I want to have a tantrum

I hate to whine some more, but i'm going to do it anyway.


I don't want to do this anymore.  I am tired of being strong and making it through the day.  I want to lie on the floor and pound my fists and kick my feet and scream.  But of course, that will not change anything, other than to give me sore fists and feet and scare the cat.

I've lost my capacity for spending long periods of time alone.  It makes me anxious because it feels like maybe it will never end.  I wonder if i will get used to it eventually.  I hope so.  I find myself scrambling to find things to do with people.  It's not in my nature to call people up, but i am doing it.  I'm kind of proud of myself for that.

So instead of having a tantrum, i went hiking today with a friend.  We even went swimming in the mountain lake that was the hiking destination, much to the astonishment of our fellow hikers.

Now it is August

If i don't let anyone know how afraid i am, will that make it less true?


My start up friend, Cari, who i mentioned a few weeks ago when we went hiking, was diagnosed with cancer a few days after our hike. For the second time.  She has already started chemo and will be losing all her hair, again.  She's scared too.


Life moves on, without regard to our individual trials.


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


I just assisted Em in moving into an apartment for her senior year of college.  Can you imagine?  Now i am in a cheap hotel room (there is no other kind in this tiny town) watching re-runs on TV while i wait to fly home tomorrow.  It's both lonely and kind of nice.  I won't see her again until Thanksgiving.

I filed for divorce today.  Four months after he walked out the door.

I don't know what else to say. I'm having a bit of a weep over it.

Why did i have to do it, instead of him? you might ask.


Well, who knows when he would have gotten around to it.  I feel like i'm living in limbo, not knowing what he will do.  Not knowing if i'll have to fight with him or if he will do what he said he would.  I don't trust him.  Odd that. Not.


So i did it for me, so i can get started on this process so that it will end sooner rather than later.  But it sure is sad.  Tears seem appropriate.

i have red fingers

In all this world is there much better than a purloined evening raspberry, plucked from the vine and eaten while it still holds the day's warmth?

I think not.

Hit and Miss

I don't miss walking on egg shells.
I don't miss being taken as critical when i was not.
I don't miss the competition.
I don't miss the criticism.

I miss having a hand to hold at the movies.
I miss sex.  (Yes, i could probably arranged to get laid, but that's not my style, at least until i get a lot more desperate.  :))

Something i have been hearing from many people lately is that i am too hard on myself.  Okay, i see that that's true, but i wonder, who among us ISN'T hard on themselves?  I mean, aren't most people?  Are you?  It's a behavior with some usefulness, in moderation.  I mean, shouldn't we examine our behavior with a critical eye from time to time?  Maybe i just need to learn that moderation part.

Em was just visiting here for the weekend.  It was so relaxing not to have to feel like i was between her and her dad, because he was jealous of Em and me being close.  We had a great time and did some things and spent some time doing nothing together too. 

Here's a picture for you to look at.  Isn't he cute?  It's a sea lion.

Bitter Pill

I went for a wee hike with a "start-up" friend yesterday.  It was a lovely day.  When we started out, i was anxious.  For no specific reason, my anxiety has a life of its own.  But gradually the day and the hiking and the outdoors calmed me.


This woman, i'll call her Cari, is two years into being separated from her husband, because of his alcoholism, and she is going through the divorce process, with all the attendant difficulty of dividing up the money and the stuff.

Another friend told me to be careful who i spend time with.  Cari is very bitter, and will talk frequently about how awful her husband is.  I listen, not responding in kind, and then she will wear herself out and move on to other topics.

I was chatting with Em later in the evening, telling her about Cari and her bitterness.  I told Em that i don't want to be bitter.  She said that it would be okay if i was a LITTLE bitter.   So what i hope, is that i will be a little bitter for a while, and then stop.  Bitter isn't pretty, but neither are lying, cheating and divorce.

***************************************************
A memory that came to me unbidden a few days ago.

When i was 13, i had a much anticipated trip coming up where i would be spending the whole summer with another family far away in California.  A family where people laughed and listened to one another.  We would be going on a long car trip and backpacking and visiting with people.

As a countdown to leaving, i got a jar and gathered pebbles so that each morning i would throw one pebble away, and the last pebble would be thrown away on the day i left home. A ritual.

Wallowing

I am wallowing tonight.  All that's missing is the pint of Ben and Jerry's ice cream, a chocolate bar and a box of tissues and i would be a rom-com cliche.

Remember when i used to be funny?


The amount of sadness feels like it will never all come out of me, there's just too much of it. 

Shit you guys, i don't want to do this anymore.  I want it to be done, and forgotten.

On the good side, it's a normal sadness, not the debilitating depression kind of sadness.  What is not sad about 30 years of a relationship ending with a "settlement" deal?  



Yeah, i don't know either.


I hired a lawyer today.  And that statement makes me want to rip my eyes out and howl at the moon.


Will the lols never end?

Dark Hole

Hey there.


I fell into a dark hole when i got home from my trip.  It was really scary.  I had trouble getting out of bed each day and doing most anything was out of the question.  Did a lot of crying and panicking, and had no energy.


Can you say "depression" kids?


Yeah, that was me.  I moved over to my brother's house for two weeks and they fed me and made sure i got up every day.  Not a pretty picture.

But thanks to the meds finally kicking in, I came home three nights ago, and while i am still up and down, i am functioning and am able to move through my day.


Trying to figure out what to do with the rest of my life.  I hope i can enjoy the journey as well as the end result.  But lots of shit to wade through first.  Meeting with lawyers and trying to pick one.  Dealing with the Soon-Ex who is much to busy and important to pick a lawyer and divorce his wife.

Trying not to become bitter, but you can't tell from that last sentence.  I guess a better goal might be to try and not REMAIN bitter.

My friends and Em remain the awesomest.  (Shut up blogger, is TOO a word.)

A bit of nature

An albatross on his/her egg.

 Blue-footed Booby.

 Pretty Crab.

 Handsome fellow.

 Iguanas snuggling.

 The pelting spray of the sea.

See the sea lion patiently waiting for the man to finish fileting the fish?

It's not pretty

I have chosen now to completely fall apart. I guess i was holding it together for my trip, and now that it's over i'm just a fucking mess.

I feel just terrible about this because Em is actually staying with me right now, and i want to be super woman.


But i'm not.


I was supposed to drive Em down into Oregon by myself this Saturday, to drop her off for her summer internship, and then drive 6 hours back by myself on Monday.


I didn't realize that this was not a good idea in my condition (sleep deprived, not eating enough, panic attacks, etc.) until today, when i was sobbing about whether or not i could make it to my therapist.


So, in a panic, urged on by my therapist, i called my brother and sobbed (again) and asked for his help.  

He agreed to come with me.  Best brother ever.


It good to have people who love me.

Back

I really don't know how to tell you about my trip.

It was both incredibly amazing and incredibly difficult.  Sometimes i would say to myself, "I just can't do this." because of the panic.  But then i did do it.

I just got home a few hours ago, and to Em's discomfiture, the minute i walked through the door, i collapsed on the floor and sobbed for 20 minutes. 

My friend i went with is awesome.  A few times i just lost it, and she just handed me the the tissues and patted my back until i cried it out.  

Damn this sucks, and i wish it would get better faster.

Maybe i'll post some pictures later and you can see some of the great wildlife.

Adios por un momento

I am heading off tomorrow morning for what should be a great trip, planned last September with my friend Kim.

Two nights in Chicago.  Then off to Ecuador and the Galapagos and then Machu Picchu.  Won't be home until the end of May.

I wish my mental circumstances were better, but i am still glad to be going.  I'm sick of looking at my sad face around here, that's for damned sure.

The only thing is that Em is coming home from college two days after i leave.  Oh well, bad timing.  She'll do well here by herself, but my inner mommy can't help fussing a bit.

I left her a tiny little welcome home present in her room.  Can't tell you what it is yet, but when you do see it, you'll all be a little jealous.

Internet access may be spotty, except on the boat.  (What a world!)

Your words have meant a lot to me.  I go back and re-read your comments when i need some comfort.


Take good care of my baby girl while i'm gone y'all.

Old

This is getting old, even to me, especially to me, but i can do nothing but tell the truth.  

I am surviving.  I am getting through each day as best i can.  Yesterday, i picked my brother up at his work, and we went over to his house for dinner.  I had to have him drive as i sobbed bitterly the whole way.  I think i allowed myself to do that with him as i KNOW he loves me, and i could finally let loose after a day of going through the motions.


I know the man who left was not such a prize in many ways, it's not even about that. it's just that i miss having someone to share my life with, someone who asks how my day was and listens to the answer.


And there's all the new things, setting up a new e-mail account, figuring out how to back up my laptop, trying to get the Roku thing to work using one of the three fucking remote control thingies we have for the fucking tv.  Replacing cartridges in the printer and going online to order new ones.  Do you know how many god damned printers there are in this world?

There's no one to multi-task that shit with.  The collective memories that i used him as RAM for are gone.  If i forget it, it's gone.

Proudly helping Em work stuff out for her summer gig.  She did most of the work and i provided practical life experience and  encouragement.  Look what we can do together, with no help.  It's inspiring.

Went hiking today with a friend.  That was good.  But now here i am on a Saturday night, picking at a store-roasted chicken and waiting until it's a respectable time to go to bed.


That's the god damned truth of it.

I feel like i need to do an update, but this is such a slow process that i don't see any change.  Maybe i spent a few minutes less panicking yesterday than the day before.  But this morning started out in a panic, as does almost every morning.

I am away from home, visiting with friends from another part of the country.  It's warm here.  I like that.  Been doing a lot of walking and talking.   And some listening, as friendship involves both.  Friends are the best, by the way.

I still can't make sense of it all, and everything reminds me of him.  This sweatshirt i'm wearing we bought together at REI.  These shorts we purchased in Hawaii and we both got an identical pair.  This t-shirt i have on made him laugh.


I am reaching less often for my empty ring finger, but it's still a shock when i do.

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.