Underneath

It seems like such a simple thing -- to meet up with an old friend for lunch. It would require a few hours on the road to meet half-way and I keep committing myself to it only to make up an excuse and cancel. Tonight, this particular friend, who happens to be fairly up-front about such matters, informed me that he will no longer try to get in touch with me if I do not return this -- his millionth phone call. He went on to leave an extended message regarding the unlikelihood that someone with a cell phone does NOT have it every day and hour.

He's not the first. I've been pushing people away for some time now but I had been making efforts to keep a couple of my best friends ... until lately. My psyche had cracked multiple times this past year, as I have documented, but it was a couple of months ago when my father had the triple bypass that something clicked. Could have just been the treacherous time of the year but I quit. I pushed my best friend away, refused more offerings for outings, and crawled inside.

I have nothing to give. If I can't make it three miles away to get groceries then how can I make it 3 hours to have dinner with a friend? As it is, I can't stand the thought of taking on the phone so face-to-face terrifies me.

I suppose that if I let everyone fall away then i won't have to endure more pushing away.

thirteen years ago today

"... And in the darkest night ...
... if mY memory serves You/mE right ...
... i will not turn back time ...
... forgetting yOu ...
... but not the time ... " *

Party Of One Shallow-Beating Heart

Green Day: Boulevard of Broken Dreams

No Struts

Tonight I received a phone call from a couple of girls from grade/high school. They had recently added me to Facebook and thought they would phone to catch up and ask me to come down to visit. Last I had heard, they were married with children but now both of them are lesbians with girlfriends -- quite a feat coming from a small bible town.

They seemed quite happy but could have just been drunk. I was glad for the call but something about it made me sad enough that I have been thinking about how good it would be to just go to sleep and not wake up. Maybe it was the ease at which I could talk to them (having grown up with them in a tiny class of twenty) or maybe it was the ease at which they seemed to be living life ... either way, I was left with the deep sadness.

I don't have an easy relationship with anyone, not even my real sisters. Much of today was spent with my best friend -- a guy -- whom I'd give anything to feel something romantic toward. Nothing is easy.

After all was done, tonight ended with me doing a perfect summary of the same old thing -- playing a fake guitar to achieve empty points that result in nothing while the world goes on outside my door and I know no other way to live ... nor possess the desire to do so.

None Were Ever There

A heart, so full of longing, bleeds
A heart, with no one to turn to, needs


Big eyes, desperate to seek, turn to look
Big eyes, set upon me, forlorn and forsook


Battered soul, ripped and shredded, left to rot
Battered soul, threads of loss, weakened and shot


My dejected hand, weathered and gaunt, reaches in
My dejected hand, barren, finds nothing left but skin.

The Last $50

Not being able to spend it, in the past I would have given the bill to my then-husband and he would use it for whatever was needed. It felt better that way. My parents periodically sent money and I felt, since I was estranged, that I had no right to it. Also, I just didn't want to deal with it. However, now the husband is gone and so is the mother yet there was another $50 bill in a Christmas card that was in the bewitched box of belongings that had been sent to me.


My mind being elsewhere, I haven't give much thought to it. Most certainly, this is not going to salvage the savings I will soon be eating up during my unemployment yet today my mind wanders back to it. What would she want me to have -- within $50? Should I give it thought this time or should I just keep it as is? I mean, for once, what would a typical mother want her daughter to have? There are many practical things that I don't purchase for myself; like, I realized that I don't have a measuring cup or measuring spoons or a sieve or a table centerpiece for my kitchen. Would those be a normal things for a parent to buy? Would she have wanted that? These are thoughts that go through my head today.


Sometimes, I am halted from my activities by a pervasive thought that "my mom's body is dead." The thought comes randomly, always uses the same words, and brings about very little emotion. But, it keeps nagging at me. I've had very little grief about the death at all and wonder if there are brewing emotions underneath waiting to boil over. Having missed the funeral, some say I will need to go to the grave site to get closure. I have not believed that to be the case but it is possible that this is where I'm headed with these dead-body thoughts. I guess only time will tell with this one. For now, I'll just leave the $50 in the card.

Prerogative Of The Brave*

"A coward is incapable of exhibiting love"*

You leach upon my existence so that you may avoid your own.
You tether me to you in the hope that you will go where I may
(without paying the toll.)

OR

You turn quickly away to avoid any reflection of yourself.
You panic and throw hate at me to avoid your unrealistic shame.

Either way, I pick you off and toss you down.

* Mahatma Gandhi

My Facebook Voyeurism

For months now I've been snooping around on Facebook to get a glance at people I knew "back when." I purposely have not added my maiden name or high school affiliation to my own Facebook account so that no one can easily find me.

I've gone out, looked up someone then clicked each of their friends to see who they are friends with, and from there I've worked myself around the tree.

At some point I came across a couple of people from my high school and became interested in adding them to my friends list but I haven't been able to follow through. In fact, it's become somewhat of a bizarre rut.

During some of my most loneliest nights when I can't sleep, I've logged onto Facebook only to sit staring for hours at the "Add as Friend" button for these people.

Should I click it? I weigh the pros and cons. What about the time this person was mean to me in seventh grade? What if this person has evolved into a more mature person? After all, some of us do grow up. But, do i want people to know that I have no family or home to show for my life? Will they criticize my hair or clothes like back in the day? The endless debate continues and I drag myself back to bed.

Divorce Takes Health Toll

Nothing Built To Last

Mostly, I've been numb all week trying to process the betrayal of him seeing someone before the divorce was even final and then being in shock from finding another girl's belongings on, what was, my side of the bathroom.

I thought acceptance was setting in until I heard his non-caring voice on the phone yesterday. The day before, I had managed to bicycle around a parking lot and then sing in the shower.

It appears my actions are too much. My doctor phoned saying that the area around my sternum is swollen, that I am exercising too much, that I need to be sedentary, and to take drugs for a couple of weeks because this is dangerous to my heart conditions. Great, add pulmonary wreck to my list.

Exercising too much? I've ridden my bicycle three times: around the block and in a nearby church parking lot. How can that be too much? I sit at a computer all week. My heart is broken for reasons beyond exercise but I did not try to explain this.


What will happen next I cannot imagine and do not want to know. I am very tired of hearing myself complain.

Advice To Take

I dreamed.

I waited.

You went away.

You found someone else.

I try to bury my dreams underground.

".... He is making you pay and if he cared enough he would feel like you and not be able to go "out" with anyone else. You did not divorce him because you didn't care, it was because of other things and those have not changed. He wants to leave you hanging. It is different for men because they cannot live without women, not he wants you in his life in case he is alone someday. You do things your way and let him do things his and move on from there, hard as it may be. You only get one shot at this life, don't let your feelings for him rule!!!! You will find out one day and ask yourself- "why did I ever care so much for him?" trust me."

Green Day - "21 Guns" - HD

Untitled

Yesterday, instead of celebrating Independence Day, I celebrated the fact that the week was over. A cat with cancer needing surgery then hospitalization all week, learning of a new health problem of my own, and my new company being bought out (yes, the job I had left my crazy but permanent position for) and my job status questionable was more than bad.


Today, I'd rather go back to last week. He should have warned me instead of allowing me to stumble across it. The sick cat I mentioned was one who stayed with the ex-husband who is out of town all week so that I am going to that house three times a day to care for the sick cat. I needed a tissue. There was Mary Kay all through the bathroom. It was odd ... but he has sisters and a mother ... but then I went to pat the cat lying on the bed and it was then that I saw her photo.

Two Tickets - One Person

So, I've been trying to move on since the divorce. I've moved out of the small apartment to something a little larger and more comfortable. Trudging along, I continue in my therapy while trying to hold down a job that might die in a few months. Except for the viral/flu/whatever-bout, my health has been overall better.

Those moments still happen though ... for example, I'll come across an old shirt or something that smells of our home together and then I start to cry. He does well without me but I miss him terribly. Then today someone at work was offering box seats to MLB games that were still available and I automatically selected the Cubs tickets without realizing that I'm not the Cubs fan ... the Cubs fan has gone on without me. Now I have two tickets to a game but only myself to take.

Keep What You Steal

Throughout the separation and divorce I banged my head against the wall in frustration wondering how could it be that two people who truly cared for each other so much could NOT work out their marriage. Today I found the answer and like many other twisted deceptions, it was glaring in plain sight all along.

It was the very sentence I uttered that held the truth -- "... TWO people who TRULY CARED for each other ..." He did not hate me but he instead felt nothing and I think that may be where I got lost and have been stumbling around for the past years. How would I have known anything else.

I think it had began to sink in a couple of months ago but just hit me today. Anyway, the worse part is that this is probably the sum of the majority of our marriage of 11 years, 4 months, and 28 days.

I should have known that if anyone were to steal my heart then of course it would be thrown it away. Thieves have no honor.

The Weight of Subconscious Expectations

It was the last day of 2008 when I learned that the papers had been signed, notarized, and the divorce complete. I did not feel sad or happy -- free or burdened -- angry or peaceful. I felt nothing but the same.

My marital status is divorced but my heart remains unchanged. I still easily refer to him as 'my husband' and do not know what to refer to the man who has played such an influential role in my heart. I can't bear the term 'EX-husband.' I think this will pass with time but other things I am not so sure.

On Fridays, I come home from work and suddenly am sad when I realize that he has not phoned and we have no plans for the evening. I was never aware that I had hoped or expected to have contact with him. Even more odd, the same thing also happens on Saturdays and Sundays. I go about my days then suddenly I am hit with a sadness when I realize that he is gone. This at least happens once during the work week as well.

It is not as if I am not trying to move on; likewise, it is not as if I do not ever phone him because I do.

The only idea I can surmise is that this must have been a pattern dating back for years. Though the dance looks different the steps are the same.

Folie à Quatre

So they found out about the divorce. I do not know who ratted me out but I can only assume that it was Sister #1. She would have told Sister #2 so that, of course, anyone in a 100-mile radius would now know.

Apparently they have been calling for some time but my husband had been shielding the calls so that I would not have to stress over it until after the holiday. I am very grateful to him for this.

They continue to send snail mail as well. My guess is that Sister #1 did not relay the address I told her to give them -- the 7th cardboard box by the south entrance to the arch ... the only one with the Cosco shopping cart, etc.

Per the latest phone message, my father stated that he would be driving up soon (perhaps this weekend) to 'take care' of this divorce situation. I do not know what that means and probably do not want to know but I am completely in awe of their delusional thinking.

I haven't seen or spoken to them in so many years. I was informed that they also offered to come up and help my husband with any household chores or repairs. He's a grown man and it's a 3-hour drive. Seriously? There is no making sense of this so do not try.

Years ago, I learned that it is wasteful to make sense of someone that is so illogical. My mother is delusional to a psychotic degree and everyone else seems to fall closely behind. They do meet all the diagnostic criteria for 297.3, or rather, Folie à quatre.

In any event, I am thinking that the time has come to tear out the face of my entire family's reality by speaking out of that which has never been spoken of. It is only a matter of when. I will let you know if I do.

Waiting For Leftovers

As is typical, the sum of this update is that I remain in waiting on HIM to do something other than work or sports. It is one piece of paper to sign but he can't manage that. One sheet of paper so that this marriage can be done. I could actually begin to try and pick up my pieces but he will hold it off as long as possible for his own sake while I wait out another winter in this cold and drafty apartment where nothing works right.

I phone but he does not return calls. I email but he ignores those as well. Over Thanksgiving, he phoned late night and asked if I wanted leftovers. Can you believe that? It seems innocent enough ... but leftovers? Seriously? It is like a nasty joke from fate or whatever being controls irony. All I have gotten from him in forever has been leftovers.

Now in this economy when I can actually AFFORD a house, I have to wait on him again. He has three months to re-finance and six months to sell our house so that I can get my name off the mortgage but there is no reason for me to ever expect that I won't hear of this matter again until 5.75 months from whenever he graces me with his signature. He refuses to even take the time to give me my past year's tax forms or the title to the car as was agreed.

Leftovers. We've done a good job at not hating and fighting each other during this divorce but now I think I've just been stupid. I've become one of those women: smart at everything but alleged love. I left him in our comfortable house so that he would not be so "devastated." Those were his exact words - that he would be DEVASTATED. Stupid. He now says he has "made peace" with our divorce and "has moved on" and guess how I am? Devastated. Stuck and devastated and unable to move on with my life. Unable to make peace because I am waiting on him.

Thrown

Divorce after a long marriage is not what I thought. It seemed to be about hate, anger, yelling, fighting, and being cruel to the person whom you had claimed to love more than other ... but it is not like that at all -- that's just what it looks like from the outside ... for most people anyway ... I don't think my husband nor I ever inherited that privilege of voicing hate and anger ... but, like I said, it's not about that.

This failure rips off every scab that you might have mended so that every betrayal or pain that you had thought was gone comes trailing out of the shadows one after another like an angry mob leaving you crippled, shocked, inadequate, unworthy, and primitively raw. Any dream that you had purchased goes under and leaves you completely bankrupt, homeless, and clueless so that all you can hope for is to get to work and back to your latest non-home before more vomit erupts from your now wordless mouth.

It is apparently not fair to ever think that someone will love you enough to fight for you when the reality is that we are all so broken that most of us cannot even fight for ourselves.

August 2nd

• On August 2nd of this year, I had been married for eleven years.
• On August 2nd of this year, my husband signed and notarized paperwork from my lawyer.
• On August 2nd of this year, I cried hysterically for hours throughout the day and spent significant amount of phone-time with a therapist while my husband was able to go about his day.
• On August 2nd of this year, I went to dinner with my husband and we spoke not of the significance of the day. After all, that is the way our marriage has worked. I could have brought it up but he will say that he has nothing to say.
• On August 2nd of this year, I gave my husband a chunk of cash for the specific purpose of buying some 'needed' school supplies but he has changed his mind and I wonder if I've been taken advantage of or I am just not valued or if this is a passive-aggressive way to get back at me. It doesn't matter either way.
• On August 2nd of this year, I received an insane letter from my pedophile father requesting things of me that are ridiculous ... this will have to wait for another post.
• On August 3rd, I felt relief but tucked myself away from contact with others.
• Today, on August 4th, ... more of the same and I speak only when spoken to because I know fetal positions aren't allowed at work or in public. According to him, he would be the one devastated and crushed and I recall that so clearly yet I see it not in him but only myself. I'm wondering if I am a schmuck.

A Cluttered Mind

Today I took eleven bags of old clothing to the charity bin after a couple hours of semi-sorting, throwing away, and packing up what is left of my belongings at the house. It is a huge undertaking to sort through the hopes and dreams that you had ... deciding which to toss, which to give away, and which to keep. I managed to keep the tears away via the MP3 player until I walked into the bedroom where my husband now sleeps alone.

It was immediately that I burst into another hysterical fit of crying and had to sit down. He relentlessly cuts coupons, keeps tiny bits of paper, and leaves it sprawled across everywhere. It was like a bed in the middle of a trash dump. I think he has a compulsive hoarding disorder but you would never guess so. We had always struggled with this issue but I thought he had gotten it under control. The thought of him sleeping alone in that bed with all the mess around him slices a cut through my stomach -- especially since these problems seem to be so very treatable. I cried for him because I know something horrible has probably happened to leave him in this state and I am so sorry. I cried that I have another loss to add to my list.

I'm supposed to gather my financial statements - IRA forms, car title, etc., but I know that they will not be located. I wish I could fix it and I miss him. The next couple of weeks are not going to be easy.