I'm Still Alive!

Here I am. On a Friday night. Eating pizza (not on the diet) and drinking a glass of wine. Two boys (10 years) downstairs - more children coming later – many not my own.

My loan was approved today. I close Monday. I’m cashing money out and paying off bills – special assessment taxes and my attorney. I’ve decided to take my kids away on a long weekend (to some ranch in Michigan with horse back riding and an indoor water park).

I met my mother for lunch today. She told me that I am happier than she has ever seen me. She said I had an “air of freedom” about me that has never been there before. This is true. It’s God. He is working miracles. I can’t NOT go on and on about this, because financially there is no way I should have made it until now. By the grace of God I have been able to take time to pull myself together mentally and emotionally while doing something entirely stupid for a “living”. It’s a God thing, not a Kim thing.

I’ve given up the ghost, all, my first name is Kim. Berly. Kimberly all together.

There are days I am nearly delirious with sheer joy. Today was one of them. I realized last week, while running, that I thought I would die when the ex left. I wanted to die. I did not think I would make it without him. Of course, it being an abusive relationship – he TOLD me I wouldn’t make it without him… Guess what? I did. I have. And I am happier than I have ever been.

Mr. Boyfriend

Mr. Boyfriend broke up with me again. I am ashamed to write this. I giggle while I write it because I know it is immensely ridiculous. However, it is only slightly impairing my mood. I have decided to take it on the chin. I have decided not to compromise. I decided that I would never let anyone put me in a box again – emotionally – and I meant it. True, Mr. Boyfriend and I are friends first, and he has compromised many of his core boundaries for me – but I can’t. I can’t hide or be someone else ever again. I want to know who I am, for Heaven’s sake! I can’t do that in a relationship with someone who is not willing to see me as I am revealed…if that makes any sense?

Maybe it is realizing, as my feet pounded the pavement, that I didn’t die. Literally. It was a “Hey! I didn’t die…Oh, my gosh!! I made it! And I’m happier!!”

I’m not going to die this time, or the next time, or the next time…either. I’ll be all right no matter what. I know this seems bizarre to people…but you need to realize – until I refinanced my car into my own name in December, I had never had a loan in my own name. So many of the things most people take for granted have been firsts for me. I’m like the original housewife, unfortunately. My independence was painful, but has been glorious. And with that…. I’m off.

Reality

He leaves again
His chariot kicks clouds of dust
     From the ground as the whip cracks.

There are no tears
Instead she notices that the trees are budding
She walks the perimeter of the castle grounds
     Hacking at old growth as she goes
          With her sword.
     Wonders if the daisies will bloom this year
     If the roses froze over and should be yanked
          From their home and thrown away
     Something new grown in their stead?

He weathered many seasons with her
But spring was too much
     The confidence of new growth
     Too intimidating
History only important
     In regards to what it could teach
Clinging to it, from her vantage point
     A sure way to only grow
     The same things, every year.

Rejection settles in.
     Relief beside it.
Relief?
Yes, she thinks, relief.
The years are less than kind
     Wrinkles and weight
     The number 40 fast approaching
Who wants to worry so much about looks?
Just let him go, she thinks.
She wants to enjoy the trees and the flowers
     The small children running about
Find some sort of satisfaction in her daily work
Let her head fall
     On a soft pillow at night
Wake to sunshine.
     Good friends and a glass of wine.

Valor

Sunlight filters
Slow and soft and sure
He wonders if I'm ready
Falters
Slow growth can be solid - savored after years of dark
     My heart imprisoned.

(Always in that prison, he visited
     -regardless of his own confinement
Reaching out with joy and hope
Assuring me valor does exist.)

I stretch in the open air, smile, breathe deep
Nibble at the future.
Contemplate the prince, his leaving.
Does he stay or go? I know not.
His destiny, his own.

Friendship at the core, means freedom.
Regardless of locale, gold rings
     (or overheating cars)
Our lives a history entwined, a future free to paint
What will God bring? I trust, his journey, sure.

Doors are firmly closed, shut down, a resounding crack.
Another door, always, always open.
I walk through into sunlight -
Not carried over the threshold, as a damsel
     -helpless and small
But I WALK, with sure feet, knowing his heart is pure
I extend my hand - walk forward with me
(Two souls speak, a language similar. A dialect born of chafing bonds
and inherent rebelliousness.)

Does he walk with me?
I'll not bind his feet, or put out his light
His presence, his freedom, too valuable a thing to shut up in darkness
Nor mine own, so newly released, will he snuff out.
And so we dance.

I know, what I suspect he does not
(years of bindings leave their mark on him, while perhaps my recent freedom gives me sight)
This dance we do, is new.
He compares, contrasts, examines and looks further
(I see no point in this; a pure heart is a pure heart.)
My heart, washed with cleanser free of poison
     Recognizes freedom in his soul
Does not choose to cling but walk beside.
Capable.
Carrying my own sword, to give my life for his.
I will not take without his needs met.

And still he looks, examines and compares
Finds flaws to keep him safe. Logic to protect.
Unknown women, carrying plastic swords,
     which bend and break in battle.
Does he see my sword?
     (Dented and scratched from wars, poorly chosen,
     still metal weathers time.)
Blinded by the flashing of his own, he wanders on,
     while patience feeds my heart.

Life Resumes

Life is moving along. The refinance STILL isn't done, but should be in the next week. Underwriters keep insisting on more and more information.

I made a decision regarding work. I have printed off the application for licensure and am obtaining study materials for the residential appraisal exam. I'll start there. Once the house is refinanced, I will take my last commercial course and finish my training...take the exam. I am an appraiser. It's just the way it is.

It's pathetic, really. I know I would like to teach. I know I would enjoy sales. But people ask me what I do and I still find myself saying I am an appraiser. And right now I am not a PRACTICING appraiser. So I am moving forward. The little chicky-poo who walked through my house for my refi is going to be surprised when I call and ask if she is still interested in hiring another appraiser. Or my buddy Phil will be - there's been an ongoing offer there. But I've about had it with the job I'm doing.

It's too demanding for something so dumb. Although, frankly, being in the same stores on a weekly basis has allowed me to feed my addiction to bargain shopping.

1. New area rug for the family room at half price.
2. New set of plastic cups and plates (set of ten) for $16.
3. New art for the bedroom for 1/5 the original price.
4. Large, decorative wooden box for daughter for 1/5 the original cost.
5. New bath towels and rugs and shower curtain and art for two bathrooms - 1/2 off.
6. New dishes for kitchen -40% off.
7 Miscellaneous clothing.
7. Lavender leather coat for 1/5 the usual or $29.

I know this is sad...but this is like a sport for me. A hobby. Spring is rolling around and not only does that mean I get to go play in the mud on a daily basis, but auctions begin in earnest around here. I love auctions. I've even managed to end up with a date or two after an auction. But mostly, I meet interesting people and walk away with junk I don't need. I call this fun. At the same time, tools go pretty cheap - and the ex took all his tools. I like tools. In particular, I like woodworking tools.

Funny, Mr. Boyfriend sells furniture for about 15 thousand different companies and I prefer to build my own. Like the headboard and armoire in my bedroom. What's next? My fireplace needs to be revamped. Redesigned. Until then...I am painting. Kids bedrooms. Everything else...and biding my time until I can go outside and stay there until fall.

I am discovering that I have a very male streak...should I replace the lawn tractor this year? I need a leaf blower...should it be a gas one or an electric one? I have trouble starting my gas weed wacker - maybe I should go with electric (lighter, too)...I don't know. One would think I would really prefer new living room furniture. I would, actually. But it can wait. Maybe I'll get a good deal at an auction! But the lawn tractor...well, it'll come with a warranty, maybe even a service contract. This is what I need.

Ultimately, the decision to go back to appraising is a practical one. What I really want from life is to enjoy my family, have some money to enjoy my home, my family and travel a little, and, well, that's it. Plan for my future. So, I might end up hating it, but I'll be able to support myself and my kids and that is what counts. Right?

And On the Seventh Day...

I have to say, this was a very long week. I just need to state that. I need to put it out there – wow – completelybrunnete had a really, really long week.  

I am emotionally beat. About six weeks ago my children were all gone – I had lots of plans to go out of town, etc.  Instead, I rented movies, went to the grocery store, crawled in bed and didn’t move for two days.

I don’t have the time to do that today, this weekend, but emotionally, I’m at that point. I’m tired. Worn out.

The kids are with their father. The oldest slept at a friends last night. I took Mr. Boyfriend out for dinner.

Let me back it up – I was really tired yesterday. I went running and just didn’t have what it took – I ended up walking more than running. I went to work and had trouble keeping my eyes open.  By the time the evening rolled around, I felt a little better. A shower, a cup of coffee or two. I felt all right.

But not all right enough to have more than one drink. And I did (have more than one drink).

Mr. Boyfriend wanted to dance and I couldn’t. Lead feet. He got mad. I’m really not sure why. I am absolutely positive I will find out.

HOLD THE PHONE

But I’m tired, see. Things seemed to have kind of stabilized with him. I wanted off the roller coaster we seemed to be on.  He made a couple of statements to me about how it’s “always all about me”. And I have to say, it probably is. I know that it is shifting – I’m more conscious of other people, have more to give emotionally on a daily basis (thus the re-emergent mean mom), but no doubt this is true. I’ve been pretty self-centered.

But then, wait. I just can’t be this flawed, can I? That someone would be mad at me this often?

I have been working through my stuff – I was in a long-standing abusive relationship for so long that I HAVE to look at myself. To do this, I have to go backwards, to my father and this is sucky. I’m too old for this, I think. I’m not into laying blame or guilt trips. But I have to look.

So as this goes down with Mr. Boyfriend, I am not flipping out. Instead, I’m asking myself…is it really my fault? And…do we have to do this NOW? I’m too damn tired. That makes me snicker, really. I just know that when, and if, we DO talk about this stuff, it’ll take a while, use up energy I need for something else and waste time that might have been used enjoying each other.

So, my plan is to enjoy being alone. The daughter is off with friends. She has insisted she is going to come home and paint her bedroom, but I’ll wager she’ll find something more social to do before the day is up.

So me? I’m going to clean, organize, get ready for the other daughters party (ice skating rink with 30+ of her closest friends), pick up steaks and a bottle of wine and build a fire around dinner time.  I don’t care if it is only 35 degrees. Hopefully the grill will start, because I am mechanically deficient and I have decided that it is TIME for it to be put to use.

I am sad about Mr. Boyfriend. Not just sad, but disappointed.

But then, on the other hand…I have friends. And I knew I needed down time. It’s a gift.

Incidentally, the whole running thing is attacking the weight deal. Why is it that weight gain starts in the middle of a woman’s body and spreads up and down? The last thing we get from it is a bigger chest. Weight loss? It starts at the head and the toes and works it’s way inward. It’s just the opposite. We lose weight in our faces and our toes and then our chest  - AGAIN – it’s always one of the first things to go. That’s my bitch for the day.  I am much happier with the way my chin looks thanks to running. Or walking. Or whatever it is that I am doing.

Speaking of which…I’m off to do that very thing!!

Synthesis

The little girl dances in her mothers dress
Filmy layers of pink flying and floating as she twirls
Olivia Newton John spinning round and round
Her partner tall and handsome in her imagination.
     The door opens and closes.
Home from a trip, her father walks in
     Deposits his bags, offers a trinket
And walks out – a meeting at city hall.

The twelve year old stands at the kitchen sink
     Sullen and angry.
She objects to the chore.
What she says enflames her father
     A hand reaches out and skin smacks skin
The girl, stubborn, speaks again
     The hand reaches out, over and over
Until bruises appear on each cheekbone.
She is told she is unlovable the way she is.
He cannot love her until she changes.

The young woman steps out of the shower
Today she will visit a doctor and lose a child.
She looks in the mirror, promises herself change.
Haunted by her decision, she is numb.
The boy, he is concerned with himself.
Can they stop at the arcade for an hour afterward?
     So he can de-stress?
Does he know that she is bleeding?
     She is standing there at Pac-man, bleeding
White-faced, sad and tired
     He works through his stress
     And then takes her home.
She is alone. Tell no one, he says.

A week before, the father, he had lifted her by her neck
     Choked her
     Told her without words that he hated her
     Thrown things at her
     Spit at her until she was covered in blood and spittle
     His grandchild witnessing, unknown to him
Trauma, this week, is what she experiences.
Schoolwork? What’s that? Normalcy? What’s that?
Mother closes her eyes as she always has.

A white dress, a quick wedding
Her fault, of course, her father’s fault
If she hadn’t of come from a dysfunctional family
These things would never have occurred
The husband would never be violent – he wasn’t raised that way – she was.
     Her fault.
Her upbringing. Her dysfunction. Her fault.
Her lack of something, her too much of something else.
She is incompetent, fat, nothing compared to what he was
     He might have been perfect if it hadn’t been for her
She was in his way.

She is always in the way.

He leaves, but remains in control.
     She allows it because she cannot survive with out him
He is doing her a favor, by continuing to stay involved with her
     Because he loves her
     Because he knows she cannot make it without him
     She believes him.

One day
The full-grown woman apologizes to the young wife
The young wife apologizes to the young woman
The young woman apologizes to the preteen
The preteen apologizes to the young girl
They stand together.
They throw the monster out.

Now
This woman, these girls, they face the future.
Together.
They examine the daughter and know that the cycle must end
Stop, heal.
Forgive. Pray.
Begin at the beginning and give it up.
Dig deep to the first betrayal
     The first abandonment
     The first feel of violence
     The first time she was told she was unlovable, worthless
Root around in the past, unbury it (it was buried alive)
     Expose it to the Light.

So that they
She,
can look into the future and see happiness.

The Update Is...

I know, I know, I have not been writing in a timely manner. I am sorry. I have been both in hell and busy.

Let me run through the interesting updates:

An appraiser (female) walked through my house and ended up offering me a job. I think I might finish the whole liscencing shebang - on my own - and then look for a job as the housing market heats up. My commercial experience seems to be a draw for all residential appraisal firms (more business), so I should not have difficulty finding a job. Why is this so difficult - this finishing?

Oh, I know. Other stuff...like kids.

The Big Stuff

My oldest child has been a challenge for a while. Abused by her father in many respects, left to raise herself by her mother for a couple of years while mom was in lala land due to same man and lack of spine, she's a tad screwed up.

About a month or so ago, I snapped. I changed. I became mean mom again - the one that makes you eat your vegatables and clean your room and, oh, do your homework. I came out of the coma I had been in for the last couple of years.

Long story short, daughter does not want to acknowledge me as any sort of authority. She is straight - no drugs, alcohal or sex - but more disrespectful that even I was at her age. And her mouth, well, tick her off and she is on par with her father in terms of verbal abuse.

It's my job to get her back on track.

Mr. Boyfriend explained it like this: My ex and I, we poured gasoline on our house, then we lit it on fire. It's our fault. But our kid is inside. We gotta get our kid OUT or die trying. So that is primarily what I have been doing. Trying to get my daughter out.

I laid out rules. Follow these our you will live elsewhere. They aren't hard rules....you will see a shrink, go to church with me, maintain decent grades, have a set bedtime, get up on time for school, be nice and respectful to those in our house and clean up after yourself and do your chores. How hard is this?

Apparently, very. The answer was no. There are other wild things that the kid did. So I called the county about placement in a group home. I found another place for her where she can heal and recover. It sounds horrid, but I have two other children to raise and this deeply effects them. My ten year old son is being traumatized by language and ideas that he should not encounter. I can't pay attention to the other two because the one child is flipping out and not doing what she is supposed to. The list of why's goes on and on.

Bottom line, this is bigger then me. I can't fix her. I can lay out the parameters of how to get better. I can enforce those parameters. I can get her help. But I can't fix her. And I can take responsibility for where she is at up until TODAY, but then it's on her head. If I know I am now doing everything I should, could and would to help her, it becomes HER CHOICE. I know, I know, at 15 that may seem harsh.

Yesterday, I took her to see a home/program in the Twin Cities. I was incredibly impressed with this place and would send her in a heart beat. It's faith based and one of the girls in the program talked with us about her experience. It was incredible. We left and she told me that everyone at that "place" was much too happy. All the girls were smiling and friendly, all the staff said hello.

What, did she think I hated her and that's why I wanted to send her someplace? NO. I love this kid. I want the absolute best for her. Her father and I have not provided that. I will do whatever I have to, to give her what she needs to be happy.

The ultimate agreement is this: She fills out the application for this home (it is strictly voluntary) and signs it. I fax it in, place it in their hands. She is responsible for keeping herself OUT of that place. But I explained to her - how happy those people are? THAT'S WHAT I WANT IN MY HOME. I want peace, happiness, good behavior from all. I won't tolerate abuse from anyone.

I feel good about this. I feel in control. I have a plan. She knows what she has to do. We both know what is expected.

Several times I came to my computer to write about this and found myself unable to do so. I just could not talk about how I was feeling about my household or my children or any of those things. Today, I can.

Other Stuff

The refinancing of my home should go through in the near future. This has taken a while due to the recent divorce and my own procrastination. The appraisal should be done this week and today I will drop of the remaining required documents. Wonder when I'll close? I should be able to pay off things like my attorney, special assessment taxes for curb and gutter, my car loan? Maybe. My next plan is to BUY a new car, believe it or not. Anything will be better than what I am driving. Mr. Boyfriend's teenage daughters cars are nicer than mine. I see a problem with this!!

I keep steadily gaining weight. Another problem. I began running again in the hopes that if this doesn't STOP it, it will at least slow the process down. Actually, I began running because I seem to be developing the belief that the body is a temple, etc.

Oh, dear. A bird just flew into my office window at a high rate of speed. Feathers are stuck to the window. I think I see some blood. When I go out to go running, I shall have to look for a dead bird on the ground. Last year I found three dead birds, total. It's sort of shocking...and annoying. I just realized the only one who'll clean that window is ME!!! Argh!!!

Things are still kosher with Mr. Boyfriend. We've had a couple of touchy spots, I think being open about emotions made both of us a little more vulnerable. But with vulnerability comes intimacy, which is what we were both craving. He's been a tremendous amount of support through this deal with my daughter.

SPRING!! SPRING!!!

And of course, with my nifty weight gain, comes the reassurance that spring is in the air. What do I mean? Fairly soon, I can get off my butt and get it outside in my yard. I can garden and putz and enjoy my porch and my patio and have, maybe some CASH to spend on it. I can do what I want. I am so tickled and cannot wait. I am having trouble deciding where to start!!

Even with the hell with my daughter, life seems to be really looking up. I thought, when the ex left, that if my family fell apart, I would die. I didn't. In fact, I may just thrive. It amazes me. I feel free for the first time since I was a small child.

I'm off to walk/run around the neighborhood, work and hook up with a friend for lunch. Hope you all have/had a great day.

Hey C.F!! Maybe this is my super-happy-fun week? I want one!!!

And no, no spell check. I'm using Mozilla Firefox and for some reason it doesn't work. I have to go. You'll all just have to deal.

A Snowstorm and the Ex

I woke this morning to cancelled school and a beautiful white snowstorm.  A snowstorm?
I DID have appointments for today – are they cancelled? I ask because at five a.m. I awoke, as did my children, to very long, very loud, peels of thunder.

And now there is lots and lots of snow, and one would assume, ice. No school.

I am actually grateful for this. Time with my children is a rare thing. That, and they need to clean their rooms for the appraisal of the house and subsequent refinance.

I have interacted with the ex quite a bit over the last few days – am attempting to pull him into the children’s lives. I do not know what his deal is, but he has been very nice.  A large part of me is waiting for the knife that inevitably ends up in my back. And you know, me, or maybe you don’t…I can’t be anything but blunt.

As I pulled in to the parking lot at the gas station where we exchange children (in between our cities) I see his girlfriend and her ex and THEIR children. Yes, yes. Two families were destroyed by this affair.  At any rate, I pulled into the parking lot fifteen minutes early. The ex was not there yet. My reaction? I started laughing.

“LIVE!! FROM JERRY SPRINGER!!!”

We were once family friends. But only because the ex was screwing the girlfriend and they wanted to spend more time together, so they made us all friends.

Am I bitter? No, not exactly. How do I feel, then?

Let me proceed with my story. I picked up the phone, called the ex, and, still laughing, told him to hurry up and get his but to the gas station - I wanted OUT. Then I told him he surely had a way of creating wacko situations. I was laughing, mind you. He chuckled good naturedly (what else could he do? I’da just laughed harder had he gotten angry).

That was the end of that. Previously this week, I called and talked with him in relation to his children. I told him I was counting on his love for our oldest (who still will not talk to him) to work with me to get her where she needed to be. He told me I could count on his love for ME.

I wanted to reach through the phone and punch him.  I am sure he was simply being “nice”…but the insult is great and he doesn’t even know it. Our experiences in our marriage were very different. I did not cheat or lie or abuse him the way that he did me. So he can glibly say such things to me. He has no idea what love is. And I want to throttle him for being stupid. I just let it go.

THEN, last night, we briefly touched base regarding the kids and he told me that he had REALLY enjoyed talking with me the last few days. Me? All I could do was be dead silent for a moment and then tell him that he was freaking me out, to have a nice couple of weeks and wish him good night.

And he IS freaking me out. Not because I’m secretly LIKING hearing those things, but because I do not trust him at all. I am waiting for him to screw me. What I want from him is to co-parent. I want help with the kids. I want peace. I do not want him. But peace, with this man, is not ever to be trusted. I know that I am fooling myself. It freaks me out.

Mr. Boyfriend is adamant that the ex will eventually want me back again.  I don’t think so. I don’t want him back. I don’t want much from him at all. Money. Him to be a decent father to his children. It would be nice to have a father to talk to regarding my children. But ever love him? Ever climb in bed with him? No. Ick. Seriously ick.

I look backwards at my inner turmoil surrounding divorce and understand it. I get WHY I was so upset about it (another post), finally.  The answer, to how do I feel about him or my divorce? Glad. I feel glad. I feel relief. I am not sorry I am divorced. We never should have married. We were wrong for each other.

Another milestone.

Looking Back Again

I thought that I would post something I wrote several years ago, while contemplating divorce. The difference between then and now is phenomenal.



There has been such small hope.
So little freedom.
Growth stunted. Joy squashed.
File the papers. Take the medicine.
Heal the hurts. Make me whole.

What task is this God laid before me?
What punishment that I deserve?
This invalid guilt I carry,
Dug in deep.
One glimpse of joy,
Gone again in one full day.

Alone, I stand and stumble.
Break the chain.
Fear looms large and black.
Dominance my Achilles heal.
Look hard at thyself.
What smacks of healing
-only one more wound.
Bloody cuts, the bindings cause,
Yet certain expectations know.

Lay the ring gently at your feet?
No. Decree demands I throw golden
    dreams hard against the wood.
Set the fire and send to sea.
Frozen on the shoreline are my feet.
Leaden hands, heavy with the weight
    of precious metal.

A glimpse of dawn, distant, fades,
    blooms again.
Can I drop this anchor free of rope?

Tarnished and ill-fitting though the rings,
I carry both, lest they be lost
   -and shackles fall away.
Leaving me weightless and empty.

Looking Forward and Back at the Same Time

I have been down dark alleys where I nearly lost my mind
     -from black and vile things creeping and reaching and grabbing
I have walked into forever, believing with my whole heart
     -things were pure and good
Finding instead, more blackness and emptiness
     -more evil, where love was supposed to be

God extracted me. I shut the door. I turned away.
I could not handle the blackness, the soul eating corruption
The lack of purity or sacredness for all things good
For God, for honor, for all things worth protecting.
I disassociated myself from these things because to continue
     In conjunction with these horrid things would require me
     To lose myself. To absolutely break completely.  
God took me out, said he had something better for me.

I am healing from those dark alleys, the soul destroying blackness
To argue that would be idiotic
It may take quite a while, the damage was extensive
But I will not be crippled by it, nor will I allow it to harm others continually
I will pull it out and look and heal.

This damage, does not preclude loving you.
I do not actually think there is much that could have
     Stopped that from happening.

I have known you for a long time, many years
Your horse is white, not black
You halo is pure, not dingy or dirty
Your heart is good and large and full of the things I crave and need

I want to walk beside you.
I want to give you the wonderful things you give me.
I want you to know with out a doubt that I love you.
I always have. It has simply grown and changed.
Please take what I have to give, know there is more coming and it is yours.

NOW WHAT?

I’m going to have to cram a whole lot of work in a short period of time today.

I was about to get in the shower and my phone rang. Guess who? Yep. Wanted closure. I say that flip-like because he just broke my heart again. He doesn’t know it. And I ain’t telling him. OK? OK.

Oh, you guessed it. He’s in love with me. Wanted me to know. You know, so I can…live with it? What?

Men.

Basically, he called to tell me that and some other things but to have none of it change anything but whether or not we are angry with each other. He’s going to look at his garbage, he says. Will he? I suppose I look at him with the same level of skepticism he had for me after the Valentines debacle.

And me? I offered to continue our relationship. I’m such an absolute dimwit.

IT RINGS AGAIN

HE JUST DID IT AGAIN! Called to tell me how he feels.

AND IN AN INSTANT SHE’S GONE

He tells me that he’s in love with me and I melt. Absolutely melt. Even my fingers are literally weak. My breath catches in my throat. I want to be crabby and grouchy because I do NOT want to be this vulnerable. He is giving me what I need. Now what????

Work, that’s what. Except I’ll be freaking floating. I am absolutely psychotic.

Love Bites

I went to bed at one and was awake by five. It just isn’t going to go well. Tears in my pillow and all that.

Yikes.

I suppose you are all waiting in suspense, eh? (CF, is that “eh” Canadian for “huh”?)

Update

I met with Mr. Boyfriend last night. We now have closure. Neato, frito. Talk about two people with deep issues trying to fight a losing battle…wow.

He mentioned a 90-day rule he has regarding break-ups. 90 days without dating anyone to allow time to heal and give room and possibility for reconciliation. He wanted me to commit to not dating for 30 days.

While you all know I have no interest in dating anyone else, he hasn’t gotten this particular point. But still this 30-day thing stung my pride. What? He doesn’t want me so I should lock myself in a closet? Old tapes again.  I actually think what he says makes sense. But, shit, look at my posts…what does sense have to do with anything? I’m like a run-on sentence – one big run-on emotion.

OK, I’m going to try to get down to brass tacks. This is difficult because I am exhausted physically and emotionally. I’m going to skip the talking part between he and I – how we got there (lets just say I got really mad and finally picked up the phone…and he answered).

More of the Icky History

There are parts of my marriage I have not talked about here. Soul eating parts. It seriously was SO fucked up. I let my ex mess with my head and my heart and it tore a part my soul. There is no other way to describe it.

I was this man’s wife for 15 years. I stood by him through everything life can throw at a human being and a young couple. I was the mother of his three children. That in itself deserves some level of honor, I think.  What he did is this:

He left. He moved out. But he told me he wanted to get marriage counseling, etc. And so we did. He went into therapy. He lived with his folks. This went on; call me stupid, for two or more years. I filed for divorce three times. All but the last time, he convinced me it wasn’t what he wanted. During this time, he told me that his family, all the people that he worked with, were all against us staying together. That by getting visibly angry when he broke into my home at Christmas time and stole all the decorations, etc., (I made a huge scene – I’d had enough), his family was really upset (he said) and it would be bad for our marriage to involve them. Our family, our marriage became a secret. Even our children (unbeknownst to me) were not allowed to talk to their grandparents about things we did as a family. We went camping, to a water park, etc. etc. Never anything in town, never anything where anyone would see us. Meanwhile, the girlfriend was being introduced to the parents. Mothers Day, Fathers Day, golfing, dinners. I was invisible – his wife, the mother of his children. His parents live eight blocks from me and thought he and I were getting a divorce. This wasn’t difficult, I suppose, given the violence. Isolation is the first mode of manipulation. I was very isolated.

I didn’t understand any of this at first. Later it became apparent and his dishonesty, his manipulation, his dishonor, was too much to handle. I still can’t quite describe it, nor can I comprehend it. I can tell you that I have never felt quite so fractured in my life. He betrayed everything that was important to me. He simply did not care for me. At all.

It Relates Like This

The reason I bring all this up is because of something I said regarding Mr. Boyfriend. I said that our relationship was very segmented. We hang out in a bar and go dancing. We go out to dinner. We do things alone. There is no real sense of couplehood – you know, where others validate it, us, our relationship. And I needed that. It started to feel like a secret relationship. He invited me to go out of town several times with him on work functions – and I know I would have met people that are important to him there, so it wasn’t that he did this intentionally. But nonetheless, this is what occurred. I think that if we had been validated as a couple we might have been able to naturally begin to blend our lives.

I opened up my life to him on many levels. He met my family, my kids, my parents, my friends, people that are important to me. I did not meet many who were important to him. I suspect this is because the last woman wreaked such incredible havoc on his life. But I have realized that I can only pay for her mistakes for so long. I shouldn’t have to pay for them at all, I know. But he was paying for the ex’s stuff, and you know, I thought we had something worth wading through all this garbage for. The flip side of that coin, and this is tough to admit, is that somewhere inside of him, he knew I wasn’t what he wanted. Why open his life up to me if he knows I’m not going to be something he keeps in his life?

Welcome to dating, Kimmy

Other than that moment in September, he never told me he was in love with me. I needed the words. I did. Cause, gosh, hanging on and working through stuff is so much easier when the payoff is love and adoration on both sides. I mean that seriously.

I finally, broke down and told him this last night. I told him that I had needed the words. It would be humiliating if it hadn’t been an exit scene. I have never experienced THIS before (and gee, I’ve experienced quite a bit!). He somehow managed to convey to me that he was in love with me without ever saying it. But still, I need the words. And of course, he felt manipulated, like I was trying to force him into saying the L word. I wasn’t. That’s the whole reason I never said anything before now. No human being wants to have to demand those words from another. But we need them. I won’t demand them. Ever. I’m actually kind of surprised I’m even in this position (I say that with some humor). It’s a weird place to be.  Love is usually something so freely given in my life. I love my kids, I love my parents, I love my friends.

The L Word

I loved Mr. Boyfriend. But you know what? I wasn’t free to tell him. I wasn’t free to really ACT like it because he had these weird constraints. The few times I did tell him and he responded with an “I love you, too”, I felt like I was pushing something better left unpushed. So I stopped. I waited. I did not love him for the sole purpose of extracting love for me from him. But I can’t continue with something romantic without it. So I go.

His focus, of course, is on the male friends I hung with. On the tapes in his head. This is as it should be. I have already owned what I can of that. The rest I give to God. I cannot stop my natural personality. I cannot sit home and mope and be miserable anymore. There was a place at my side for him. Out of pride, out of stubbornness, he demanded that I come to him. I was there with friends, I was there first. I was in a situation which demanded some sort of social grace. Instead, it became something else. So be it. I am not unfaithful or inappropriate. I am who I am. And I loved him.

How do I feel? Very hurt. Very alone. Very disappointed. Very sad. I feel like I finally caught the final act of the play and the rest of it makes sense now.

However, at this moment, at this point, I feel better. Maybe it’s closure. Maybe it’s confronting the things, which weren’t working for me and actually…not accepting them. For once, for me, it’s not an issue. Issues, you know, can be solved and worked around. But needs, big needs, like the need to know how someone feels about you…they can’t be. Romance is so essential to a woman’s heart. Love so essential to a human beings. I can’t, won’t, ever be in a long-term relationship without the two.

So that’s the scoop. I’m off to work. You never know, though, I may have a lapse and run back to the computer crying my eyes out again. Wish me luck!

Leveled

OK, I’m losing it.

Mr. Boyfriend and I were to do a radio program together. There is apparently a training this evening for the thing. He emailed me and asked me to let him do it alone. It was his idea. He’ll find someone else to do this with. He wants to have fun with it.

For some reason this leveled me. I’m like, getting ready to go to work and I’m sobbing. I have to stop and I can’t.

He hates me. Or doesn’t feel anything for me, rather. He says I cheated on him.  I didn’t. I know that’s nuts. I know I have to walk away BECAUSE that’s nuts and has very little to do with me.

But I trusted this guy. You all watched me give him my heart. How do I take it back? I want it back. I don’t want to go through this again.

A visit with J

Here I am again. It’s going to be one of those weeks.  With the exception of Donna Vera, all of you who regularly read are complete strangers.  I wish that you would speak, but it is enough to know you visit regularly and check in.  As I was saying, it’s going to be one of those weeks. A tough one with lots of emotional realizations. I am learning to really hate weeks like this. I know that they propel me forward.  I know that they are part of this whole process. But nonetheless, I am learning to hate it.

First, and this is purely feminine, but I have to tell someone. I hate my hair. I recently got a perm and although it looks all right, I’ve even gotten compliments on it, it feels terrible. My hair now feels damaged and dry and I hate it. I realized this the other day. There’s my female bitch for the day.

Ms. J

I had my appointment with Ms. J this morning. It went well. I realized something while talking to her. The whole Mr. Boyfriend thing…even if things were off kilter Friday night – even if I was ticked off that he didn’t call until 9:20 in the evening and then expected me to be receptive…no matter what he did, I ought to have warned him I was going to be out and about and in the company of male friends. I know that this is his deficit and I should have been more protective of it.

Hindsight is 20/20, eh?

This came from a comment J made about feeling secure in ourselves and God and that possibly alleviating jealousy. I disagreed. Surprised even myself. Here is my philosophy: We are all the walking wounded. All of us. We all walk around with holes in our hearts, hurts we have incurred. They make us more sensitive in some areas. When we truly care about another human being, whether that person is a best friend or a boyfriend or a girlfriend, we will be protective and careful of the other.

Of course, don’t get me wrong…I know that in order to be equal; Mr. Boyfriend should have been damn careful of MY wounds, been sensitive to my heart. And he was not. In some areas he’s been pretty cloddish. I let it go, hoping that as we got to know each other, as he learned about me, he would be more sensitive. He wasn’t. Not in some areas. I will learn from this. I have learned something about what I need.

J also had the audacity to suggest that I might be in denial. That I need to learn to feel my feelings. Nifty. If I’m sad, I should know that it’s ok to be sad. I should FEEL sad. Or any other emotion.

Is wanting to crawl into bed and pull the covers over my head a feeling?

Ok, here’s how I FEEL about this stuff with Mr. Boyfriend. I’ll try this, first, because it is so close to the surface. Maybe I can actually touch it.

I feel sad. I feel lonely. I feel abandoned. I feel a little betrayed. I feel disappointed. I feel a little tricked. I feel angry. I feel hurt. (Hey, this isn’t so difficult.) I feel empty. I feel rejected and confused. Oh, fine. I feel GUILTY. I also feel like I was really stupid for getting involved in the first place.

The Weight Game

And here, here’s the psychotic-ness in me. I am 36 years old. I quit smoking in September. I gained 10 pounds. For the last 24 hours all I’ve done is obsess about my weight. I think, personally, it’s control I’m struggling with. I’m also expecting that those ten pounds are the reason I am so easy to walk away from. Beauty. Oh, I know. I have realized in the last month or so that I still get looked at and hit on plenty. Apparently it doesn’t matter that much. This is an improvement from my thought process before. But I’m terrified of the weight I’ve gained. I’m afraid it makes me look ugly.

How’s that for neurotic? Or am I simply verbalizing what most people think? Or did Dadd-e-o and the ex seriously do some damage to me? I don’t know. I suppose I shall have to bring this up to J. In the mean time, I’m doing the weight watchers thing (lost five pounds the first couple of weeks last time) and exercising. I’ll feel better, I guess. It’s not like I don’t have the time, at the moment, anyway. (Am I going to feel sorry for myself now? Why, yes! Yes, I am.)

Deprivation of Another Kind

So I have my coupons for free weeks at several workout places. I’m liking the concept of women’s circuit training. Maybe.  I have a total of three weeks free – I figure at that point I will know which place I want to join, if any. It’s all part of the plan that I mentioned last night. I have a plan to get through this. Hockey is over (temporarily) and so I have a bit more time. Besides, I think I can find time, three times a week to run in for 30 minutes in between stops on the job.

About Hockey being over – it’s funny, but I would sorely miss the hockey parents if my son did not continue to be involved. When he expressed a desire to continue to play in an ongoing program, I thought, “Oh, good. I can keep in contact with these people!” Of course, this was after playing laser tag with about ten other adults and having more fun in a large group of people than I have had in a long time. It’s a tremendous community.  One worth staying in touch with.

It’s funny, as I read other people’s blogs, I think, WOW, they have whole worlds going on in their heads.  And I? A soap opera. Am I just more relationally oriented than other people?

Coffee Deprivation

C.F. spoke of coffee/tea deprivation as a sort of brain damage. I can relate to this. It’s interesting to put me behind the wheel of a vehicle without any sort of warm beverage to assist in my wakefulness. Immediately when I woke up this morning I thought about his recent post. I woke up feeling ..deprived, too. I have had enough off time with the male in my life that I am intimately familiar with this feeling.

Here’s how it goes.

I wake up early – probably about an hour before I actually have to get up. I look at the clock and realize that I don’t need to be awake yet. In my confusion, I wonder what woke me up. Is there a child in my room? A child upstairs? What noise did I hear? Then I realize it was none of these things. I am simply awake.

Oh, yes. It dawns on me. Mr. Boyfriend. Gone. Sadness feels, physically, like a weight settling on my chest, in my limbs. I expel breath from my lungs and feel deflated. On the edge of crying but not quite there. There is too much to do to sit and cry. My shoulders slump before I even sit up.

There is no point in staying in bed. I will not sleep and I will focus on my sadness. So I get up. I have felt this for the last five mornings.  I lived with this feeling for two solid years. (Oddly, once I decided to get divorced, I no longer felt this way). A friend of mine finally told me just to get up and put in a full day – even if it is two in the morning that I wake up and can’t get back to sleep. I bought a bottle of Tylenol p.m. – I’m never without it.  You just never know when worry or anxiety will strike.

Staying up until two in the morning Sat evening and then up early on Sunday made me fall asleep rather quickly last night. But I woke up extra early. With that feeling, that growing consciousness as I awoke.

My goal, I think, will be to eradicate that feeling.  When that feeling is gone I will have made it to the other side.  The ex was simply a man-child who had to go.  I should have done that a lot sooner. That feeling of loss I dealt with was immense, but it had to do with everything from losing a husband to a way of life to a family to my dreams for myself and my children. It was huge.

This, on the other hand, is very specific. It’s about one man, one person, one loss. It’s funny, but because of what I went through before, I am very good at rationally looking at the stages, what I’m going to go through, how I feel, and dealing with it ahead of time. Sit home alone and mope? No. Reach out. Reach out to those that will not hit on you, but instead will protect – those that understand.

Incidentally, at some point I need to speak of my former father-in-law. I think that loss is tremendous and one I have not dealt with on a level I need to deal with it on. I keep trying to recreate that relationship….with men who are the same age and graduated from the same school, no less. They have similarities in the way they deal with things which I can relate to. Odd. And they tend to be more like father figures for me.

So what else do I do to cope? Fill my time. Create goals. Projects. Plans. Tend to my health. My children. And God. I have some thoughts there, too. About my faith, my church. About who I am and what I need. What my kids need. And I write. I write a lot. I’m off to cry with J and deal with the new boss whom I dislike immensely.

She's Pathetic Already

So, as I mentioned earlier...I'm going to hate going to bed and driving long distances. I'm heading to bed shortly. I'm dreading it. This sucks. I had begun looking forward to bedtime - my sleep had finally hit a point where it was normal.

Here I go, though...to crawl in bed and lay there wide awake. And then to see J (counselor) in the morning - so she can make me cry some more.

I can't wait to explain this one to her. I can hear it the distressed "Oh, no! Whyyyy?"

Well, the same reason every other major male figure in my life has gone away. I just wasn't enough, I guess. Maybe if I say it like that, real flip, she won't cry? You think? So you know, that's HUMOR - not me being mopey and pathetic. Ok, maybe slightly mopey and pathetic, but mostly bitter and cynical.

And THEN ...oh, oh! I have a new boss whom I hate. His name is Chris and I can't help but say it all snotty. I have only talked to him briefly, once, but I don't like him at all. He comes to meet me next week. Bluck. I want to quit this particular program but have to be able to fill that time with something else that makes money, obviously. If it's not one thing, it's something else, eh?

Ok. I'm going in. Bed. Kleenex's. Sleep. Oblivion. Another day (Pollyana, where are thou?)...

Life Changes Again

You know how there are some things that once done, can never, ever be undone? I did one of those things today. I am not sure if it was an error or not. I’m not sure what my motivation was and I’m just not sure if I should of done it.

But, oh, well. ‘Tis Done.

I’m a traitor. I have another blog, which I have been posting to. No, no. This is not the dastardly thing, which I did which cannot be undone.  This other blog, it could be deleted, could it not? The template is pink. My, how the world has changed. Do you remember, donna vera, when we both had those pink spring jackets in the 8th grade? That’s the color pink I chose. Eventually I will reroute you there, if it becomes a thing that I stick with.

Notation

I perused my blog today and saw a recurrent theme. Do you remember the posting regarding Deficits?  Mine was the fear that I am unlovable.

Oh, gee, and then all through this thing I mention that I don’t think Mr. Boyfriend returns my feelings.

And THEN, when he says that he is capable of going back to just being friends…I say, enough. I can’t do anymore.

I can trace this trait all the way back to boyfriends in High school.  Although, frankly, no one ever broke up with me. Not even my idiot husband broke up with me…I did it. Is this significant?

Tomorrow I go back to this counselor I started seeing last week. I have been reading a book she recommended called Captivating by John and Stasi Eldredge. It is absolutely wonderful.  I really like this counselor – she is my age and has one more child than I do. And she cries. I tell her facts and she cries. And then I cry (I wouldn’t otherwise, damnit). I leave the thing exhausted.

From there I am joining a gym. This weekend was an interesting one. I’ve had several older women who have “been through hell” tell me it’s the only way to keep ones sanity as a single mother. Natural anti-depressants, time for myself, etc. I can’t do the real deal, I don’t have time. So I’m going to do one of those circuit deals. 30 minutes. One of those places where it’s all women and I won’t have to deal with men looking at women in their little thongs. Also, I don’t know where the ex’s affair #4 is working and she is an aerobics/yoga instructor.  When one is fighting middle age garbage, one doesn’t need to be looking at another chick who’s name ends in “y” or “i”.

Yeah, yeah. I am avoiding things.

Here’s the Deal

Alright, here’s the scoop. Mr. Boyfriend and I are done, I think.  It’s a combination of things and rather mutual, believe it or not. I can’t take the ambiguity. And he keeps thinking I’m interested in other men.  I’m not. But we’ve gone here before. He doesn’t want to go here again and I simply, well, have this whole deficit thing…if he loved me, I needed to hear the words.

Ironically, I feel rather unapologetic about being needy in that area. I think most people are.  So I gotta think I was right.  And you know what? I’m oddly ok with that. Ok, fine…I’m not. I’ve had my moment curled up in bed, crying, and asking myself what the hell is wrong with me that men simply can not fall in love with me that way.

Then, I HEARD what I was asking and told myself to shut up. That was ridiculous. That was old stuff. Tapes. From the ex-husband. “I just don’t think I love you like a husband should love a wife.”

Hhhmmm. Ok, yeah. A little bitter. But the ex did me a favor. I am happier now. I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to walk through life NOT HIDING ANYTHING. It is amazing. I will elaborate so you know what I am referring to…if you haven’t read previous posts, anyway. Every day that passes, I feel a little lighter.  I did not realize what my relationship with him did to me.  Every day my life was full of things I could not tell anyone. Whether it was violence, or some sort of nastiness to another human, or he broke a law or there was some sort of lie he told that I was supposed to back up…list goes on and on.

So I don’t so much mind on many levels that he realized he didn’t love me that way.

But Mr. Boyfriend? I like and admire him. I respect him. Our relationship was moody and unsure some of the time, but lots and lots of fun other times. And he was a great friend in many ways. But I needed to hear the words. I needed to feel it.

So this is what I am avoiding. This whole thing. He is gone. He will not read emails or talk to me. I gave him an open invitation to come here and see where all I’ve been these last six months…he will not, I am sure. I am gone. Buh-bye.  

A new friend of mine, who has been through something similar said to me “You need to stop worrying so much about whether people like you or not. They either are going to like you or they aren’t and there isn’t going to be much you can do about it.”  This was in relation to my romantic life. Another zinger. Am I THAT bad? That obvious?  That pathetic??

And the Future Holds…

You know what I’m going to do? I am not going to date anyone. I have no inclination. Mr. Boyfriend was a special case – I have said that before. But I am tired. This just fried me again. He doesn’t LIKE me like that and I wanted him to.  I’m going to focus on other things like my kids. My faith. My history and getting my head straight. Creating friendships I can count on. Creating a network of friends who need me as much as I need them. Developing, oh, gee, a self esteem. I have a plan.

A Woman’s Heart

I know I am doing better because I bought a rug for my family room. I have been in a variety of houses this weekend where the decorating was well done and extremely creative. I used to enjoy that. I used to like doing woodworking and building furniture, etc.  So I bought a rug. Everything in the family room, like me previously, was beige. This thing is black and maroon and gold and purple. Sound loud and obnoxious? It is. Now I have a color scheme. Purple is my favorite color anyway. So now I can paint the walls and buy throw pillows and paint the piano and rebuild the fireplace mantle somehow.  (I think probably the only one person I know that would like what I’m planning is Mr. Boyfriend…but OH will need to rework that thought process, eh?)

FINE, CALL ME A LIAR

I’m chasing myself in circles. I am going grieve this relationship, aren’t I? Can’t I, you know, just skip that part?  Please?

How do I feel? Really? Frightened. Not to be alone - I actually think that’ll be ok. I experimented this weekend. I refused to stay home and mope. I still am able to drum up entertainment and people to hang with. I was not married, but not single for waaaay too long. I do alone pretty well. And now, friendships I create can become solid ones because I have nothing to hide anymore.

So what is it I’m afraid of? Pain. This is going to hurt. I love him. He was my best friend. This is going to hurt. I am going to stay so damn busy and so damn social that I only cry in bed at night. I am going to manage this, this time. I know what to expect. I know where to go (God, Jesus). There will be a difference this time; I know I am not alone. I know what I need. I know I’ll be ok. I just am REALLY not looking forward to crawling into bed at night or driving in my car long distances. I’m going to support the Kleenex industry. Goody.

So I’m a liar.  I won’t be skipping through the tulips. And why did this happen? Oh, yeah. Because I don’t think he’s in love with me, and he thinks I was out screwing around (see previous posts so you can understand why I snicker at that). Boy, that’s just conflict waiting to happen.

Alright, I’m done. I’ve poured out my soul and babbled. I could be like this for a while…check back often. I’m off to venture out into the snow for what I hope will be the last time in a while…

Fooled Again

Saturday morning and the sun is out. Yahoo!

Mr. Boyfriend and I are on the fritz again. I did a no-no last night and went out with with some friends - who are male. Never mind that they are both twenty years older then me and glower at anyone who hits on me or who they think I might be flirting with...Mr. Boyfriend, of course, showed up - he knew I was out - saw my car in the parking lot. Came in, no doubt just to see what I was doing.

I realized what everybody else probably already knows. He is not in love with me. Oh, he told me he was way back in September, but he's not now. Hasn't been. The other night he told me that he could go back to just being my friend without a problem. That's the worst thing a man can say to a woman with any sort of ego.

Although the words haven't been said, I believe we are effectively over. I did not even stay in my marriage once my ex told me he wasn't sure he loved me. That was part of the end for me (there was one week where it all ended in my heart). I didn't stay. I don't stay in things when they are lopsided like this. I just don't do it. Now, when the ex LIED to me and I didn't KNOW it was lopsided, that was different...

Ok, ok. I need to explore something. How afraid do you think I am? Am I nuts? This relationship is back and forth and back and forth...I have met none of his friends, none of his siblings (have met his children). I feel like I have been segmented into only part of his life. He told me that part of the reason he is still with me is because our relationship is easy. We are effectively friends with benefits. He got his way. I did not get mine. I fooled myself.

I have a new blog dedicated strictly to any emails or letters I write him, which I might be tempted to send. I am not calling or writing him. I will miss him very much. He has been a tremendous amount of support for me. In all honesty, my friends kind of, well, they are busy. And married. And they don't get it. My family is elsewhere and older, really. Mr. Boyfriend has been it. I'll be fine, though. This time, I know I'll be ok.