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I check the mail every day now. I don't get much, am waiting for the court envelope with the final stamped document. Not sure how it will look. Then all is over, 24 years, counting dating and the last two living apart. I cry, but that guy has not existed for a while anyway.
And then my status changes in this relationship. We are no longer two attached people seeking comfort on the way out. I will become one of "those women," waiting waiting waiting. For a day that may never come. Will in all odds never come.
I'm depressed. I'm in constant pain. My husband disappeared in the late 90s, changed into some strange creature no one could possibly understand or live with. He wrecked our finances. I have no idea how I'll ever retire. My mom died, suffering horribly. My father has some sort of dementia. My kids appear to be super-achievers, but they do stuff they shouldn't and I wait for the phone call. The guy I love now is tangled in a mess and who knows if he'll ever be free to have a real relationship. I don't want to start over again.
She would be 80 today. We'd celebrate tomorrow, sushi probably. And then back to my place for a cake. She always said she didn't have a sweet tooth, but she'd eat cake and ice cream. And pie! She never really had true diabetes; that was just the beginning of the pancreatic cancer. OMG, she'd be so proud of the girls! And she'd be good to talk to about J1...she was never morally judgmental of me, though she encouraged the traditions because of practicality. Hard to argue with that. It's a constant struggle for me to be happy without structure.
Letting things go. I don't have to obsess over every word forever; there can be passes for errant remarks. Words can drift off into the breeze like dandelion fluff. Every sentence does not have to be carved into stone. I didn't know. I've been getting passes all along. What a relief. This doesn't have to be so hard after all. I can breathe here ... this can be the easy part while everything else continues to pound on relentlessly like waves crashing in one after another, no breaks. You're never too old to have someone hold your hand no matter what.
I've explained a hundred times when the Social Security money hits his bank account, but no, he wrote the rent check too soon. Every month he moved closer to the edge, so the overdraw became inevitable. And he keeps giving to charities. Anyway, tonight he handed over his Visa card and all his checks, done. It'll be less stressful this way because I think about this all the time. I'll get check-signing authority next week and he won't have to deal with any of it. Just get his cash, groceries, whatever. Soon we'll have to deal with the car.
Thought I did this. Really am in an extraordinary amount of pain. Yet very focused on work and important things. Don't want to jinx, but I'm very good lately, hardly forget anything. Maybe it's because I write everything down all the time, notes, lists all over the fucking place. Now watch me mess up because I said this. D got an awesome internship; she is so happy. And this came at a great time too, when she was down about the breakup. Good. She can just forget about that dickhead. S has bigdeal awards thing tonight. J says he'll come.
Everything is good with everyone. I should just focus on myself and health. Try to deal with this pain, stop worrying about other stuff. All is OK. And things that are out of my control, well, let those go anyway. Am hurting too much to write; and that's the way it is. Will have to accept that until things get better. No reason to stare at laptop hating myself. Can't write when I'm in this much pain. Maybe some people can, good for them. I work all day, am getting two kids through college. Not like I'm lazing around here.
I wouldn't like it if I had to live in it, plus I'm always cold besides, but I've been thinking of snow a lot lately. Little crystal flakes. Hills of sparkling whiteness. Fluffy piles to scoop into wet balls and throw at peeps. Last weekend when upset and trying not to cry I imagined snow falling, a hard wind blowing it across my face. That worked, for a while. During a migraine, the inside of my head is hot ... I know I'm getting better when it cools, and as the pain dissipates it's like an endless plain of pure snow.
My daughters are amazing. I shouldn't jinx by saying too much, but how is it that two utter fuckups could have produced these girls? You have all these parents, successful people, beautiful homes, extended family support, friendships, modeling healthy behaviors, etc. They seem to really know what they're doing; they've got it together in so many areas. Sure, imperfect, maybe divorced, whatever, but even so. And us? Omg, we just FAIL. I mean really. We could never run for public office, that's for damn sure. But the girls are doing so well. I think I can relax a little bit.
Today was good. I began to spiral down; insane negative hypothetical dialogs spun around in my head for a while as they do, but I got to work and saw it was billing day. Oh, that's right, the 10th. So, I had a bunch of stuff to keep me busy and the voices went on mute. Things went well at work, but I know there is nothing stopping them from doing anything they want at any point. No one is irreplaceable, certainly not me. Anything could happen. The main guy could die. I made a weird cake for S's graduation.
J didn't go to D's graduation; I don't remember why. We were still living together then. He probably had some frantic business mess to attend to. That's always the way with him. Everything is a last minute upfucked disaster. (Our divorce papers just got kicked back for another stupid mistake, so it'll be a few more weeks, again.) Anyway, S and I went to D's. I got sunburnt, so this time I bought a hat. Will probably be sitting alone ... maybe should bring a book. Will probably be boring as hell. I am getting used to doing everything alone now.
Giving up on Meetup. Tried crafts group, got confirmation emails, went to store in Sunset Beach with D ... closed and "For Lease." Other women milling around looked mystified. Today received email asking how was Meetup? Was really looking forward to this. Maybe will see if Michael's or Joanne's has crochet or crafts groups, idk. Need to get out of the house! Really should start going back to gym, taking walks, anything. Will go slowly insane after S leaves in August if I keep on this path of sitting, playing on laptop, staring at walls. J1 not enough, not a life.
Lunatic woman called asking for boss saying it was personal. Turned out she wanted to sell him office supplies. He hung up on her. She called me back, telling me he was worse than Anthony Weiner and I should rise up against "The Man," vote for T-Paw. Also, she is a billionaire and don't I want to buy some pens? I need permission. Why, she whines. She again rants about my boss calling him a weiner. Get it? Weiner! She seems not to grasp that the boss is the guy with the money to buy her crap, not me.
He remembers the promise, but breaks it regardless. Not his fault, bla bla. I told him it wouldn't work, but he insisted I was wrong. Sometimes the entire thing seems so hopeless. How can it possibly be anything but this? He is so mired in stuff with no real plan out, just goes day by day. And if he did get out, how could we blend our lives with the way he is? I know, no one means to hurt me. No one is bad. It just happens. If I'm not understanding, then I become the bad one, unreasonable, dramatic.
What if... What if my sex drive is fading, and dies? This could happen and would change everything. Still happy I got rid of the psycho. But now I could forget all of them. Not that they're all psycho, but I keep choosing men who hurt me. I have terrible judgment. But what if I could stay single, stop looking, be content with my kids, friends, hobbies, etc.? Get a cat, yay! Be done with all that SHIT. No more waiting for some jerk to have a precious hour of time to spend with me or send a fucking email.
Graduation soon, need flowers. Drizzle, grey, cold. Not enough time for DMV. So much stuff. But I am emotionally shedding, I think. Just exhausted, drained, beaten. I'm starting not to care about much other than kids, health, job, which is how it should be really. Other people put their lives first, so that's what I should be doing. Trying to get back into fiction writing mode because that can be fun when I get going with it. Coffee meet with small writers group Saturday night; I enjoy this. Want to find more comfortable social activities, hopefully involving hands-on crafts.
S graduated; my neck is somewhat better. BP high. Suspect relationship stress; trying to change my ways because that's the only thing I have power over, me. Never a good thing to express my feelings, even though he says I should. Always get back the anger reaction, plus "bad timing." Tonight will suck, so I took valium already, am kind of floating, nice. Will be okay to drive in an hour or so. Maybe I need to end this, not going to deal with that right this minute. Letting the possibility flutter around though, not shooing it away this time.
IDK. Talked, better, trying new things. Boiled it all down to one issue. Get-together tonight with writing friends. Maybe I should take more drugs. That, and go to the gym. Plus do crafts. If I'm not actually physically motivated to write, don't just sit here and stare into space ... that's when the "rethinking" begins and I spiral down. Tomorrow, Dad. Not a happy thought there, but I have to help him even if he resents it. This is when you lie to them "for their own good." What else can you do? Let them throw away all their money?
I called it early on, said it would be about money. Nope, he said, never, he's too miserable with her. Money isn't everything. Hah. But this is just a delay. OK. I will wait because we love each other so fucking much ... but I have to stop the meltdowns.
Could be worse. Could be living with my love, both of us semi-employed, and his awful psychokid. Bipolar mom in the picture. No money to send kid to camp or help him. All summer, trapped with psychokid, but hey you're living with your love. Ain't that great? Perspective.
Called social services on Dad. Doubt they will do anything. Could tell it didn't seem like an emergency to them. He takes showers, eats meals, takes his meds. So he lets himself get scammed by everyone who knocks on the door. They don't care; they probably have old grandmas who are being starved by their caretakers. I can no longer help; Dad wants me to stop touching his papers. And all my worrying has done nothing but give me a headache. His rent check bounced last month; he shrugged. Fine. I can't chip in, and he'll never live with me.
I never loved him, not that there has been much reason to ponder this. He wasn't a bad father, supported me, but he was cruel to my mother and I hated him when little. Later, I became more objective: she could have left, didn't for mostly materialistic reasons, so whatever. As an adult, I mostly was nice, no reason not to be, except when he'd troll I'd sometimes lose it. After Mom died, I tried to help him because she would have wanted that, but I can't now because it's driving me insane. I need a long break from visiting.
First one: VGL, uber-competent at guy things, gentle, loved cats, randomly intelligent, totally bonkers. The whole family was. But I didn't know, and until he went off the meds, we had the kind of routine boring stable togetherness type of life I love. Work, meals, kitties, crafts, movies, lots of cuddling, talking, and samey sameness. No kids in that picture; I was fine with this.
Then complete break. Voices. FBI spying through the refrigerator. Stopped working. Up all night devising a system to win at the track. Quit taking showers. Muttered scary stuff about negative female energy...
Last night I dreamt I was in a JC Penney's after a great flood ... it was filled with kitties they were trying to adopt out. Kitties in cages and healthy, some wandering around, all black. Very cute, but I said I had light-furniture, so couldn't take one. Then the clerk disappeared into the back, came out with an orange and white creamsicle kitty, short-haired, handed her to me. Not a baby, but little, a bit chubby-faced, all cuddly and lovey. Soft soft kitty. I knew I'd have to take this one. Did not want! Then woke up.
Casey Anthony trial. Haven't been following every article, but it seems Mama Cindy is lying to protect her daughter. People are outraged. They want to see Casey DP'd or at least life'd for killing little Caylee. I too think Casey is guilty of premeditated murder. But would I commit perjury to try to save my daughter from the DP? Are you FUCKING KIDDING? Of course I would. Yet as a member of society I hope the gambit fails, Casey's jury finds her guilty, and Cindy gets hit with a perjury charge. But Cindy is not a monster for doing this.
No writing lately, and not beating myself up about it either. Doze off in the evenings, sleep without much help. Just tired. No exercise, will work on that. BP was up. Woke up at 2 (normal), read FB/blogs on phone. Guy fantasizing about a boychild he won't have with new GF. Fell back asleep dreamt of this boy ripped to pieces by a pitbull. I took dog into bedroom wiped blood off mouth. Covered him or boy with blanket, then called police. Went to meet my lover, who told me he could never leave wife, so sorry. We cried.
I "stalk" her, if such a term is appropriate for someone who has an open FB wall, though she hardly says much. She is a real person to me. And I don't believe the story is so one-sided. He can be hard to take, though we blend well, with our obsessions, neuroses, wordplays, math games, and extreme sex drives. She seems simply ordinary. I could not tolerate someone ordinary either. But like mine, this was over long ago, nothing to do with me. I don't really care, just noodling. She won't be hurt, has plenty of money and family.
S made stupid error, much worse because we don't have money to blow on mistakes. And I freak at uncertainty. Will have to tell J at some point, unless things turn around quickly. That will be a nightmare. Or not. Can't predict him -- he may not GAF. I have to work on anger control. This could have happened to anyone; things will be OK. I think. She will learn a lot from this and be on top of stuff from now on. Is good. The guy is trying to be comforting, in his way, but everything he says irritates me.
Black Swan writer says when someone blows past two deadlines expect that the thing won't get done for like ever. That is what I believe and why I'm so disillusioned. And I'm bored. Bored with the entire structure that I considered a foundation (good), then a bridge (tolerable), but never an end in itself. I'm always annoyed now, have to talk myself down to be pleasant company, not that he minds snotty banter, but I don't want to be that person. It verges on hostile. There's no romance. Not even sure the prize is what I thought it was anymore.
Loved amusement parks way back when. The scariest rides, the outrageously fattening food. Went on the Tidal Wave repeatedly after wolfing down an enormous hunk of peanut butter fudge. Oh, to be seventeen! Enjoyed driving back then too. Had a ton of confidence, no fear. Felt good most of the time, could have studied anything, been decently successful, made some serious money. What happened? I'm a wreck, smashed on the rocks. Must start to reclaim my life, starting with this relationship imbalance. Until he is openly committed to me, I owe him nothing but sexual fidelity. Looking, talking. Only fair.
Yesterday I felt better, empowered, thinking I'd look for someone else, or at least be open to it, while continuing to see him, and then break up if I met anyone good, because that seemed more "fair and balanced." I wouldn't be assuming all the risk. But today I feel like shit again, don't really want to do that. Don't know what I want. Don't trust him, but wouldn't trust anyone new either. They all suck. Should just get a cat. Looked at pics of orange and white cats, like the one from my dream. But $40 more in rent.
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