Eaten Up

ICU, a photo by tielji on Flickr.

I am a jealous person by nature. And I came by it honestly.

My mother is jealous of time spent with others (her own words), and it is her clarity on the issue that allows me to understand where my own thoughts torment me.

I am jealous of others' affection. I crave the status of favorite in everyone's heart - no matter the position. Favorite friend, favorite daughter, favorite parent, favorite student, favorite woman in bf's life, favorite employee, ad nauseum. I crave this status as favorite even when I don't deserve it. And even when it wouldn't make sense.

Over time, I have learned to control how I act on these feelings - I am fairly good at using logic to diffuse my bratty, fit-throwing two year old before I cause too much damage.

However, every once in awhile, that poisonous green fog envelops me in a way that I get disoriented. Especially when it comes to my kids.

I want for my children to have the healthiest relationship possible with both of their parents. I still believe that their dad is a fantastic father, and I also feel that we have both chosen romantic partners that care about our children.

But I want to be their FAVORITE.

It is Finished...

...and besides the excruciating pain that shot through my heart when my ex-husband erroneously stated our date of marriage, and also my middle son's birthday - it was just fine! Fifteen minutes. In and out. Here you are married, and now you aren't! Slick, ah?

The director of my department went with me. She ordered me to find someone to go with me (Yes! Like homework!) and then when I could not round anyone up, she canceled a four hour department seminar so that she herself could go sit in an empty courtroom with Jerry and I and his lawyer and the judge for 15 minutes. And she cried.
And cried.
And sniffled.
It was very sweet.

Sweet but scary because...

When will I cry?

Will I?

Am I dead inside now? Or is there nothing to cry about?

Not that I want to cry. I just want to have assurance that my current emotions are genuine.

My current emotions are... happyrelievedfreeexhiliratedsadlonelyangryecstaticcurious.

...Yeah. :)

Better Left Behind Closed Doors

I am a mess. A freakin' mess.

Friday I will sign papers that end the last 22 years of my life.

I will be a single mother of three children. One of them a teenager.

I have had to start worrying about utilities and credit card bills instead of road trips and drink money. The kind of worry that makes you vomit when you think about amounts due and due dates. Makes me feel like I have wasted the past two decades only to start again at less than ground zero.

WTF?!

Want to know what is the worst part of all of this? Watching my youngest child disintegrate into a rageful puddle of violence and irrational behavior. Right now he is sobbing in his bed because he lost at UNO and I wouldn't let him trounce his older brother into oblivion for winning. He is so angry and thinks the world is against him...I don't want this for my baby.

I didn't want this for any of my children. I want them to be able to to experience normal emotional growth, and deal with normal childhood worries. Not this all pervasive fear and anger.

This is why I don't believe in divorce.

I don't think I believe in marriage now, either.

Sorry, Mom. I will be drinking myself to sleep tonight.

...how proud you must be.

Last Call - and other Bothersome Phrases

(the last enjoyable day of terri and Jerry - and of Nela and Howie too, come to think of it. Hmmm.)

So, the union between T & J has almost wound down to it's final death throes. Please read no disrespect when I say that I always thought this process would kill me, and yet I have found that my experience has been one of the opposite - it has brought me back to life. I hope it has done the same for him. He deserves good things, too.

I have found that almost every one of my core relationships has changed based on my marital status, though. And that really bothers me. It originated with my MOM of all people when I was out in NH this summer. (I know that I haven't written about that particular experience- but someday I will. It is still too hurtful right now to put into actual words...I can't even talk to HER about it. Actually, I can't even talk to HER. I want to. But I can't. I will though.) My dad was next...but he is getting better. Even my old neighbors have no idea what to say to me, and I end up comforting THEM and telling them that everything will be okay! Friends that we have had all along are just so awkward in expressing their emotions...some won't even attempt to speak to either one of us.

I hope I will never do that to a friend. Especially during a process as extremely important as divorce.

On a different and much more interesting note: I am dating. I know I will be tsked and should not even broach this subject for another 11 days. But I can't help it. I am so intrigued by why anyone would ever NOT just date for the rest of their lives! (Security and finances aside, of course.) The one discussion that I am dreading and never thought I would have with anyone? Birth control. Oh my holy hell...how do we expect teenagers to arrange for such things when I, a 37 year old worldly woman, am breaking out in hives just THINKING about having a talk regarding methods, beliefs, STD's, etc...?? Criminy.

And yet - it must be done. When the time is right, of course. In 11 days. Or so.
:)t

Yes, I am home on Saturday Night. (Wanna make something of it?)

I am settled in...dishes are washed and put in the cabinet, carpets are steam cleaned, and the dressers are full of clean clothes. I will get to have the children every other week - starting tomorrow.

I am a bit nervous about this...their routines will be much different. We will need to get up at different times, and take alternate routes to get everyone to school and work on time. Also, I know that my ability to keep a normal schedule is going to be under scrutiny - and I resent that.

I must say, for the most part, Jerry and I have been able to keep it friendly. We have had to attend many functions together, and it has gone well. However - just when I think we could be close friends - he will do something that just makes me despise him all over again. I think god allows him to do that so that I won't forget why this divorce is okay with me.

I love my new house...I don't like the lack of money. It will take a bit to stabilize and change over the different bills to respective names. Until that happens, I will not be living large. I won't even be living medium size. In fact, the two weeks the children are not here I expect to be eating hospital food for every meal. Or Kenny's food. Whatever. Discounted/Free Food is what I am referring to.

I took the camera for a walk today. It was our first date together since it came home. I was so happy on the way back that a couple of stray tears of gratefullness rolled down my face. Those moments are the ones I try to write on my heart.

I do seem to have more good moments like that than bad ones. But the bad moments are very intense. Very black. Very lonely. Very hopeless. I understand these get less and less as time goes by...and I know that I don't want to skip any steps in healing. I will not come back and repeat any of these lessons. I just won't.

...all in all, things are progressing nicely. For now. That is all I can ask for!

I hope things are good for you as well...
;)t

Honey, I gotsta go...

Today is moving day.

Well...really, it is the beginning of moving days.

This will take awhile.

I have never been happier in my life.


AND- my camera is ready to be picked up.


Who knew that what I thought would be the end of my world is only the beginning?

YAY!

Dear Diary...

I am experiencing the oddest of emotions. I don't mind it...except for... it is so difficult to decipher what is reality and what is just feelings.

One thing do know for sure: my life is about to change drastically. All of the emotional upheaval, whether or not I have chosen to fully delve into it and experience it or push it away to deal with at another time, has created some sort of transformation. Had I paid more attention, I would have some sort of idea what I have transformed into!

The overwhelming need to race around, see everyone, be everywhere, don't-miss-a-moment-of-activity has lessened tremendously. I don't feel like I will die if I stand still anymore. But the clean up of the chaos I have wreaked on my world is extensive. I am not talking about this divorce - yes, it is painful, but I think it is so necessary. I shudder to think what state of self destruction I would be in if we were still trying to keep this dead horse running. I am talking about the things and people that I have neglected while running at breakneck speed. So much to clean up. Ugh.


And I am feeling fear again...not sure if that is bad or good. Fear used to rule me. If I had been born in a tribe setting, I would be the one who harassed the local shaman constantly for different incantations or prophecy. Then - something happened, and I no longer felt fear...of any sort. I became bullet proof in my own head. Nothing bad could happen, and I could take any chance I fancied...

...it just occurred to me that what I just described is what 17 year olds feel. Bullet proof...indestructible...like they will live forever. Perhaps I needed to go back to an adolescent state and go through the whole "coming into adulthood" again...this time the right way? Hmmm. Interesting concept. My body even did the whole puberty stint in January. Wow.

And now I am to be separated from my childhood lover, and will have to learn how to have an adult relationship - with another adult. At 37. Just 20 years behind, I am. Ha!

I think my head is going to explode...

Detour

You know, I come here a lot. I have more drafts saved than actual entries it seems...

...so many raw little bits of half baked thoughts. Of hopes that are irrational and rationale that is nothing more than just hope.

And I guess that is okay.

Time for me to make this official - to say it out loud so that the universe hears it and starts to help me put things on a good and correct path:

in 71 days I will be single. I will no longer be Mrs. Jerry. I will be divorced. A single, middle-aged mother of three. I have lost the battle to save this marriage.

And that is okay, too.

Please don't ask me why...but as soon as my brain accepted that this time it is for real, and not just another huge attention seeking stunt complete with traditional emotional manipulation for flavor, my whole chemistry changed.

I don't feel flighty anymore...nor do I feel crazy. I don't feel like I am trying to claw my way out of a box. I do feel hopeful, and much lighter...so much lighter. I have no idea what that says about me. Not as a wife, not as a mother, and certainly not as a person. Have I been fighting all this time to be miserable? Pouring good emotion after bad emotion....like trying to restore a home that needs to be condemned and razed.

I am so proud of him. SO proud. He did would I could never do...and he took my wrath, my emotional violence like a champ. He did not waver. Even now, while everything is even and level and in some ways, a bit sweet - he remains resolute. There are times that I panic and think he will change his mind, because then I will be the one who has to make this happen! But so far, so good.

The thing that hurts the most? I know that I have lost all value to him in the present. But I am devastated that I may have destroyed any value I had to him in the past. I just want to be remembered fondly.

Funny...the things that stand out in my mind as the most important...

...that is me...always focusing on the wrong point. Perhaps I am only distracting myself for self preservation's sake.

Let's get this show on the road.

ofgs...

Why? Why am I selfish? Why am I not a good wife/mommy etc. just because I don't want to die a slow, rotting death in this house? Why am I irresponsible because I want to LIVE? Why am I shortchanging my children when I participate in group activities and enjoy social events? Why am I acting like I am single if I go out for drinks and dancing with my girlfriends?

I get that he doesn't want to go anywhere or do anything and could be perfectly happy sitting in his easy chair drinking beer and watching netflix movies. I even can still love him.

Why? Why don't I get the same allowance?!

I am sick of this.

Mercy Fall...

Oh, man.

I mean - Oh, MY man.

'Twas the strangest thing...MyGuy has been bugging me for the past 18 months to go see my doctor and tell him about all of the changes I have made in my life, and to maybe find out why I have been so erratic and (yes) a little out of control. Obviously, I took that very personally - and not very graciously, either. He went as far as to tape a questionnaire he found in the newspaper on my computer monitor. The large print promised it would help a person know if there was a possibility that they needed to be treated for bipolarism.

Now, everyone I know that has taken the little quiz has scored in the affirmative to requiring the medication being peddled. Needless to say, I was not only mad - I was hurt. I told him it was him making me crazy by drowning me in a life of monotony. I told him he was dying a slow death and killing me with him!

MyGuy apparently took the quiz as well and did not score well on the mental health side.

I just found out a couple of weeks ago that he went to his doctor soon after that - and came home with some medication.

Today he is a changed man - and I mean that in every sense of the word. Was he depressed? Unbelievably so. Did I make that easier with my vagrant lifestyle? No. I am sorry, MyGuy...

Although he will not be a longtermpillpopper, I am so happy that he is taking care of himself. I know that this treatment is just to give him a leg up and I am grateful that he will have that chance. He is happy, attentive, hopeful, balanced, and aware. He is even making future plans again - plans for fun and not failure. The way he is interacting with our children is magical and everything I wanted in a co-parent. The way he is treating me is...amazing. And wonderful. And healing, even.

And oh! The TV? Yeah...it is off. For hours at a time. Public Service will be very confused when they review our account.

Black Hole Sun, Won't You Come

Tonight I got to talk to TWO of my closest friends in the whole d*mn world. I am funny that way - my dearest friends are people who you can not speak with for days/weeks/months and yet pick up exactly where you left off, and not feel guilty for not communicating enough. I can't do the whole "best friend" thing. Can't even call anyone my "best friend" - it makes me feel obligated and I end up hating them. Not something I like about myself, but it is better to recognize the truth rather than try to change to be someone I am not.

You all know Niel - she's my girl. An old soul who teaches me history and compassion for humanity, yet goes to loudsmashingmoshingfreakshows of concerts with me just 'cause she loves me that much. She doesn't even know the music - just goes because I want to. When she calls to tell me about her day or just to get some Mama T Time she has a way of making me feel like ... like I am needed. Fun. Wise. Loved. Important. Like I still exist...even though I have been gone from my Kenny's Staff for over 8 months now. I am a better wife, mother, friend and employee because I have a Niel in my life.

My other friend Kelli started out as my daycare provider when Taylor was a baby. When Taylor began pre-school, we continued our friendship over the phone. I kid you not, I have seen her maybe 10 times in the last 10 years...and still, I need her so. (Sad part is that she lives 12 miles away...count 'em...12, and I never see her.) Hours upon hours have been spent discussing hopes and dreams and frustrations with husbands (J-Man still calls Kelli when things need translation...she speaks his language and can talk him down from the roof, and likewise, I understand her Guy better than she does.) children, careers, religion, money, past lives and all of their victories and shaming moments, personal and social psychology. We truly have an amazing repertoire - nothing is off limits.

Except me being this crazy.

How can she be older than I am and not understand this ...place...that I am in? How can she not feel the pressure, the growling need, the gnawing to LIVE...to keep moving, to make a difference in our lifetime? What are the words I can use to describe the desperation I feel? She tries to make sense of me, but cannot grasp the concept that I feel like everyone around me is fading away in front of the TV or dying, drowning in their apathy towards life - and taking me with them!

I am at a loss for words. Perhaps it is a word choice itself that is causing the inability to find commiseration.

Or perhaps I am crazy in an original, new and undocumented way.

Nah. ;)