They just left. He took them for a 5.5 hour drive to another state for a college interview tomorrow. then, wednesday, they’re back on the freeway again for another 5.5 hour gamble with their lives.
I may sound dramatic, but I am a person who hasn’t driven on the freeway for over 3 years. it started with flashes of panic while driving on the freeway. so intense that my body flushed hot and my hands felt instantly swollen. worse, i felt like i couldn’t control my hands. and that i was about to veer out of my lane. it was all-encompassing, and i couldn’t breathe. then it would pass. next time would be worse because I’d think omg not again! i started to be afraid it would happen. i started to plan what i’d do. i became afraid to get out of the left lane, because i needed to be able to exit the freeway asap if it came over me. i started avoiding the freeway.
I wasn’t safe. i started getting the panic on highways, going 45 mph. compulsive thoughts would take over my mind, and i would imagine veering into ditches or trees, imagine in greattt. detail. it was excruciating and terrifying. many times i had to take my hands off the wheel, steering with knees or fingertips, because i felt a voice screaming in my head to just DO IT! i was terrified my hands would jerk the wheel of their own volition, or some part of my unconscious that i didnt have access to would make it happen! it felt outside of myself it felt out of my control. it became a significant part of my life: my fear of driving.
my therapist called this OCD. I bought some books. “The Imp of the Mind” was one. i went on forums and read about Pure O and wrote down other people’s advice. i integrated as much as i could. my OCD waxes and wanes, and it’s hard to tell exactly what, if anything, causes it. i have been able to drive on highways fairly anxiety-free for 6 months, but still avoid freeways and curvy mountain roads.
the one thing I keep thinking about is that it started right after my therapist tried to do that light-bar therapy, EMDR. she tried it on me to address the cPTSD. we did it once for a minute, and that night i felt really weird. a couple of weeks later we were going to try for a few minutes, but within seconds i went into a full-blown panic attack. i had never panicked in front of her. actually, i am a very reserved person in public and have managed to avoid “freaking out” in front of people except twice. no, three times. that time with her, once in the dentist chair with that horrible plastic flap covering my mouth, dental dam i think?, and once when i was getting set up to have an MRI on my head. they clamped this plastic cage thing on my head and were about to stick me in the giant pencil sharpener, and i absolutely lost it. it was bad. i ran all they way out of the clinic into the parking lot in they stupid gown with the back open and my butt showing! so humilating 😦 shudder just thinking about it.
do I avoid dentists and MRIs and light-bars now? yes. yes i do. and freeways. i am a person whose life is dictated by fears. im pissed about that. but not sure what to do. they say, “oh just expose yourself a little bit at a time, just a little bit” and yet i can’t help but thinking it only takes a little bit of 70 mph veering to kill me and maybe others. i do force myself to go to the dentist. i have had conscious sedation MRIs. but the freeway, its a hard one for me.
my therapist thinks it stems from this (but, idk): when I was a kid and a young adult. if i would be driving with my mom, we would be talking, as ppl do. normal chat for my mom often turns into highly emotional erratic rants. i have learned to disengage and tune out as much as possible because it’s emotionally and physically painful. she would be jerking her hands in the air (jerking hand–my fear of my hand jerking against my will?) and then, on many, many occasions, she would ask wildly, “what if i were to just drive in front of that truck?!!?!?” i will admit that this scared the shit out of me. few things can make you feel less in control than being in a situation like that. it was terrifying. and the worst part was that there was this enormous pressure to respond Exactly Right. she was teetering on the brink — or was she? — and my life depended on easing her back to reality. and i was a child.
yeah, it could be connected. idk sighhhhhhh fuck
Im Alone in a Little Boat in the Dark with no Oar and a Storm Approaching. this is how I feel with my kids gone and possibly in danger. taking care of them and protecting them has been priority #1 for 17+ years. their dad, my husband of two years, was an alcoholic, drug-addicted, and violent man. he was an unlawful citizen from Russia. he had overstayed his student visa. we thought when we got married, and surely when we had the twins, he would be granted a green card, or at least a work permit. but no. that’s not how it works in America! he was only granted a green card after we divorced and he was arrested several times. because seemingly innocent young fathers who want to work don’t deserve citizenship, but criminals do!/s
he wasn’t innocent tho. he terrorized me, beat me, and even started to abuse them, which is what finally forced me to escape. he threatened me constantly. his dad was the captain of a huge merchant ship that delivered goods up and down the coast every couple of months. my ex-husbands favorite threat was that he would steal the babies and get on his dad’s boat and have his mother raise them. this was logically feasible. and I knew if they got to russia, i would never find them. i lived in constant fear. fear of the minute-by-minute possibility that he would snap and someone would be hurt or worse, and fear that they would all one day be gone. my trusty hypervigilance kicked in, and i stopped sleeping.
eventually it was me who disappeared with them. when they were 14 months, I ran and hid from him until he could be arrested. he was in a deportation holding camp when 9/11 happened, and he told me terrible, just vicious, things that happened to middle eastern detainees after that. then he was just randomly released. he lived in the city, about 90 minutes away, and fell back into heroine, a drug he had escaped for a number of years. crime followed, and right after i moved two states north to get away from his unpredictable visits and constant threats, he was finally deported for these unrelated crimes. they were 5. so it was 5 years of ridiculous hypervigilance. he threatened from Russia too, and altho i felt less afraid, i couldn’t let go of the hypervigilance. i petitioned the school to block their names from yearbooks, i petitioned the state to not seek child support because that would give him our address. not like i expected child support anyway.
his sister, who speaks no english, emailed me once or twice. she said he was cycling thru addiction/crime, prison, and rehab. this made me feel safer. an addict has a hard time orgnizing shit enough to pull off sneaking back into the US. but I would say it wasn’t until the last year or so that i realized i could start to really let it go. they’re practically adults. he can’t really kidnap them now. he would have to try to reason with them, and he wouldn’t be able to convince them to go. we’re finally safe from him. i mean, we may have been safe from him for a decade or more, but i finally feel that we’re safe. that threat has released me. or, i have released that threat?
I do wonder about the timing. how the threat from my ex-husband began to wane just as the threat of the freeway and other types of containment and pain began to build. i understand how PTSD, especially chronic, affects the brain. when you’re so used to being a highly stressed state, relaxing can be uncomfortable, even impossible. the brain just tries to keep the status quo, does what it has to do to keep those stress chemicals flowing. understanding this has helped me to recognize a lot of the thoughts that were my brains way of “doing it’s job”. but i wonder if this stuff is deeper– i suspect my unconscious mind of this bigger mischief.
only once before in the last 17 years have my kids been away from me, not counting sleepovers and mini things like that (which ultimately I am still in control of). when they were 9, i let them go back east with my ex (the one i just split with), let us call him Mark. (took 23 days to give him a fake name.) Mark took them back to meet his family. it was impossible for me to travel because of my back injury, so altho it was weird, his family was super nice, and my kids had a great time. i hated to let them go. flying. being out of my care. being with strangers. mark, an alcoholic, being in charge. i hated all of this. but i didn’t want to stand in the way of my kids having fun, novel experiences. and ive always wanted them to have other people, not just me. and in the long run, it was a great experience for them. i clearly remember going to the airport to pick them up. i was wearing a typical outfit for me, some dark boho witchy style. i remember because i saw my daughters face as they approached me from down a long corridor. i became self-conscious as i saw her study me and i saw her smile drop and a disappointed look come over her face. she was 9, she was just starting puberty. this was the perfect time for her to see me as something separate from her and to reject it, to reject me. it hurt so much, but i knew it was healthy for her to push me away as she figured out who she is. i knew that if i could handle it lovingly and without judgement or expectation, she would eventually, hopefully!, come to accept me for who i am, even love my weirdness. and now that she’s 17 we have a great relationship. we are very, very different. but i feel like she accepts me, and i think that as she becomes an adult, she may even love me just the way i am. but it was hard for many years. hard to be rejected and disliked by someone you love so so much. but that’s parenting!
they were gone for 9 days. (2009, 9 years old, gone 9 days. weird.) this was a very interesting and harrowing experience for me. I remember i had certain plans for what I’d do while they were gone to distract myself. but within hours the silence became like this ominous force in my home. it followed me around, getting closer and closer and heavier and heavier until i felt suffocated. i started to panic. this was before i knew how horrible benzos are for you, so i just started popping them like crazy. finally, by like 6pm, i called my mom and asked if i could come over and stay until my kids came back (weak!). when i got there i was a little better, but i was so antsy. then i found a project, a huge one. my g-ma, who lived with my mom, had a million slides that my granpa had taken over the course of 50 years or so. he was an amature photographer. he had died in 2000, and she had stored all these boxes of slides. so i bought a slide scanner and set to work in the basement. at that time, the slide scanners only scanned 4 at a time. so it took me many very long days to get them all.
so two things came out of this. no, 3. actually, 4:
I was able to make thousands of amazing family pictures accessible for myself and other family members, who did not hate me any less for it.
I popped so many benzos that i got really messed up and decided to look into them and discovered forums online that helped me get off of them for 4 years (until i was put on a high dose in the hospital 3 years ago and havent been able to wean off them again sadly).
my kids got to make connections with a nice family who I think they still feel connected with to this day. if nothing else, they got to experience a different type of family, which has to be good for them.
my kids, or at least my daughter, got a kickstart in differentiation from me, which I know is healthy. i know she really liked/identified with (?) Mark’s mom who is wealthy and ditzy and marterialistic and barbie-doll pretty and super sweet — total opposite of me!
but now I have 3 days without them. two nights. this time’s differnt in ways. they are older, for one. and they have been more and more absent the last few years as they spend time with friends and involved in extra-curriculars. so, im more used to them being gone. im not used to both them and him being gone however. and with their final departure looming (college) in just a few months, something i dread no matter how hard i try not to, there is more significance to them being gone this time. but i have prepared. i have been reaching out to OA people. my #1 priority is to not turn to food, alcohol or pills to distract me from this challenge. i plan to attend an AA meeting today, and OA meetings tomorrow and Wednesday. plus im going to listen to program podcasts and text/call people. i have crochet and knit projects, and some binge TV shows to listen to while i work on them. i have healthy food in the house. the weathers a bit warmer so i am going to take the dogs to the lake as soon as im done writing this. i have a stack of good books and some meditation podcasts set up. i have some yoga videos on youtube ready to go that were recommended to me by a reputable indian friend.
I want to do weird stuff like meditate naked and blast old school dark wave and dance in black robes. im smudging the shit out of the house!
and I am really grateful. maybe it would have helped me to not cling so tightly, but i am so grateful that i don’t have a situation like so many people do: shared custody. specifically, shared custody with an asshole. the idea of having to let my kids go with someone i dont trust on a monthly or weekly basis…not being able to demand to be included in group texts like i did with Mark this morning, or to track them like i do with Life360, or to have to let them go when i don’t i feel its safe and the best thing for them. not having that kind of control and peace of mind. just a horrible thought. at least with my ex-husband — yeah i never got any financial help or a break. and my kids didnt’ have a relationship with their dad. these things really suck. but there are people in very similar situations who have to give their kid(s) up to an irresponsible jerk, possibly even an addict or abuser, and the law protects that bad parents right to time alone with their kids. so, as hard as things have been/are, i am so grateful that was not my situation.
im obvs writing a lot so I don’t have to go deal with life. but one last thing. i was trepidatious about how mark would behave when picking them up. this being the first time we’ve seen each other since he left. i purposely didnt get dress (pjs) or do my hair/makeup. i was friendly and superficial. he hugged me three times, all intiated by him. the first time he did some weird kiss/long sniffing thing with a slight, almost silent, moan. seemed affected, but it’s hard to say. the second two were more normal, and i was like uh, ok, tried to be generic but not rude. the kids were gone for the last one, he had closed the door so i was nervous, and he said i love you. i paused, but said it back just to be polite. stupid, i know. im sure it didnt sound passionate. its just he’s leaving with my kids and i dont want him having negative feelings toward me. idk i feel kinda shitty about it. it was just weird. also, he smelled bad. like old rotten garlic.
Today i saw my old therapist. she only charged me $30 for the hour, which was very generous and appreciated since i have taken on so many expenses with him leaving. she said her practice was not doing well or else she would offer to see me pro bono because she cares about me so much. this made me feel uncomfortable. when she offered to see me no charge two years ago, i couldn’t accept it. and i don’t like the idea of her caring about me, seems unprofessional, and makes me suspicious of her guidance. i think that may be just my trust issues talking, but i am not sure. i have never had a normal relationship with an authority figure, and i don’t know what that would be like. growing up i had no adults i could trust. i was responsible for the care of my little brothers, and felt it was us against the world. when i had my own children, i raised them with the same mentality. i always felt more like a big sister to them than a mother. i have a hard time inhabiting an adult world, as an adult. idk what im saying here.
my therapist listened for a while as I filled her in on my nightmare of a year, and then she got kind of tough-love on me, interrupting with, “why do you listen to anything this man says?” she was frustrated. i admitted that i realize now that i was lying to myself 2 years ago when i discussed him and the nonsense of our relationship and how i was distant from him and protecting myself. that i was actually only doing what i thought he wanted and telling myself i wanted it to. that i was just so desperately trying to get approval from a man who could and would never give it to me. she said she believes strongly that he is a psychopath and knows exactly what he’s doing. idk, maybe this is true. she said when you’re around someone who makes you so confused like this, that’s a sign. i said that ive always been so good at reading people, and he seems so earnestly innocent and seems like he really does care about me in his way, but his actions show something totally different, so i get confused that maybe he is just really fucked up and all the stuff he does is straight out of his unconscious mind, for self-protection or maybe to punish me for perceived slights. but that he doesn’t seem to do it consciously. it’s just crazy to think that i could have read him that wrongly. for 10 years. but either way, whether he devises his cruelty or it just happens because he’s fucked up, i know i can’t be around him. i can’t do it anymore, it was killing me, truly. and that’s what i need to focus on.
then she talked about her ex husband again, which makes me uncomfortable. I don’t like it when she tells me about her life or when she cries about her kids. normally, i would feel honored that someone would be open and vulnerable with me, but in this setting, it feels so unprofessional. i think maybe the reason i didn’t want to see her pro-bono is because i was afraid she’d do a lot more crying and personal stuff. like, she told me she had dreams about me, etc. it just felt super awkward. but, it’s a small town and $30 is manageable, and i like her in a lot of ways.
then I decided to go all in and attend an OA meeting afterward. i really did not want to do this for numerous reasons. sighhhhh. but i know i need to reach out and start making connections in order to be less isolated. on the way to the meeting he texted, “<3 have you thought any more about [college city]”. they’re going next mon, tues, weds and he got a really awesome hotel downtown. he’s insists he wants me to go, and maybe he’s sincere, who knows. one thing i know for sure is that i DO NOT want to go. i was clear with him before that i am not going. i didn’t respond to his text.
the OA meeting was at a church. I have trouble with churches, too many bad memories. when i went in i saw that it was only 2 ladies, both whom i remembered from before, both who i liked. they were really nice to me. when it came time for me to talk, i gave a very brief explanation of why i stopped going (trouble with the 3rd step– higher power), and the fact that I’d recently experienced a deep betrayal that led to extreme dissociation and depression. but altho I’ve gained 75 (!) pounds since i saw them last, i’d also lost 150 two weeks ago when i kicked out my bf of 10 years. clever stuff/s
they gave me their numbers and took mine and said they’re going to harass me. they’re really nice, and I think they get it. one of the ladies is 70 something. i used to hang out with her a bit when i went before. we’d go on walks. she’s really a wise one, but something about her troubles me, makes me uncomfortable, scares me. not sure what it is. i think it’s because she smells bad. like she doesn’t shower or wash her clothes. i know full well that’s a sign of depression, but she acts so chipper. she really seems like the cheeriest person. but she openly talks about how she always felt like she had to “have a ham hock around her neck to get kids to play with her”. weird analogy, but i get it. so she is not hiding the fact that she desperately needs approval. which would explain the cheeriness. part of me thinks that scares me because i don’t want to be there if she snaps into depression mode, because i wont know how to deal with it, dont want to get drawn in to another person’s emotional demands (ie my mom). another part of me thinks it scares me because i relate too closely. either way, i feel selfish, wanting the help, but not wanting to give it. wishing i could be an island. telling myself that not every older woman will be like my mom.
then this weird thing happened, which happens to me sometimes and i hate so much. i got her smell on me. i can still smell her. it’s been hours. she gave me a good long hug, but that couldn’t have done it, right? its got to be psychological? some kind of phantom smell? idk i have to go get dinner ready, but im going to change my clothes and pull my hair up and try not to think about it. ):
Life brings only good experiences. I am open to new and wonderful changes.
Before he even left, I started to prepare myself for what might happen. i realize now that i had been preparing for years, but this extra care did help. i bought books, a new yoga DVD, new underwear that he’d never seen or touched. and i bought a panda planner. seems overkill for someone who doesn’t work, but i wanted to plan the shit out of my breakdown/breakthru, whichever came. one of the sections in my daily pages is for an affirmation. the above is my affirmation for today.
I have a hard time with things like this. i am, like most people are im sure, of two minds. the skeptic and the believer. throughout my life i have veered between the two. in my childhood, very young, i remember thinking about this and deciding that i would be a believer, a daydreamer, and a romantic. or that i would fake it as much as possible. that’s pretty gross, really. one of my earliest memories is being 4 years old with my sister and a neighbor girl named Sandy. we were romping in our backyard with our dog, a boistrous yellow lab who had an irrepressible taste for stuffed animal guts, when I got it into my mind to climb to the top of the shed. i convinced sandy to join me, but my sister chose to stay on the ground reminding us every few minutes how stupid we were and how much trouble we were gonna get in. it was central california, it was twilight, and the sky was the palest blue with streaks of faint salmon pink on the horizon. from our roost on the shed we could see over the fence for the first time, and the neighbor’s yard was beyond disappointing. but i spied a streak of vapor in the sky from a plane — early chem trails no doubt 😀 — and i decided to have fun. i pretended it was an alien ship coming for us, coming for all of mankind. i remember deciding to act this out. i really got myself worked up. my sister was used to my nonsense, i believe she was an early prototype for squidward, but i got sandy really riled. we screamed and spazzed out on the top of the shed, and i grabbed sandy and told her, “this is it sandy, we’re going to have to jump we have to it’s the only way!” she said “you first.” and so i jumped. and sprained my ankle pretty bad. had to go to the hospital, etc. that’s why i remember it, i think. the pain. pain really seers things into our memories. at least some version of the experience.
I was a lonely, self-aware, observant child with a precocious streak that i had trouble controlling, even in dangerous times. i decided in high school to go along with the christian god thing. especially the exorcisms and demons and eternal torment. i was terrified a lot, and had some very weird experiences that i really can’t explain except to assume the power of imagination of a very troubled kid. once i was kicked out of my home and exposed to different types of families and people, i was graced with the distance i needed to look at my childhood objectively and see it for the balogna it was. and everything fell away. all the lies. not just the ones others told, but the ones i told myself. and i shed those lies only to live within the confines of new, deeper, subtler ones.
Cold Son* sings:
you will have your freedom then, and a brand new cage for you to be in.
I still lie to myself all the time. i keep realizing it anew. it’s so crazy. because i work on myself constantly. it’s a personality tick– i notice a problem or a weird thing, and i can’t stop picking at it until I’ve got a huge painful mess. i have been told by more than one therapist that i am “remarkably self-aware”. and yet i constantly deceive myself. and the strange part is, i somehow know it at the time. its like a shadow knowledge. later, once something is fully revealed, i see that shadow very clearly and know that i always knew. i see the mechinations of my duplicity, but at the time im oblivious. this way i can partake in my bullshit wide-eyed and innocent.
this is the two selves. the conscious and unconscious? i started by talking about how skeptical i am of affirmations, but how i also think, “fuck it, why not? brainwash myself? im in! if it’s not me, it’ll just be somebody else, right?” but ended up talking about the see-saw dynamic of the conscious/unconscious. i guess the correlation is that i felt like an idiot while repeating my affirmation today in the car, like a real robot dumbass. “life only brings good experiences” is some seriously twisted philosophical shit. and you have to truly believe in life to believe that.
but the truth is, im of the mind that life isn’t all that. like, take it or leave it. am i glad i was born? meh. am i afraid to die? well, sort of, the pain part, the horror, that effect on my fam, but being dead? fuck it, i don’t care. people die in so many jacked up ways. i hate knowing how people die, because it colors their whole life, this morbid wash just seeps into everything. all my memories of them have that gory factoid shitting on the whole scene. i hate that. and death is so unfair — diseases, car accidents, random crime, purposeful crime, stupid decisions that everyone makes, but for some ppl? bam they’re dead — that’s some bs! some ppl get taken out young, some die at the worst times and other people just go on and on with no explanation. to me all this says is that death is a joke. i don’t believe in an afterlife. but when death is such bs like that, makes you not even believe in life. what’s the point? why try? there’s nothing to hold on to. ephemera, man. energy candy.
OK, i’m ranting and not saying anything. basically, the affirmation annoyed me, but i did it anyway. i’m doing all this “stupid” stuff anyway. i’m torn because i believe both– nay, i believe neither. yeah, i’m just going thru the motions pretending that something’s happening. or will happen. or whatever. same thing as me on the shed trying to make things matter. same thing as all the roles i inhabited with passion and the games i willing played with my ex. thinking it was going to make a difference. were those “all good experiences”, Louise Hay? she would say yes, i know. but i feel like i’m just killing time, waiting for what? idk
wish i could express myself better today. on a positive note — no contact with him in two days so !
*this is a goddamn beautiful song:
Pro-Tip: best way to listen to it: earbuds, swings, twist around the chain as much as possible, close your eyes and lean back as you untwist and retwist and untwist again and again. open your eyes if the sky is beautiful…sighhhh so good
11 days is nothing. 11 days is a vast length of time. both are true. I feel like I have been through so much and that so much has changed in the last 11 days. it boggles my mind that it has only been this long. I decided we wouldn’t communicate for 30 days except for the utmost necessity, and yet i think it has been 4 times. they were at least 99% businessy. but now there is a possible problem.
my kids want to interview at a college two states away and tour at another in a neighboring state during the first week of winter break, the week of the 18th. this is a wise idea for them, but it causes a serious problem for me. either I stick with my plan to not communicate with him and let him take them, missing an exciting, memorable event with my kids, or i go and be fake nice, which is excruciating for me, after everything. unfortunately, i cannot take them alone because of my disability.
my son asked him if would take them, and he jumped at the chance. flying would be ideal, but at this late date, it would be super expensive for 3 to travel to two different destinations (like 2k). my son told him I wanted to go if they drove– he misunderstood something I’d said, but i didn’t correct him. because im not sure what to do. my first instinct is hell fucking no! but staying home will make me feel like a loser no-good mother, and i’ll prob be depressed.
besides this sudden stomach-turner, I have been doing a little better. staying busy, eating well & exercising no-matter-what is helping a lot. im listening to a book called, Life Reimagined: The Science, Art, and Opportunity of Midlife by Barbara Bradley Hagerty. it’s great because it’s written by a journalist, so it’s straight forward (totally non-emotional). so far, her main point is that you can have a satisfying midlife and beyond if you really engage with life. but the best part is, it’s not about breakups or infidelity or any of that stuff. however it does interest me greatly, because I am 42 and have been grappling with death anxiety since 2012 when I visited my father’s grave for the first time since he died in 1980. OK, i have been dealing with death anxiety since i was 27 and had a psychotic break, or nervous breakdown. yes, i think that’s when it started.
BTW. death anxiety is a fascinating concept to consider. My favorite book that addresses it is Irvin Yalom’s “Existential Psychotherapy.”
Also, I have not responded to my ex-therapists offer to see me in two weeks for $30. it is a doable rate, but her response was cold, and i ended things with her for a reason. It’s just that this is a small town and her offer is affordable. but, is it worth it to get therapy that might not be good? hmmmm. another conundrum.
however, I did do some responsible things today. i scheduled to get my car looked at tomorrow, i set up the college interviews for my kids, i emailed their school counselor about something. all of this on top of walking, yoga, & showering. these things were almost impossible for me a month ago. so i really do appreciate this movement in a positive direction.
socially: I have tried to but failed to attend several AA meetings in my area. I am not an alcoholic, per se, but i have an addictive personality. i switch up my addictions. alcohol has been my drug of choice at times, altho less often than other vices. but AA meeting are ubiquitous and the conversations had in those rooms can be incredibly powerful. so im trying to get to one. still speaking about social connections, i look forward to my friend and her wife coming overfor dinner saturday. it will be interesting because they only eat raw meat now, and im curious what that’s like. my son wants to try it D: but not me bleck!!! i barely can stand meat. and tonight i have a phone date at 7 with my old friend jake who i haven’t talked to in years, but have known since 2003.
so, there’s a lot of positive things going on. focusing on that.
Confusion. crying. screaming in my car. anger. more confusion. giving myself a very loud, manic pep talk while crying, angry, and confused. and happy. little bursts of pure joy that lasted for only a few seconds. I think maybe hope is a better word.
today I organized the closet and spread my stuff out. i know that the hangers will always be put where they’re supposed to be, and that is truly a very nice feeling. I bought a huge thing of garlic and put 5 cloves in the Roast. It was fucking delicious. I sat at the table savoring every bite. He would have loved that roast, but his gut would have killed him the rest of the night. But that’s not my life now.
“This is my life now!!!!!!” that’s what I yelled in the car. it’s funny the weird stuff that comes out at a time like that. this is my life now. i think it was a rallying cry.
then i listened to reggae which always helps. rastafarians seem to know how to talk about suffering in a way that is indeed real, but somehow uplifting. there is a lot of music i have to avoid right now. i think I’ll keep it to cherry picked reggae and maybe the ramones. that’s it.
I felt so energetic after that, that i decided I’d walk the dogs in the neighborhood. I hadn’t planned to, because i have a ton of errands to do. but the sun was out and blue skies and i felt rallied, so i got home and leashed them up and marched into the cold sun. at minute 13 of my walk, i came upon a mama moose and her two babies. when i first saw the baby jump up, i thought, “wow, that is one husky deer!” but then the mama rose less than 10 feet from me and i bolted in the opposite direction, which was thru some pretty dense underbrush and directly toward an open field. there was a woman there with like a dozen toddlers (a daycare?), and i warned her about the moose. i looked back and mama was still squared off watching me. no advancement! but the woman started screaming for the babies to run! run for the van!!! which really got me thinking, and i ran the rest of the way home.
when I got home i ate gluten-free uncured corndogs and garlic saurkraut and ordered several break up books. i also ordered Anne Lamott’s “Hallelujah Anyway” because that woman is amazing. And its spiritual, which is something I’ve avoided for years. because i was in a soul crushing relationship. i read the first few pages, and she talks about churchy stuff and bible characters and instead of cringing, i smiled because this is my life now. i do what i want. i can make up a new story. im not accountable to anyone.
his mom called tonight. she was crying on the phone. ugh that hit me. why did I answer? why didn’t i think about it first? make a plan? remember to always make plans for things like this. ask yourself: “what do i want to get out of this interaction?” write stuff down. outline. nope! i rightly ignored the first call, but when she called immediately back, i thought “omg what if something HAPPENED”, of course, and answered. she said she hadn’t talked to him, but had heard from his sister, and wanted to know how i am. wtf do i say. i blabbered something pretty generic, and she started crying saying she feels such a loss. she’s a nice woman. i teared up a little, but i held it together.
but after talking to his mom, it gets me thinking. I wonder which sister it was. he must be talking to them. what is he saying. is he sad and miserable, like he swore he’d be (barf), or is he thrilled and titillated walking around the city with a big grin and a bounce in his step looking for his next mark. but this is exactly what i don’t need to be doing.
a problem is how we left it: a trial separation. we did this to make it easier on ourselves. especially since I am still in his house and driving his car. all these strings. The kids 7 months from graduating, it was easier. we told them he moved to be closer to work. that he’d visit all the time and they’re welcome at his apt. but secretly i told him i would not speak with him for one month. i need space to think. to be free of the emotional manipulation, so i can sort things out. which seems impossible from where i sit right now. but it’s supposed to be hard, right? it’s supposed to be messy and terrifying and hurt like hell. and im supposed to do it anyway. that’s how it works when you want to become a butterfly after staying far too long in that suffocating cocoon.
successes today:
I did 4 of the 11 things on my to-do list today. one of the things was costco which should count as 3.
made a real dinner. meat and veggies.
3 decent meals, no mindless snacking, no desserts
made contact with 3 old friends and set up a visit with one and a phone call with another.
organized a little
walked a little
survived an imminent moose attack
goals:
stay off phone at night
just stay off phone for anything other than communication and knit/crochet patterns
Station H 