. i become bogged down, worried about the future, and rightfully so. hell, i'm about to give up on my marriage and break up my family. and whether it's the right thing or not remains to be seen. there are no guarantees. it's fucking scary. anyway, i tend to get a little overwhelmed with the decision making going on around here. there are times where i feel like i can't trust myself, that it would be easier to turn around and go back to the bottom of the bag of cheetos and drown myself there. then something incredible happens. he steps in. he doesn't have to say a word. but when he does, it's always the right thing to say. and then it all just fades away. the tension, the anger, the hurt, the fear. i feel safe, warm, i laugh a bunch. and i do love to laugh. because when he looks at me he doesn't just see me. he sees right down into me. and it's incredible really. he makes me see myself. i forgot she was in there. he pulls something up in me, lights it and happily watches what most would consider a blinding flash. but he doesn't look away. he just soaks it up. he's more than a lover. he's a friend...who just happens to be very well versed at the art of seduction. and life is certainly doing some cleaning up around here. the cobwebs are slowly being brushed away. it's incredibly uncomfortable and at times, especially in the last few weeks, it has been debilitating. the pain has stopped me dead in my tracks. these cobwebs, these relics i hold onto have served their purpose. life has decided that i don't need them anymore. they don't need to be replaced. they simply need to be cleaned up to make room for me. i just happen to be lucky enough to have rough hands on the small of my back, whispers telling me of his love and the sweet smell of diesel fumes to make the journey even better. hot damn, i like how life has decided to remodel. |
october 28
October 28, 2009 - Wednesday
Current mood: calm there aren't many reasons for me to be at peace right now. in fact, there aren't any blatantly apparent reasons if you look at my life from a bystanders perspective. even from the inside it's looking pretty fucking shitty right now. reality...i am leaving my marriage, posed with the questions that no one ever knows how to answer. cost of living, going back to work, splitting up the household, am i going to regret this decision, how do we make this as "normal" as possible for our children, who leaves, who stays, spousal support, child support, health insurance. hell, even the cost of filling up the car with gas has me questioning how in the world all of this will work. the red tape involved is ten fold. it would be easier, MUCH easier for me to throw in the towel and stay. continue to play the role. after all, i'm pretty fucking good at it. i've been doing it all my life so slipping back into character wouldn't be hard for me. it would be the easiest possible scenario. act like everything is fine and continue to not feel anything. i could continue to numb myself with food, rebuild this brick wall i have painstakingly built around myself and go back to a life that isn't my own. it crosses my mind several times a day. i tell myself that this is insane, i should just stay, make it all go away. click my heels and go back to kansas. every goddamn day i think about the options. just stay and suck it the fuck up. yet the same thing happens each time. despite all of these "negatives", the unanswered and unanswerable questions, i still feel the need to follow through. is it going to be easy...no. is it going to turn my world and everyone's around me upside down....absolutely. are there going to be days where i questions myself....yeppers. is this going to move along quickly....not a chance. the repercussions are deep and lasting. the reality is sobering. i am sober. this, the questioning, the uncertainty, being discouraged, feeling that this problem is too big to solve. it's all reason to run the other direction, right back to the familiarity. but i feel more like myself than i have in my entire life. i'm scared shitless but i'm not running from the fear. i'm facing it head on. in fact, you could say that i'm running straight into the fire. so instead of questioning my decisions, i am answering. i am calm in my own presence. i am willing to do what it takes to put this to rest. i will no longer sit on the side and watch my life pass me. even if that means sustaining some burns along the way. just hope that my nursemaid is ready and waiting with the gauze and ointment. have a feeling i'm going to need it! |
october 27
October 27, 2009 - Tuesday
| Current mood:  intense yep. feeling like an oyster. just can't wait for the damn pearl. i was reminded of something a friend sent to me not too long ago. when i received it, i thought it was pretty cliche, corny, didn't give it much merit. it certainly holds more truth than i first gave it credit. today, i am reminding myself that good will come from what is happening now. that good, it always does. and that tomorrow is just that, tomorrow. makes it a little more tolerable. "A pearl is a beautiful thing that is produced by an injured life. It is the tear that results from the injury of the oyster. The treasure of our being in this world is also produced by an injured life. If we had not been wounded, if we had not been injured, then we will not produce the pearl." Stephan Hoeller  hydrangea in bloom - taken last week |
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