More, just more.

I would like to tell you that i am better.  I would like that very much.  I would like to boldly walk away and say, "HA!  Good riddance to you."  But my heart does not work that way.


In reality, i am worse.  More crying, more panic.  I think that the shock has worn off, and that the pain and anger has me more firmly in its grip.

I am too impatient with myself.  If he had died, i would not be saying to myself, "Get over it already!"  And in this case, he killed himself, to me, and then shot me in the heart on his way out.

The pain of that betrayal burns like acid in my heart.


Keeping busy can only help for so long, and then i have to go hide in my car, or somewhere else, and then sob for a long time.

How do people live through this?  Everyone keeps reassuring me that it will get better.  I know they are right, but i don't believe it.  I don't feel it.


And there's no one here to comfort me, and there's nothing they could say if they were here.


He came over last night to get the last of his stuff out of the condo.  I was all prepared to be calm and pleasant, and then, i smelled him.  He smells like her, sandalwood.  It hit me so viscerally that i just choked up and could not even look at him.  I was pathetic, and i am ashamed.  I want to be tough. 


My therapist say that i am strong, but not tough.  How i wish i were.

The Panic

It comes, it goes.

I hate it when it comes.  I feel like my skin cannot hold me inside, and i am going to become a puddle of goo sliding on the the floor and never be able to re-form into me.


And then it goes, eventually, and left behind is low level panic.  It's not a pretty existence.


I know it's soon, less than 4 weeks.  Okay, who am i kidding, exactly 4 weeks tomorrow.  

I miss the relationship desperately.   Waking up in the morning, no ones knows if i am alive or dead.  Reading an article in the paper and thinking, "Hey, HE would like this."  And then, oh.... no one to share it with.


And getting home at night, and no one cares.  No one missed me or asks how was my day and what did i do.


I'm just letting you know what it's like.  If there are any good things, i am struggling to find them.

Oh, there is no pee on the toilets, or the floor.  That's nice.

In which i am an addict

When the going gets tough, the tough do research.

I am going through actual physical withdrawal, according to things i've read.  There are hormones that we produce when we are in a relationship that are as powerful as heroin. And when that relationship is suddenly over, we go through withdrawal.

The symptoms can include:

• pounding heart - yep
• flushed face - yep
• panic attacks - yep
• feelings of doom - yep
• sweaty palms - yep 
• frequent peeing - yep
• dry mouth - yep

and various other unpleasant things, not all of which apply (thank you for THAT).


For some reason it helps me to know this.  I am in withdrawal from the soon-ex.  There is an actual physical reason for these symptoms that i cannot get to go away by sheer force of will.  There is nothing wrong with my willpower.  I am not idealizing him, far from it.  I just have to get through this, cold turkey, so to speak.


I went downtown last night to see a "conversation" with Joyce Carol Oates with 2,500 of my closest friends.  She lost her husband to death a few years ago, and, as she is a prolific writer, she wrote a book about it.  As she was talking about her experiences, they touched very closely upon mine.  It was both timely and disturbing.  But ultimately helpful.
 

A cup of tea after my trip

Just got home from my weekend in Chicago with Em.


Yes, i cried when i saw her, and maybe a few other times, but we had a pretty good time and did some serious talking.  It was good.  She's an awesome person.  I did something right in my life.

My cat missed me,  poor dude.  He's a little desperate for attention.  Luckily a little cat food and some string action and he's entertained.

I'm still very up and down, honestly, mostly down to medium, but i am doing everything i know as aggressively as possible in order to move through this devastation of my former life.

Tonight, as i took the bus home from the airport (lookit me, all independent and shit) i actually got hungry for the first time in three weeks.  I stopped and got myself a burrito.  May not sound like much, but i am determined not to lose any more weight.  (How crazy does that sound?)  I know it's unhealthy and i must take good as good care of myself as a i can.


It was good too.

Not The End, but moving towards it

Saw the Soon-Ex last night in what will be the last time for a while i think.  We finished up the taxes and sent them off, discussed a few details and then i sat at the computer IMing with Em while he took stuff out of the house.

I can tell he feels badly about all this.  As he should.  But it's not my job, nor my inclination to make him feel better.

This is all just so ugly.  Ugly, ugly, ugly.  This is not the way to end a relationship.

Today i feel hollow and shaky.  Which honestly, is how i feel most days.


There's still lots of his stuff here.  I think in a while i will gather it all up and put it in one place.  Books, clothing, personal items.  All the detritus of a life.  Looks pretty pathetic in a pile on a hand cart.

Looking forward..... tomorrow i get on a plane and meet Em in Chicago for a weekend.  I hope i don't burst out crying when i see her.  But if i do, so be it.  Sorry Em. 
 

In all fairness

Because i try, at heart, to be fair, i asked the soon-ex about his living situation, he did not just blurt it out.  I did need his permanent address, and i need to know what i have to deal with.  Now that i know, i think, hope, there will be no more nasty surprises.  I will be prepared for it when i run into them in the 'hood.

And now for something completely different:

Last night i went to a book club.  I know, i know, book clubs are lame, but i am trying to get out of the house and be with people.  And my friend invited me, and i have read the book, so i went.

The book was "The Help" and if you've read it you will know what i mean, and if you haven't,  that's okay too, you don't need to bother.

Very few of the women talked about the actual book, they just talked about their experiences with racism and how horrified and upset they were by them.


There's something REALLY creepy about a bunch of middle-aged white women sitting around talking about racism, like we would know.  

I secretly read my kind!e while most of them talked.  Blah, blah.

The final cruelty

The soon-ex came over tonight, so we could finish up the taxes.  I learned two things.


1.) He's moved in to an apartment with his girlfriend. 

and, 

and this is actually worse,

2.) it's two blocks away from here.



I  can't even feel sad right now.  It has just driven home how little regard he has for me.

I think he's gone completely insane.  I don't know this man.  Although i really do.

An ever so brief respite

One of my gay boyfriends came over and spent last night with me. He brought a fun board game and a fifth of whiskey.

I didn't mess much with the whiskey, but we did have fun playing the board game.

Did you hear that?  Despite my ashen stomach and aching heart, i had fun.  It's a wonderful thing to spend time with people who love me.

Still feeling barely in control of myself today.  I don't really know what to do except to keep on doing the things that i do.  Being at home make me anxious.  Being away from home makes me anxious.  Coming home makes me anxious.  Leaving home makes me anxious.  Mornings make me sad and anxious.  Evenings make me sad and anxious.

What you are privy to here is a person very very close to the edge of losing it pretty much all the time.  But what happens if i lose it?  Then what?  Will it change anything?  Will he come and rescue me?  No, he will not.

Feeling overwhelmingly alone.  Thanks for listening.

Raw Bloody Meat

I tried to go to a book signing thingie at a bookstore in Seattle tonight to support some fellow bloggers made good.

It was for "Let's Panic About Babies" by Alice Bradley and Eden Kennedy.  Eden links to me on her blog, or at least she used to.

They were funny and all that, but i had to leave before i got my damned book signed because i was about to burst in to tears.  Which i did outside the door.  Yeah.  Cool stuff.


Too much talk about babies and pregnancy made me remember when Em was a baby.  And then they mentioned their husbands.

Can this be over yet?

I'll probably never get another chance to meet either of these ladies again.  And they'll just remember the creepy tall woman in the back who left abruptly.  Or actually, i suspect they won't remember me at all. 


I spent some time today trying to figure out how to get more drugs from my doctor.  The times when i get so scared i literally don't know what to do are freaking me out.  I try not to use the drugs, but damn, sometimes i just feel like my insides are gonna burst all over the floor.


Borrowing trouble, but how am i going to face seeing the Soon-Ex and his girlfriend at things like Em's graduation?  The bitterness i feel at that thought is going to make it impossible for me to exist in that space.


Rambling, tired, sad, sick, furious, scared.

Fair warning:  It's going to continue to be a drag around here.

But first, you should know that although i am incapable of responding to your love comments, i am reading them and appreciating them.

Biscotto thinks i should get a fuck buddy.  Not ready yet, but an idea worthy of consideration in a while.
******************************************************


Time.  

Time is passing so slowly.  I think it's the pain, and the fear, and the loneliness.  No, it's the panic.  A primal fear reaction that keeps my heart pounding and my stomach in knots, my legs ready to run, run away from the danger.


But there's no where to run that danger does not follow.


Not rational, i know, but emotion is not rational.  Trying to wrestle my fear with my logic.  Sometimes successful, sometimes not.


Breathe.


I don't know how to stop loving him.  My heart does not know how to unwork that knot.  I know i must.  But it will take time.  Agonizing, slow.


Time.

Everybody sees you're blown apart

I would like to say that it's getting better, but i cannot.  Every time i reach to touch my finger, i get a little shock that my ring is not there.  I never realized that i touched it so often.


People are offering me what they can.  And i am accepting all offers of comfort.  There's no room for pride inside the shattered thing that is my heart.

In case you ever need to comfort someone in a situation like this, here are some examples of what you can offer:

My friend Eileen has come over to spend the night with me, and will be coming back over on Tuesday night.  My brother asked me to come along on his weekly Saturday walk/run with a group of friends.  My sister bought me some (pretty expensive) natural sleeping aids.  My friend Kim gave me the key to her house and has let me spend the night twice, so far.  People have e-mailed, called, IMed, texted.  One of my squash buddies brought me flowers.  Another friend sent me a sweet card.  Another friend is coming over tonight just to spend some time with me.  People leave me comforting comments.  Three people have offered me pot.  (Really!)  Today a friend offered me her leftover sleeping pills.


It's awkward for people.  Nobody really knows what to do for me, in fact, there really isn't anything anyone can do, but i accept each gift knowing that it comes from a place of caring.  (Okay, i haven't accepted the pot.  I don't know if that's a good idea, but i appreciate the thought.)


Last night i went out with one of my gay boyfriends.  He's a therapist.  He told me that i am not usually a leaner, and that it was nice to see me leaning.  He said he was happy and honored to be leaned on.  *sniff*


The one person who i must stop leaning on so much is Em.  She has her own life.  I just get into a panic, and the only way i know to stop it is to contact her.  It's like i need to touch what is left of my family, and i need to do it now.  But for her, this isn't as shattering as it is for me.  She's not here, and so she doesn't see any immediate change in her life, and it wasn't her husband.

I don't even know where he is.  I've been looking after him so long that i don't know how to stop.


I look back and i keep going over and over the lies in my mind.  I try to stop and then there they are again.


I hurt.


Then, brief moments of okay.

You guys, and more shit

Really, you guys are great.  I mean it.  Your comments and support are like little pearls of moisture that i clutch to my chest in the midst of this desert landscape i find myself in.

I am having my friends take turns babysitting me.  Sometimes i am alone here too, and it is scary and makes my heart pound and my bowels loosen.  I can't eat, although i am forcing myself to do a bit of it, because i know i should.


I am still in shock.


My sweet baby girl, who is going through her own shock, is a lifeline for me.  I am trying not to lean too hard on her, but she is really the only one who can partially understand how i feel and what i see.  I hope i am as much comfort to her as she is to me, but i doubt it.

I went to my first therapy appointment yesterday.  (i don't let grass grow under my feet!) It was with the woman half of the couple that The Mister and i used to see as a couple.  (Should i ask for my money back? :)  )


I asked her for a reality check on my knowledge of The Mister, and she agreed with what i know about him.  It helps to have a pair of trained eyes, to know that my observations are not completely cocked up.  It makes no difference to the outcome of this, but it still helps to know that i am not insane.

Hanging on......


love you.

pain/bitterness

I'm looking back over the last few months, and i am seeing the lies.

It is so incredibly painful that i can barely stand it from minute to minute.

I am leaning heavily on my friends and family, and they are coming through like champs.  Thank god for friends.

Lying to someone who trusts you is the act of a coward.  It protects you (The Mister) in the moment, and damages the person (me) who was lied to forever.

Or should i call him the soon-to-be-ex Mister.

I have no fucking idea how i'm going to live through this.

Even though i know i will, eventually.

The oldest story in the world

Well,  It's about to get interesting around here.  Hang on if you like for the bumpy ride.  Or not.

The Mister left me this morning.  He's seeing someone else.

You will be glad to know that i behaved with dignity.  I told him good luck. 

Nothing is worked out, and it's going to be an unholy mess to disentangle our lives after more than 30 years.

I am numb right now.  I am not looking forward to dealing with the pain and the loneliness.  But i realize that i cannot avoid it.

I called my brother right away, and he, being the awesome brother that he is, came over and went to the doctor with me, to get some sleeping aid and some anti-anxiety meds.

I may spend the night at his house, but in all honesty, i don't know what to do with myself right now.

Not funny

Other than The Mister, no one has ever accused me of not having a sense of humor.

We are in Hawaii right now, on vacation.  We were awakened last night at 12:30am with a tsunami warning which, for us, really amounted to nothing more than losing a few hours of sleep, although the people on the 1st and 2nd floors of the resort were evacuated to higher floors. (And amusingly, told to bring their pillows with them.)

I knew this was going to happen, but today, whilst strolling the tacky shops in Lahaina, i saw the inevitable  "I Survived the Maui Tsunami; 3-11-11" t-shirt, less than 12 hours after the waves dribbled into Hawaii, and only a few hours longer after the waves slammed into Japan.

I winced when i saw it.  As Em says, "It's only funny if no one died."

I hope they don't sell any, but i know better.

Sunday Bloody Sunday

I am SO sick of being a female right now.  I never know what's going to happen.  It's like playing Russian Roulette where the gun is my uterus and the target is my underpants.

Oh, and Happy New Year, a little late.

Things are slowly returning to normal after a big upset, about which i cannot tell you.  But the gist is, it's time for me to grow up.  I am having some success with that actually.  But it's interesting how long i clung to a behavior that wasn't really working to make me happy.  Us humans do not like change.

Peace y'all. Miss you.  Really, i do.

Not suitable for F@cebook

There should be a name for the art of conveying contempt in a manner subtle enough to maintain plausible deniability.

Sometimes i sits and thinks...

Me! I signed my cynical self up and took a meditation class a few nights ago.  And i shall return and take a few more.

I'm not sure if it was epic or not.  Actally, that's not true, i am sure that it was not epic. But i am committed to sticking with it for a while and getting out of it that which i can get out of it.

Yeah, there was a bit too much "trying to feel the love and light in my heart" stuff.  I can't really feel the love in my heart behind all the fear.  But maybe that right there tells you that i need to go.

Perhaps it's really just a good excuse to sit still for an hour without the distractions of home.  (I really should put those dishes in the dishwasher and then move the laundry along, you know, that sort of thing.)

I tried doing it the next day at home, but there was a cat who insisted that he must sit on my lap.  I don't think that meditating with a cat on my lap is a bad thing, but it was distracting.

I did come home feeling relaxed.  Which lasted for all of 20 minutes, but it's a start.

Do you have a "Meno's Blog" discount membership card yet?

I get the idea of cross-selling, and i know that people in service industry jobs are required to do it, so i don't mind patiently saying "No thank you." several times during any sales transaction, but it seems to be getting totally out of hand.

I was at Barnes and Noble the other day, buying a birthday card for my dad.  Here's how it went:

Clerk: Will you be saving 10% with your Barnes and Noble member card today?
Me: No.
Clerk: Would you like to get a Barnes and Noble member card today?
Me: No thank you.
Clerk: Do you need a Barnes and Noble gift card to go with this card?
Me: No thank you.
Clerk: So you already have a gift then?
Me: (now i'm annoyed because really, is this any of her fucking business?) No, i don't like my dad enough to buy him a gift.
Clerk: (a little startled) Oh.

And at a restaurant two days ago:

Waitron: Can i get you anything to drink?
The Mister: Yes, a glass of Whatever Brand wine please.
Me: A glass of water please.
Waitron: No wine for you?
Me: No thank you.
Waitron: Are you sure? 
Me: Yes.
Waitron: But it's Happy Hour! The wine is half off.
Me: No thank you, i'd just like some water.
Waitron: (sadly) Okaaaay then, i'll leave the menu here in case you change your mind.
Me: (under my breath to The Mister) I wouldn't change my mind now if this was the last glass of wine on earth.
...a few minutes later, as she was delivering The Mister's wine...
Waitron: Are you ready for a glass of wine yet?
Me: (through clenched teeth) No thank you.

**********************************

Also, to the guy who installed a pair of fake testicles dangling off the trailer hitch of his little Toyota pick up truck; Do you realize that what this says about you to the whole world is "I AM A COMPLETE JERK!" ?

more, or maybe it should be less, boob news.

Here's something that's a screamin' deal; At the hospital, they validate your parking if you are having surgery so that you get TWO DOLLARS OFF in the parking garage.  Makes it all worthwhile i tell you!  We've saved FOUR DOLLARS in the last two weeks.

So i had my second surgery yesterday.  Hopefully that will be the end of this shit.


My boob is incredibly sore.  I am walking around hunched over like a little old lady so as to minimize the natural harmonic waves that accompany walking with boobs.  I even have two sports bras on.  Yes, at the same time.  A little wave action still sneaks in there though. Ouch!


And oh, the hospital stories;

• The condescending nurse that speaks to you as if you were 6.
• The farting people in the recovery room who just had colonoscopies.
• The nurse who keeps trying to get you to get up and get dressed and get the hell out of the recovery room even though you just woke up 5 minutes ago, who finally admits, "It's a factory around here."
• One time they insisted that i had to be wheelchaired out of the hospital, the next time i was allowed to walk out to the horrified gasp of a different nurse who said to my nurse, "You can't just let her WALK out of recovery."  (I turned to The Mister and said, "Let's hurry and get out of here before they make me take a wheelchair.")
• The chatty person in the next bay in the 'induction room' who wants to talk at you about her bladder problems.
• The young girl with mental problems who was screaming when she woke up.  (That was sad.)

All in all i can't really recommend it.