Where I’m Supposed to Be

First off, let me just state that in spite of the general upbeat feeling of my posts, I don't like being where I am right now. Not all the time, at least. I strain against this whole notion of being where I am supposed to be.

I can say, though, that I almost feel as if there is an unseen force holding me in place, telling me to look, and look hard. To completely experience what I am experiencing and to fully understand it. When I am not fighting this sensation, I do understand, really. Or at least I think I do. I am a writer. Writers need to go through experiences to be able to document them through their writing, whether it's through a novel, a poem or a script. I can't imagine fully how my characters feel if I don't feel that way myself. Yes, imagination should be the driving force behind most creative writing, but nothing brings truth to a piece like good, old-fashioned experience.

So, okay, I get it. I am supposed to hit this hard financial rock bottom place so I can create characters who have experienced the same, have known what it is like to live without. I think or wonder if maybe that's another part of this whole epiphany thing (and let me must say that these life-changing awakenings would be a lot better to understand if they came with a manual, instead of leaving those of us who go through them to feel like they are foundering in the dark.) I am here, living this life, so I can understand others who are doing the same – others who I may write about, or possibly others who I may work with at some point in the future. This is my life path, I guess.

I just wish, sometimes, that my life path was understanding how millionaires live.

Changing Seasons

When I started writing this blog/journal, it was July and hot. I remember sweltering in the heat as I waited for the bus each day. I felt we were lucky when the bus would actually make it all the way without breaking down because of the heat.

Now it is winter and bitter cold. We've had snow all weekend – the whole landscape has been covered with at least a foot of snow. I spent a good part of this weekend cleaning off the driveway and trying to just stay warm!

Amazing how things change in the course of a few months. In the summer, I thought I would never cool down enough to be comfortable. In the summer, I had no idea how I would pay my bills, take care of my house, take care of everything. In the summer I wondered if I would ever be happy again.

And now here I am, almost six months later, half a year away. Yes, I am freezing my tush off, but I have heat, I have wood for the stove. I am learning each day how to keep up with my bill payments, how to try to keep my head above water. And in spite of all this, all these things that would have gotten me down in the past, I am happy, happier than I have ever been in my life. I am happy with someone – much happier than I was before I started this journal. I am where I am supposed to be.

An Epiphany

I had what one of my former bosses would call an epiphany this morning. Now anyone who hasn't had one, let me tell you that, yes, it does actually seem like it is coming to you from the skies (the way they always show it in the movies) although there is no angelic music accompanying it (at least not with mine).

Let me explain. I had been mulling around in my mind some events that have been happening and/or I have been working on. First and foremost in my mind is my Manifesto for class which I need to turn in very, very soon. My manifesto is based on giving power to the powerless by teaching them to use their creative/writing talents to give a voice to their stories. I have also been working on my health care play which actually does the same thing (gives voice to the stories of those who need health care). And in doing so, I have been talking to a lot of people. Recently, I have been getting very good feedback and interest in my project, and I know when I keep hearing the same thing, it means something. So I sat and thought about it, and the epiphany came to me. I need to write a grant proposal and I need to start it soon.

Why is this so important? Right now, there is a great deal of interest in health care, helping others, etc. due to the new presidential administration (coming in January). This is finally the time to work with governmental resources to find ways to reach out and help others. And this is what I want to do. It all fits together perfectly – I can't believe I didn't think of it sooner!

So, I know what I will be doing in the next coming months and I have a better idea of what I will or at least should be doing with my degree. I finally have clarity!

A Rock and A Hard Place

It's the holiday season again, and, as always, money is tight. This season it's tighter than usual, because things haven't turned quite around yet (plus, having the car die – well, that didn't exactly help.) Normally seeing those commercials for the season with all the happy families, presents, etc. would make me depressed. But this season I've just decided to ignore those, and focus on finding some way to pay my bills. If I can keep the house, and pay the electric and put food on the table – well, then I'm happy. Spending time with those two people who mean the most to me – my son and my "significant other" – is my Christmas present to myself.

That doesn't mean I don't stop worry about the money, though, try as I may. I've decided I will need to sell not only the old wedding ring, but the old engagement ring in order to pay the bills and have enough to get me into January. I don't know why selling the engagement ring is so hard for me. If it were a car, I'd sell it in a minute. Hell, if I could sell the house I'd do it and be done with all this crap. But I've been holding on to that stupid ring for, I don't know, sentimental reasons, I guess. I really don't know why. I think I keep remembering how much he sacrificed to pay for that ring; how he ate soup and macaroni and cut all his expenses just so he could buy it.

But, as hard as it is, I have to remember that part of my life is dead and gone. If he were really still concerned about me or the ring, he'd contact me (and I haven't heard from him in over a month now.

So I wonder - maybe this is a test. Selling the ring will put the past to rest and help me move on. One good sign – I've stopped crying when I think about having to sell it. That's probably a good thing. I'll just take it in tomorrow and see how it goes.

Sitting Still

I think I've already mentioned the butter melting metaphor (i.e., butter not melting fast enough as a metaphor for my impatience with things not going "well" in my life). I'm in that place again. I know it, and I guess, at least, it's a good thing that I am realizing it now.

The worst part of this, being in this place that I don't like, isn't being there. It's that I am counting the days until I get out of this place, rather than accepting where I am and trying to learn something from the situation. Yeah, it's not fun, but I know (and I am realizing more and more) that I am a very ingenious person. And I know that things are not all bad. For example, in the space of one month, I have had two invitations to be part of conferences in my area (one happening this March and the other next fall). That's a big thing for someone who hasn't even graduated yet. When I am in a good place, I look at those invitations and realize where I am heading, what an adventure I am starting. Could this have happened if I hadn't made the sacrifice to go back to school? Doubtful, very doubtful.

These are the doors that open up, sometimes when we don't realize they are opening up. I can sit here and feel sorry for myself all I want. Or I can sit very still and watch my life unfold in a way that I could never have planned myself or imagined.

Rock in the Road or Stepping Stone?

One of my friends from college posted an inspirational message on his Facebook page. It's about not giving up when life seems impossible, and realizing what seems like a hardship is actually an opportunity. The line that sticks out for me is that a rock in the road of life may actually be a stepping stone.

I've been going through some difficult times – witness my other posts and the video from Call to Action that I just put up on this blog (ain't technology great!) And I've been caught up in worry and fear because of all this…stuff. But I've also had a great deal of opportunities come my way recently; possibilities that I probably wouldn't have if I hadn't made sacrifices and gone back to school. Even though I'm driving a crappy car right now and I'm dodging creditors, I know, because of these opportunities, my future will be much brighter.

And these hardships, these rocks so to speak? These are learning experiences; these are inspiration for my writing. These are the stepping stones for my career.

Putting My Blue Cape On

My last husband would tell me that when I was in fight mode, taking on a cause, I was "putting my blue cape on." That was his expression that meant I was becoming my superpowered alter ego, Super Blue Cape Woman. Usually this meant that I was taking on too much, and maybe I should just take it easy, stop fighting the impossible fight. And I would back down, a bit, but never completely.

I'm older and more tired, but I still put the cape on, as I am now putting on the cape, taking on an impossible fight in my life. However, now having been drained by the experience of taking this all on myself, I now know how to enlist the help of others. I think I now have a new super powerful weapon – the net, which I cast out in all directions, to all resources. I learned this summer when you cast this net out far enough, you can get help in the least expected places. I haven't gotten that help yet, but that doesn't mean I am going to stop trying. I think because there are fewer and fewer super resources out there, I just need to keep casting further and further.

Thank goodness I'm Super Blue Cape Woman. Otherwise I don't think I'd have the stamina to sustain this fight.

Getting My Point Across

A good friend of mine, a mentor, told me that breaking in new relationships is difficult because we hold on to our old behaviors, hoping the new person in our life will immediately understand and react the way other people in our lives have reacted. She told me about the early days with her husband and what she referred to as the "pouting couch." When things weren't going his way, and he wasn't successful in getting his point across to her, he would go to the couch – the pouting couch. One day after they talked about this behavior, it became clear to her that he went and pouted because she wasn't behaving in the same way that his mother did when he was upset. Eventually, after talking, they reached a middle ground where she would listen to him, and, while not always giving him his way (as his mother had done), she would offer more understanding. And that was enough.

Sometimes it's tough to put into words what we want, because we expect the other person to know. Even my mother had a hard time with me – she felt I was too sensitive, and if I would get upset about something, she'd give the usual line that that's the way life is, and people have it tougher than you. Of course, this didn't make me feel better. It wasn't until I got a little older that she found that the secret was to hug me, tell me that, yeah, life sucks sometimes and it's just not fair, is it? And then she would make me laugh. Sometimes she would be way off in her assessment of some situation (like telling me that my ex left me because I was not longer able to support him financially), but even across the miles she could cheer me up and make me laugh. I know that she would like to fix all my problems, but both she and I knew that this just wasn't possible, so just listening and understanding and knowing what it feels like when everything seems to be hitting at once and the walls feel as if they are closing in on you was just enough. And making me laugh – that was the salve I needed the most.

Like a Child

I can imagine that I must be exhausting to you. Like a child sometimes. I get crumbs everywhere, and I don't even realize they're on me. I surround myself with pets that I often don't have time to take care of myself. I cry for no good reason. I'm still in school – at my age, I'm still in school! I may own my house, but I have a hard time taking care of it. I don't even drive a decent car, for God's sake! How annoying that must be! It's no wonder you sometimes think I should be with someone younger. I probably wear you out just being me. Sometimes I don't know how I put up with myself.

It's too bad you didn't know me before. Back when I was more responsible. When I put in my forty hours a week at a job that I didn't like, but at least I was paying the bills. I wasn't chasing some silly dream. I wasn't this mid-life child – some grotesque Baby Huey in the classroom, someone that the kids would whisper about: "What's she doing here? She's as old as my mother!" Someone who was probably a lot easier to understand.

It's too bad you didn't know me when I was hyper-responsible. When I took care of everything. When I was the Wendy to the clan of Peter Pans.

Someday I'll grow up. I'll be responsible. Maybe I won't hate my job as much. I hope I don't, but I don't know. I just know I won't be where I am now. Stuck out here – in limbo.

Strange Things Happening

"You know, I'm hurting, too." This was what my ex wrote in a note to me, several days after he just decided to take all his stuff and move out. I had expressed my feeling to him (in a note? I don't remember), but this was his response. And now, several months later, I look at this and realize this was the crux of the problem. Because in our marriage, it didn't matter what I felt. If I felt bad, he felt worse. And it was, as he would explain, usually my fault.

Tonight I expressed my feelings to the new person in my life. And a strange thing happened – he apologized. No smart remark, no "oh yeah, well how do you think I feel?" And the funny thing was, I didn't expect an apology. I didn't expect anything. I just wanted to say how I felt. I just didn't realize someone I could be in a relationship with would listen and understand and not try to put his needs before mine.

This isn't the first time this has happened and I don't think it will be the last. It's just weird for me – knowing now what it's like to be in a good, healthy, normal, loving relationship. Strange but wonderful.

“What I should have said was…nothing”

Comedian Mike Birbiglia (one of my favorites) has a routine where he talks about making an awkward comment about himself/his bed to a complete stranger who is kindly holding the door open for him. He adds "What I should have said was – nothing."

I think I should take that advice to heart. In fact, maybe I should make it my mantra. Keep your mouth shut, Pat, and stop saying stupid things. Because when I'm not thinking, I say some very idiotic stuff. Most of it is just a harmless slip of the tongue, just the kind of thing that I generally step back and say "Oops!" and everything is okay. But sometimes something can slip out from this way back part of my brain, the kind of thing that I may have heard long ago when I was much younger and I'm repeating without the added ability to edit that usually comes with maturity, the kind of thing that could quickly slice down the tender shoots of a budding relationship. And I have to ask myself "What have I done?"

And right now, the only answer I can give is "I don't know, but I probably shouldn't have said that." What I should have said…

Change is Good

Back when I was at the end of my first marriage (or maybe it was just after, I'm not certain) I remember talking to a friend about my marriage. I'm not certain exactly how I described it, but it must have come across as "It's not all that bad. At least he's not physically abusive." I remember this because she had said she was working with women, and how sad it was that the best they could say about the person they were married to and supposedly loved was "At least he doesn't beat me."

For the record, I've never been physically abused in a relationship. My sister, who knows me well, knew that I would never stand for that. However, I have put up with a lot of stuff, thinking that this is what you did in a relationship/marriage. It's the convincing yourself (and sometimes others) "you know, he's really not that bad" after he's stormed across the street to find you after he's come home from work), to discover you actually talking to friends and enjoying yourself and informs you that you should be home making dinner. Or that you reiterate for the hundredth time that, yes, you know what a smart guy he is, because you have to remind him of that every day since his self esteem issues won't allow him to see it for himself.

So, how strange is this for me to be in an actual, honest to goodness good, healthy relationship! To be with someone who respects me for who I am and has confidence in himself as well; who can discuss politics and Voltaire and any number of topics without feeling the need to be pompous or belittle me, or to feel threatened if I know something he doesn't. And to discuss – as in back and forth, as in both contributing and enjoying this art of conversation, not having one or the other dominate. This is so freeing and wonderful for me, a new experience that I am having trouble finding words to describe. This is as much a turn on to me as all the physicality of the relationship!

In Praise of Good Men

When it comes to relationships, I've never thought of myself as one of those checklist kind of women, although I will admit there are a few things I know I want (and a few I know I don't want – in fact a friend of mine just recently told me that I seem very certain about what I don't want in a partner/relationship.) There are three things which are key with me: respect, honesty/good moral sense and a sense of humor. In other words, I cannot be with someone who doesn't respect me for who I am, who cannot be honest and who can't laugh at life in general.

I have found someone with those qualities and more, and I couldn't be happier. And, as I said, I think I found him because I wasn't going out looking with this specific list, which I think is the problem with too many people (men and women) who cannot find someone and cannot understand why. Specificity is nice and in certain situations it serves its purpose well, but I think that by keeping your expectations to two or three primary elements, you open yourself up to the wonder of discovery about everything else this person has to offer rather than discounting them because they don't match up perfectly to your list.

And I am enjoying the wonder of discovery every day. Rather than planning the destination point and being impatient upon not being there, I am just sitting back and loving the journey.

What Happens When You’re Not Looking…

I just got started dating again. Surprise, surprise! Yes, it was as much a surprise to me as it was to the person I am with. Neither of us was really looking for this – neither of us went out searching for a relationship, per se. We both just wanted to talk because the walls around us felt sometimes as if they were crowding in, and nights were getting too quiet and lonely alone. I think we were both looking for a kind person to talk with, to discuss movies or current issues or whatever. Just having another voice to listen to – that was all we wanted.

What we got was so much more. Isn't it funny how, when you are not looking for something you find it? It's that treasure that you lost a long time ago, so long ago you never thought to even bother looking for it. But suddenly, here it is, and it's even more shiny and beautiful than you ever remembered it being.

We've even questioned the whole experience – is this real? Is it really happening? Maybe, I wonder, we just wanted it so bad that we have convinced ourselves that something is there when it's not. But, no, nothing, not even my vast and expansive imagination could even begin to dream up what is actually going on. And proof of this should be the effect it is having on me. Me, the realist, no nonsense, get-to-the-point person (okay, I do have a great imagination as a writer, but in day-to-day life I'm more of a "just the facts, ma'am" person). I am completely, and fully immersed and I'm having, as they say, the time of my life.

Flux

Flux is a very interesting substance. I worked with it when I used to try to make stained glass pieces (pieces being the operative word here – that's about how they ended up). But flux is this stuff that starts out sort of like metal until you heat it. Then in becomes a liquid that is carefully positioned between metal pieces to join them together, which it actually does once it cools.

Because I've worked with it, I understand the use of the metaphorical use of the term flux as in "My life is in flux right now." My life is, actually, in a state of flux right now. Not the somewhat soft metal that it starts out as or the hardened joint connector, but the liquid in-between stage. I know I am not where I am going to be, nor am I this ambiguous, semi-soft being that I was. I am in a deciding sort of mode. I need to remember that I can stay in this state for as long as I need, until I am ready to become the person I will be, and find the purpose in my life that I will have. I'm not there yet, but I know that I will be. One day.

No, I Mean It!

One of the benefits of this whole separation mess is that I am getting better at defining myself and my needs, and setting boundaries. A big issue in all my relationships, and especially in this last one, was that I kept giving in a little at a time, until the person that I really am disappeared and became the person that they expected me to be.

However (and I'll admit on the surface this sounds a bit masochistic on my part), having been chewed up and spit out was actually a good experience for me. It made me get mad enough to say "No more!" It made me sit down and think and define who I am, what I want, and what I will no longer put up with. It made me realize that being nice is not always right, and putting my foot down and saying "No, I don't like that!" may not make the other person happy but it shows my limits and I'm glad for that!

I think this new me is going to do a lot better. I can just sense it.

Organizing

Perhaps it's an innate thing – this feeling that I need to organize once summer turns to fall. Even though it's not even September, I am sensing this need to put things in order before, I don't know, before it's too late, I guess.

Today is about cleaning. I am planning on cleaning a bit more around here. Not just the usual dishes, sweep the floor, etc. I want to start throwing out stuff that I have put off throwing out. I want to put away things I have put off putting away. I think I desire change or some control of my environment, I suppose.

Where am I mentally? I guess I'm cleaning, too. The past is past. I am trying to stay in the present, but I am working towards my new future.

I Just Had to Write

I have been so bad about writing here lately. I'll admit – I get caught up watching the Olympics and I don't want to do anything else!

But I needed to write today to express my gratitude. I am so grateful that I was able to work through my fear (with the help of a Greater Power) and make some difficult phone calls. And I found out, after making the calls, that things aren't as bad as I thought! I am so glad that I kept my head, and kept a good attitude, and made those calls (regarding some tax issues with the house). What I thought would be an impossible situation to overcome turned out to be a workable situation. I just needed to stay calm, and I got the information I needed.

I am so grateful, I just needed to send out a great big thanks and make sure I put it into writing!

Forgiveness and Understanding

I thought that forgiveness was all about saying "That's okay" and allowing someone back into your life. And so, I have been certain that it would take a very long time for me to forgive Tom.

But I am becoming away that doing this, saying things are okay and trying to go back to the way things used to be is not forgiveness. Forgiveness is healthy. This is not healthy. It is putting myself back into the position of doormat.

What forgiveness is really about (or at least I think this is right – I'm not exactly an expert!) is saying "Yes, I understand now" and going on with my life and allowing the other person to go on with theirs. I understand what a difficult life he has had, but I also understand it is his journey and he is the one in charge of deciding what he will do with his life, not me. Letting go of that is the most difficult thing to do, and yet, I am seeing, it is the most freeing thing for me. The more I let go, the better I feel. I guess that means I am letting go of the anger, too, which means I am allowing in understanding. That is forgiveness.

Better to have Loved and Lost…

I've been looking at both sides of that equation. You know the saying: "Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." Sometimes I disagree with it. I think I wouldn't be going through all this pain if I had never loved.

But then, I look at the other side. Pain is an important part of the whole love equation. Feeling pain means I am learning something. Sometimes knowledge is painful. I need to feel it and work through it and understand it to get to the other side of the lesson – the side of understanding.

It's what I tell myself when I'm really down. Yes, this sucks. Right now, it really sucks. Some days it sucks more – some days less. But I can keep reminding myself that this suckage is bringing me to something better in the long run, eventually.

Say What You Mean

Whew! I just wrote an e-mail to the ex (or is he just merely estranged right now? And how does Elizabeth Taylor keep track? I, mean, I'm just wondering). I said a lot of stuff that I have been holding inside me since he left (some of it since before he left). And I said it in the most honest, non-judgmental way I could, without trying to hurt him or hold back so that I hurt myself. And after writing it and reading it over and reworking some of it, I have to say – I feel pretty damned good! Wow!

I have been upset for the past week or so. I made the mistake (oops! There are no mistakes – my new mantra) well, okay, I wrote an e-mail to him because I thought I was ready to start a conversation. But every time he wrote back, even if it was just a short note, I felt all this stuff in me. I call it stuff, because it was as if I had all these feelings and emotions wadded tightly together and thrown back into the closet of my heart. And I couldn't really decipher what was what, where one part ended and the other began. So I wrote out a lot in another journal – everything that was confusing, everything that I felt I couldn't express here. All the angry parts, all the hurt, pained and painful parts, all the confusion. I wrote it all out.

And I think because I did this, I was finally able to write to him and put it out there in a way where I was expressing myself without ulterior motives. In other words, I was saying what I meant to say, but not using my words to hurt or to show him how I was feeling – I was just feeling.

And I have to say that right now, I feel a lot better!

There’s Caretaking and then There’s Taking Care

I am getting better at distancing myself from this whole situation and focusing on what I need to do. However, I still find myself thinking about Tom, coming up with ways to "fix" him. I find I get very frustrated and upset afterwards, and usually I'm not certain why.

But recently I realized the reason for my frustration. My fixing is my caretaking need, gone haywire. I think I am even more frustrated because he's not here for me to "fix."

And I know I need to let go of this need to care take, to fix, because it doesn't do either one of us any good. But at least now I know that this is what I need to work on in me. So, I guess, the point is I need to focus on me, take care of me, "fix" me. Everything else will take care of itself in time.

Write through the Fear

Monday morning. Not too good, but not as bad as it could be, I guess. I have to face a few more issues, and I always hate that. I wish things would just turn around already! (sort of like that saying, God give me patience and give it to me now!)

I have a notice from the post office that I have something to pick up. I am afraid it is the sewer tax thing – the same thing that they did last year where they threatened to auction off my house if I didn't pay it. Now at least I know that I can talk to them, let them know about my situation. I am even planning on going to a local agency today to see if they have any resources. I shouldn't be afraid. But it does hit me.

That's why I write. And why I meditate. And, okay, talk to God, or the universe, or whatever is out there that has been guiding me. It's the only thing to get me through sometimes.

Once I do that, I can face this thing and know I'll be okay for another day.

Failure and Success

I am inspired by the saying that "the definition of success is getting up one more time than you fall down." I was also inspired this morning by a story on the news about failure. It gave the example of J.K. Rowlings, the Harry Potter author, who said that prior to her success, she had failed at a marriage and was living a life just above the homeless limit. She told a crowd of Harvard graduates to define themselves and their careers not by success, but by failure.

I guess a big part of that definition is how you define yourself. If you see yourself as a failure, then you are one. But if you see yourself as working your way back up to success after being down(and I think I am beginning to see myself this way), then you will succeed. I think the lesson is how you see the "failure" – as a plus or a minus. I hope I can continue to look at what has happened to me as a fortunate accident, something that will propel me forward to a much greater success.

Pay Day!

Yesterday I got my biweekly paycheck. My usual reaction when I get paid is to slack off a little on the budget. Maybe I'll order pizza or Chinese food. Maybe I'll treat myself to some clothes.

But now I am watching every penny, literally living paycheck to paycheck with very little wiggle room until September. I think this is a good time to start training myself to watch my budget even more, even though I feel I am suddenly flush with cash. This is my trouble spot and I think this is the where I can learn the most.

While I can probably get the important things (maybe a new broom, or other inexpensive item I need for cleaning), I know there are other things I would like to get (new tops, for example) but can put off for a few more weeks. And while I realize that right now I have the money to go out and get my coffee at Dunkin' Donuts, if I keep to the budget and make coffee at home, that's more money I can save for important stuff.

Everything happens for a reason. I think the reason I am now on my own is to finally be responsible with money and learn how to keep myself within a budget

One Month Later…

It has been exactly one month now since everything happened that started me writing this blog in the first place. I look back and ask myself: have I survived? Yes, I would need to answer, I've more than survived. Survival in my mind equates to mere existence. I haven't just survived. I've grown.

I laugh more and worry less. I work hard and play just as hard. I am focused, driven and tenacious as ever – some of my best qualities. In fact, I would need to say that this experience has brought out the best qualities in me (as well as some of the worst – but I am finding that I am experiencing those less and less as time goes on).

How am I today? In a word – hopeful.

Fish – It’s What’s for Dinner

Okay, I have been doing a lot of what one of my creative writing teachers called naval gazing in my blog lately, so I thought with the start of a new week, I'd shake things up a bit.

I have been trying to be good lately with what I have been eating, and I have been pretty successful (if you don't count the half gallon of homemade peanut butter and chocolate chip ice cream I just made last night and plan to check out tonight). This weekend I found a fish recipe that is sooo good, and is so low fat that I plan to have it more often. The recipe called for baking the fish, but I sautéed it In a little non butter (SmartButter or whatever it's called – it's the stuff that Andrew can eat because there's no dairy and practically no fat in it). I used a Tilapia fillet (I think Sole would work, too) and after sautéing it on one side for about 30 seconds, I turned it over, then spread on the Caribbean mix that I made up beforehand (canola oil, lime juice, hot sauce, salt and pepper – oh yeah, it's supposed to have lime "zest" and that was a mess since I used a real lime and had a heck of a time grating it. Next time, I use the stuff from the bottle!) And then I covered it and sautéed it for about 5 minutes. It was great!

Usually anything low fat tastes, well, low fat (meaning dry and flavorless) but this was fantastic. I think I'll be adding fish to my dinner plans a bit more in the future!

Good Judgment

When I met Tom, he was in pretty good shape, emotionally. This was in spite of the fact that he was living in a small room at his place of work. Yes, I realize that the fact that he didn't have an actual apartment or home should have tipped me off that something was amiss. But he did own his place of business, so that was something.

He was also working on himself, something I admired greatly. Not many people, men or women, who come from a divorce have the willingness to work on themselves. He had discipline from his martial training. And though he didn't go to any type of therapy or groups, he read and studied and seemed as if he was starting to look inside himself for the answers to his problems.

And so, going into the marriage, I had to say he seemed fairly well adjusted. I had some misgivings, I admit. I didn't know why. But I knew that he appeared to be an easy going guy who was willing to work on his problems. And I was satisfied with that.

That lasted until a few months into the marriage he lost the business to his wife. And everything went downhill after that – the self-discipline, followed by the self-esteem, followed by the easy-going personality. That person was replaced by someone who was irrational, acted erratically and was prone to what I can only call temper tantrums (I would not call them fits of anger as he never yelled at me, at least, and was never physically violent.) I was married to someone who suddenly behaved like a child, and it was not easy. When I reacted directly to him, I became just as erratic and irrational. And I didn't want to be that person, so I tried very hard not to.

And I say all this not because I feel I am superior (which I am not) but because I need to convince myself that I did use good judgment when I originally became involved with Tom. The man I married was not the man who left at the beginning of this month, and there was absolutely no way I could have predicted who he would become. I feel a bit relieved realizing this, and also, I guess, in the "sadder but wiser" category as well.

All by Myself – Yeah!

I didn't think I would ever feel this way, but I am actually enjoying my time alone! My mind seems more open and I can feel that I am getting more focused in what I do, particularly at home. The noise in my head is diminishing – by that, I mean those endless thoughts and worries. Yes, I still have concerns (what still needs to be done in terms of Andrew's college, the mortgage and the upcoming winter/heating situation). But I've found that working away, a little at a time at each has helped a lot. It gives me something to focus on and each task accomplished gives me a much needed sense of accomplishment!

I also noticed that I am more comfortable just being alone in the house. When we first moved here, I had a very hard time sleeping when Tom was away. As the years passed, I found that I gradually became more and more used to being alone, and was able, finally, to sleep soundly when he worked at night.

I am also happier as I am no longer experiencing that onslaught of information that would hit me when I came home. Yes, it was nice to have the pets greet me and the conversation, but sometimes I just needed a few minutes alone! Now I get that break, even when my son is here, because there is this sort of mutual respect and understanding of that need for a break. We sort of talk a little at first and then once either one of us is settled in more and relaxed, we talk more. And rarely do I come home and find him in a bad mood (unlike Tom, who would be in a dark mood almost one day out of every week). When my son is in a mood, I know enough to give him his space and he is fine after a short while. With Tom, it was a minefield. Sometimes he wanted me to talk to cheer him up, but wouldn't say so, and would get more upset when I didn't read his mind. The other times he wanted to be left alone but didn't say so, so I would get snapped at if I tried to talk.

Ah, yes, this is so much more enjoyable!

Trust

One of my favorite movies is "Breaking Away" which is about a kid from Indianapolis who dreams of bicycle racing with his Italian bicycling heroes. In the movie, he is so proud of having been given the chance to ride with them in a local race, until they put a wrench in his plans – literally – and he is devastated. In my favorite scene (and the one that makes me cry every time), his father, who feels he is out of touch with his son, tries very hard to reach out to his son. He has to explain to him that everybody cheats. And his son comes up to his father and cries on his shoulder, having been hit with one of those realizations about life that hits hard.

Everybody cheats. And everybody lies. You just wish that the people you love wouldn't do it, because it hurts that much more. You wanted to believe a company could help you out, but, instead they cheated you out of money and you are left with a hard life lesson.

And you wanted to believe the person whom you loved when he said he wasn't going to leave, after you expressed your concerns that he would. You wanted to believe him when he added "If I were going to leave, why would I go out and get a dog?" And then he did leave, and took the dog with him.

And it doesn't matter how many times you tell yourself that this was an emotionally unhealthy someone, someone you shouldn't have trusted with the truth in the first place. Because the thing is, the thing that keeps you stuck, the thing that won't let you move on, not right now at least, is that you did trust this person. And he let you down. And that place, right there, that's where the pain is that just won't go away. That's what hurts.

Resentments

I've told almost everyone I know about the message my dad gave me – after he died. See, I had a dream about my dad about 6 months after he died. I remember in the dream that we were sitting in a restaurant, talking. At some time in the conversation, he looked at me and said "Don't hold onto anger and resentment. It doesn't do you any good."

I have to tell you, dad, that's a really hard promise to keep right now. I mean, I'm trying really hard, but I have these resentments that keep popping up just when I think I've lost them. I'm probably better off right now not talking with Tom. I imagine our conversation would be terse, and if it went on for more than a minute or so, my resentments against what he did would show up and take over the conversation.

I know I have every right to be angry after what happened. But I need to find a way to get rid of that anger in a healthy way. So far, I haven't found the solution. But I'm still working on it.

Self Worth

When I was a teenager, there were several nice guys that I went out with. I really liked them – they were nice, they treated me well. But I would find some minor flaw in them and in my mind, that flaw would be magnified until suddenly this person seemed intolerable to me. I would "disappear" from them – ignoring them, running away in a sense. I didn't know why I did it.

Years later, I wondered why I let them go. There was nothing wrong with these guys – in fact, they were decent guys. I should have relished the chance to be with any one of them.

And I always felt bad because I hurt them without knowing why I was doing it. In my mind, at the time, they had this flaw that I couldn't overlook. What I didn't realize until much later was that they didn't have the flaw – I did. They didn't know (and I didn't know at the time) that because of my low self esteem issues, I was wired to reject anyone who was good to me in favor of someone who would treat me poorly or was incapable of having a meaningful relationship. As the saying goes, it wasn't them – it was me.

This realization hit me last night, and it helps me on two fronts. I realize now that Tom, who I have said before had low self esteem issues and an adolescent emotional maturity level, is running away from me because I'm not treating him poorly enough. I often wondered why he stayed in his bad marriage with his former wife in spite of the abuse. Now I know it was not in spite of it; it was because of it.

As for me – this has opened my mind to what I have been looking for in the past (past being the key word here.) I have been working on my own self esteem issues and am realizing I deserve much better than what I have allowed myself in the past. This is something that I am now ready to put behind me. I am actually glad I have had this opportunity – I can now proceed with maturity and a heightened sense of my own self worth.

Wednesdays are the Worst

I don't know why Wednesdays have been so tough for me lately. Not really in terms of what has been going on recently, but in general. I am tired and unmotivated. I hit the snooze several times and I'm still not fully awake. I'm even taking a later bus today.

I have a mountain (okay, not really a mountain, but a substantial amount) of paperwork to complete and get in the mail for Andrew's college. And I have other stuff to keep on top of, too.

Just wish I could forget it all and stay in bed!

Taking Care

I had a hard time getting to sleep last night. It has been hot and humid and even the air conditioner doesn't seem to help (although, I'll admit, I'm keeping it on low to save money.)

But it wasn't just the weather. It was my mind – I couldn't shut it off. Not worry this time, but thinking. I kept thinking about what a friend had said when I told her Tom has been out of contact. She said he was "hiding". I have been thinking about that a lot and why he would be hiding. I found myself focusing very hard on him and the hiding and came to the conclusion that he is using this as his usual escape tool. It was something he subconsciously fell back on, and it was a way, subconsciously, to sabotage himself.

Then I started to wonder about me. What do I do to sabotage myself? Yeah, I'll admit, I've wanted to run and hide. But I'm not. I'm doing something different. But what?

This morning I woke up with the answer. My little trick is to find someone to care for me. I have done this all my life. I feel I am not capable of caring for myself, and so I run to the protection of someone else. And, in return, I care for them.

It seems like a good agreement. But it can be strangling. No wonder my relationship with Tom was doomed. I looked for him to care for me, he wasn't able to, and when I realized he couldn't I both over-cared for him and resented him on some level for not being able to care for me.

What an eye-opener! All this at 5:30 in the morning! But even more amazing was the realization that I am taking care of myself. Put the emphasis on the first word, and you'll see what an epiphany this is. I am taking care of me for the first time in my life. I am looking my problems in the eye and taking care of them, one by one. I'm not backing down or running away. I am facing them.

No wonder I am so happy right now and proud of myself!

The Five Stages

I can't remember all five stages of grief. But I can say that in the past few weeks (and mostly the past few days), I have been made very familiar with two of them: Anger and Acceptance.

I can tell I've worked on myself enough, thought enough, journaled enough to get to the phase of acceptance. This feeling, this sense of accomplishment is brief, fleeting, and quickly replaced again by anger. It's like being one of those amusement park rides where you look out, the scenery seems to steady itself, and then suddenly you are whipped around again by the ride. That whipping feeling is the anger that rises up in me.

I know that anger is something that I need to work on, not so much because I am always yelling and expressing it, but because I am not. I push so much of it down that it comes out in strange, often unhealthy ways. I have found myself screaming at cars when I am driving (although I do that less now, perhaps because I take the bus more often than not).

Where I find myself in places of anger now is in my thoughts. Perhaps it is not really such a bad thing to wish pain on someone who has inflicted pain on me, but I cringe when I think of the angry thoughts I have had lately about Tom. I will say, though, that yelling in the empty house and hammering away at my food with a meat softener (when required for the recipe) has recently helped. I imagine in retrospect these moments will appear quite ludicrous.

Right now, I feel myself getting back to acceptance. The scenery looks a bit more serene for now.

Success

Yesterday I succeeded in fixing something that Tom had promised to do weeks ago. The water faucet in back was missing a screw-like device on the top, which created problems whenever we needed to turn it on. When the faucet was turned, water would not only come out of the two holes where it was meant to come through, but would also come shooting through the hole on top created by the missing screw thingy. I remember Tom saying he was going to fix it, but since I was the only one who turned it on to water the plants in back, I was the only one made increasingly aware that it wasn't fixed.

So yesterday I decided to take the matter in my own hands (actually, the only real hands left to make repairs now since Andrew isn't all that handy and, besides, he won't be there all that much longer, so it's probably perfect timing for me to take on the role of home handyperson.) I went to the local hardware store – one of those small ones with personal service, because I knew I was going to need to discuss this with someone to get the right answer. And I did. Well, I got an answer, even though it wasn't what I was expecting.

I had hoped to find a replacement for the little screw thingy that had disappeared. What I discovered was that there really weren't replacement screw thingies. But, according to the helpful hardware man, I could Gerry-rig something that would involve a large metal screw and silicone filler. I got both, and, I must say, I am pretty satisfied with the results. It's nice to succeed at something. It makes me aware that maybe I can get by on my own!

Focus

I am having a harder time keeping myself up to my daily discipline of writing every day (along with exercising every day, which seems to go by the wayside once the temperature around here creeps up above 85). I have a lot to do, but I am having a very hard time keeping myself focused. Writing down lists has helped.

I know this weekend, no matter what, I have to focus on getting all the paperwork done for Andrew's school. We feel behind a bit at the beginning of the month, when we didn't know for certain that he was going. Now that we know, we both are playing catch up. He has been working on the stuff he needs (for example, he had his physical today) and I am planning on having every piece of paperwork completed by Monday.

That means that other things have had to slide. Although the house is still clean, I'm not quite as fastidious as I was a few weeks ago. Maybe that's not so bad – back then I was going over the floor nearly every day with a Swiffer. Now it's down to once a week.

My web site idea has idled, but really that was because I needed to get all my information together. Now that I have that, I can get to work on the site and the ad.

And, I really shouldn't be quite so hard on myself. I've been making (and, mostly, returning) calls, meeting with people, filling out surveys for money. And I got my materials together and applied for that online writing job. So, not so bad I guess, all in all. I just have to keep taking it a day at a time.

Laughter

I heard myself laughing out loud at something someone was saying on the bus yesterday. And it hit me – I'm starting to laugh more. It was a pleasant surprise. I may have been laughing more lately, but it took that moment to make me aware.

I feel as if I am making progress with this realization. Just as when I noticed that I cried less and began talking coherently, so, too, the laughter is an obvious sign to me that I am getting better, feeling better. It is an outward sign that things inside my head are starting to turn in a more positive direction.

And that's not such a bad place to be!

Wisdom from the Telly

My friends tease me that I watch way too much TV. (I usually counter by saying that maybe I'm doing research and one day I'll put my playwriting and other writing experience to good use and become a famous writer for a television show). But sometimes I get inspiration or at least some really good ideas by watching.

Last week, I kept teasing my son by repeating the mantra from the show My Name Is Earl – "Do good things and good things come back to you." Earl claimed he got this message about Karma from Carson Daly (and, yes, I know it has been around much longer than Carson Daly has even been alive.) The thing is I believe in Karma (not because Earl says so but just because I do). In spite of everything, I try to keep upbeat and positive and doing good things for others. It seems like it does come back to me in one way or another.

Today there was a guest on a talk show explaining about how keeping a good attitude will help immensely in this recession. I wholeheartedly agree. Sometimes it's not easy. I can get caught up in the fear. But when I get myself away from that and get more positive, life seems a little easier in the long run.

Getting Stuck and Back Sliding

I was watching one of those silly game shows last night, the kind the fill up the summer television season with their usual nonsense. It was a strength/endurance kind of game show. Part of it required a tricky maneuver by the contestants. If they didn't do it just right they had to go back one step. I watched how determined they were to get through to the end, eyes on the goal, and then wham! They were thrown off this device and had to start over.

I think I know how they feel. I have been upbeat as I have been gathering momentum, getting my life on track, things seem to be working and then – wham! I get hit with something that sends me back two spaces. Yesterday it was a small thing. I need some information from Tom for Financial Aid. While I fretted about whether or not he would be willing to work with me on this (I never know. As a matter of fact, even when we were together I never knew from one day to the next if he would be in a cooperative mood or a cloudy one), I got another little thing that set me to tears. It was a message that a text message to him did not go through. Now it was probably the phone company (we had this problem with messages in the past), but in my state of mind, it was him doing this purposely to knock me down.

A lot of things can happen in your imagination. I need to get out of my head and into my daily routine again; get myself unstuck and back on track.

The DVD Player and Me

There is a mystery in my life. I feel after all I have gone through, I am fairly in control of my life. For example, today I sat through an entire meeting and was actually able to concentrate without that feeling of confusion and irritation that has been taking over my thinking since the day that Tom left. I was able to contribute and focus. That was quite an accomplishment.

Later, in spite of the fact that I was working in sweltering heat (our office's a/c was on the fritz) I focused on my upcoming project and made progress creating training materials.

When I got home, I made dinner for my son and myself, took my dog for a walk and even treated myself to a small ice cream cone. I did some work on line and chose to reward myself by taking some time to watch a movie. I started up the DVD player, put the movie in, and tried to remember what combination of buttons to push on the remote. And I pushed - and I got…nothing. I pushed some more buttons – still nothing. I turned everything off, turned it back on, pushed some buttons. Nothing.

This DVD player is the bane of my existence. Everyone else in the house (which now means just my son) has absolutely no trouble getting it to work. I work with computers all day. I should have no problems with another piece of technology. But something about the way the player is set up or wired or whatever does not make sense to me. I can't figure it out. It aggravates me to the point that I have, on occasion, thrown the remote (yes, that was me.)

I will not let this piece of machinery get the better of me. Even if it means that I have Andrew write out detailed instructions for me to follow, I will learn how to use this thing. Yes, no matter what it takes, I will not let this get the better of me.

Taking My Time

Since I have started working with the bank on my mortgage options, and have picked up other job offers and possibilities of job offers, I am a little less stressed about my future, and am feeling a little more relieved and relaxed. Because of that, I find I am working to accomplish things at a slower, steadier pace, rather than running around like a crazy person trying to put all the fires out at once.

This means that mentally, I find I am freed to concentrate on one issue at a time. Each day I try to cross two to three things off my list, things that pertain to one specific issue. Generally, these are small things; one phone call, for example or one letter that I need to write. The more I work in this incremental sense, the more I feel I am able to accomplish. I feel I am filling a glass of water one drop at a time, but I am satisfied with that rate, and I am beginning to see the line of the water in this hypothetical glass advancing upwards.

It has only been one and a half weeks, and yet I feel I have made progress. The progress is slow, but it is enough for me. I am beginning to experience relief and satisfaction.

Don’t Mess with Me

I felt so exhilarated yesterday, I even gave my dog a high five! I have been working with my son on his student loans for college. He has been trying to go to college and the whole student loan situation has been put on hold (okay, I don't need to say student loan this many times, but I am sick of seeing the same ads for cleaning and marriage counseling, and I thought if I put the words college and student loan I might actually get a change of scenery to the right of my blog).

Anyway, I came upon some information through a friend about having my son apply for a private student loan to cover the college expenses that I couldn't cover (which my ex – my first ex, and my son's dad would need to co-sign for). This would take the burden off myself (as well as make the college payment issue more amenable to his father, one of the cheapest men on the planet). I told my son that this would be the last chance; if his father didn't go for this, then my son would need to stay here for a year and work until he and I could both afford his school, which, I must confess, really makes my blood boil because his father has a six-figure salary and a house that is now fully paid for and he can damn well afford to pay for his son's education. But I digress.

So, I put the information in a packet for my son to bring to his dad. And, of course, as soon as he received it, his dad was on the phone with me, claiming he didn't understand the information (which meant he still wasn't willing to pay). But I wouldn't back down. He kept asking me to explain, and I would explain and he still claimed he didn't understand. Finally, I blew up and called him dense (or something like that) and I think he realized I wasn't going to give up. And then, finally, he agreed to co-sign my son's loan. And now my son is actually fulfilling his dream and going to his first choice of college.

And I stood my ground. I am so proud of me right now.

Help Yourself

I've been spending most of this morning as well as the past few days talking on the phone with area services, along with preparing the groundwork for future sources of income. There is a lot of work to be done, but I have found that if I do a little bit each day, it doesn't seem quite so overwhelming.

In addition, I find myself feeling proud of making progress through these little accomplishments. I told my friend the other day that I have found that being proactive and having a good attitude tends to help "grease the wheels" when working with different businesses (i.e. mortgage company, utilities). Granted, they do need to get paid – they are a business, after all. But knowing that I am at least taking on my part, my responsibility probably makes the process easier for them. At this I am only guessing. Perhaps I am naïve in that way of thinking, but perhaps I am better off being naïve in this aspect rather than drowning in my cynicism.

All I know is since I've been working with people, my future does indeed look better.

Resist the Urge to be Superior

This is the hardest thing to do for me. And though I am trying not to pass judgments, I really need to say it is the hardest thing for both of us. Being superior, that is.

The need to be superior sometimes is very obvious to the casual viewer, expressing itself in arguments, such as "Oh, yeah, well I'm not the one who broke the cable box because the remote wasn't working." That generally leads to something like "Oh, really! Well, maybe the remote would have worked if you hadn't thrown it because you couldn't figure out how to work it." And so on.

Usually, though, our superiority shows up in more subtle ways, as it has in our back and forth correspondence, which we leave for each other because we don't want to talk face to face. Not yet, at least. It could be an opening statement such as "I could go on about all the things that I am upset about, but I won't because it won't help" or "I wanted to express all my feelings in this letter but I decided not to because I know how much the written word hurts." Both of these translate to this "There are a lot of things about you that piss me off, and I'm not going to say them here because I am superior to you. But I am going to think them and tell all my friends and anyone else who will listen."

Don't get me wrong. Finding a way to release my anger in a way that doesn't hurt the other person is healthy. I know that. But I also have been in this game long enough to know that we both are using these "I'm better than that" statements as a way of verbally pushing the other person down, and with one foot holding down our opponent, lifting our heads and claiming "I am superior!"

It's nasty, it's mean and, well, let's face it, its human nature. It's not a nice thing to do, but it is, I guess, a part of survival. I can't say I won't ever do it. I can only say that I will try to be aware of when I am doing it, and work harder not to take the superior stance in the future.

One Week Later…

It's been a week. A whole week. And I've survived. I am even just starting to sleep a little better, not having as many of those middle of the night "jolts" that wake me out of my sleep and into the reality of my new world. It does get a little easier with time.

I don't have too much to say today. Instead, I have a lot to do and writing is a luxury that I cannot, right now afford.

More tomorrow. TTFN.

Like Trying to Buy a Burger at a Video Store

I'm still getting stuck in that area of wondering what I did wrong, or maybe if I did this or said that, the break up wouldn't have happened. This type of thinking usually happens in the morning, or, even more often, in the middle of the night, when I wake up with that realization that things will never be the same.

Then, around the middle of the morning, my full grasp of reality takes hold. I am at this point aware that there was nothing that I could have done differently; the result would be the same. This is because, I realize, I was married to someone who was not capable of thinking in a emotionally mature manner. In other words, I was expecting behavior from him that was not part of who he was. I expected him to see our marriage as a series of ups and downs, the usual various problems that couples work through together. He could only experience things through his own sense of inner pain which had been instilled in him through a bad childhood.

What I am trying to say is that, although through our own marriage he had experienced both the pain of arguments as well as the sense of accomplishment that comes from working through issues together, he could, at times, be overcome with an overwhelming fear of abandonment which sprang from issues in his childhood, over which I had absolutely no control. And so, during these times, getting him to see these problems as molehills rather than mountains became an impossible task. My expecting him to be someone without this emotional baggage would be like trying to buy a hamburger at a video store – just not something that he had available, and my expecting it was not going to make it appear.

When I look at what happened in these terms, it makes more sense to me, and makes me more aware that there was nothing that I could have done. Maybe this little epiphany will be the key to my getting unstuck and be able to move forward at last.

Good to Know I’m not Crazy

I talked with my brother yesterday. He's a psychologist, and I used (or possibly abused) his familial connection to pump him for information (I've been to therapists in the past, so I know the lingo. When I'm talking to my brother, or, I should say, he's talking to me about something, my favorite comment to say to him is "And how did that make you feel?" Okay, guess you had to be there.)

Anyway, I told him that I am cleaning, almost compulsively. You have to understand that I am not exactly the best housewife, at least when it comes to cleaning (although I make a mean apple pie. Well, specifically, it' a good apple pie, not mean.) In other words, my house would not win any white gloves tests. (at least not yet.)

But I've been cleaning everything, and I asked him "Is this crazy?" And he, as my baby brother, in his calm-natured manner replied, "No, it's not crazy. It means you are taking control of something, even though it's a small something. You feel you have some control."

Yes, that's exactly how I feel. My life has been blown apart, scattered to the four winds. But I do have control over the dirt on the floor, and the crumbs on the counter, and the fingerprints on the doors. It's just a little thing, but it gives me some small measure of comfort knowing I can control how much mess there is in my house, if only for a day, or an hour, or a minute. It's a small victory in what feels right now like a continuous losing streak.

Yes, I know, things will get better. If I didn't believe that, I wouldn't have used that phrase to name my blog. It just doesn't feel that way when I am facing everything at once. For example, today I talk with the mortgage company to try to save the house. I am going to the human services office to see if they can squeeze any more money out of their practically non-existent funds to help me, just a little. And I am going to talk to Andrew's college, to see what can be done about his financial aid in light of these changes in my life. Three big things that I have very little control over. I guess it is no wonder I need to clean. It's one of the few areas in my life right now where I feel I'm having an effect.

Sometimes obstacles can turn out to be our best friends

Although I keep moving forward, I still find myself getting stuck in that unanswerable question "Why me?" Meaning, "why did this have to happen to me?" And its ever present cousin "what did I do wrong?" That last one could be a good place to go, and it is a place most people, including myself, should honestly (very honestly) consider. Because, although I know that this was not 100% my fault, I do need to look at what I've done.

I know I'm not a perfect person. I had already been open and honest about that in this past marriage. Okay, I know sometimes I wasn't so open – perhaps there are things I didn't want to look at.

But I also know that after the last separation, I made a pact with myself. I would try as much as I could to do well and to listen to what Tom wanted and needed. And I did. He needed some space of his own – I said the basement is his (he, in turn, gave it to Mikey). He said he still needs a "cave." I said, since he like working on his cars, he could have the garage. He, in turn, pretty much only used it on Sundays. When Mikey was here. It became their getaway, and I let them be boys, while I became the mom, making dinner and cleaning the house.

And everything else Tom complained about, I tried to listen and tried to adjust. And I realized that as this went on and on, I wasn't adjusting. I was contorting. I felt as if I was playing "Twister" and every wish that became my command was another awkward contortion for me. And, I knew somewhere deep inside that this was not right.

So looking at what happened in that light, I can say I did all I could, but in the end, it was probably for the best. And I think that helps me to maintain as much of a positive attitude as I can muster right now. I must confess, though, that part of this being positive comes from the passive-aggressive side of me. Because, (I know, this is bad, but) if I can keep myself above it all and not give into the nastiness, I come out looking better in the long run (oops, did I just admit that?)

But then, there's also the fact that being nasty just breeds more nastiness. Getting into an argument over something from the past that has happened and can't be changed will not fix that thing that happened and it only makes one more angry and open to be hurt by the other's anger.

So I express some of it here. And I express a little more to my friends. And I release a ton of it by punching pillows and screaming at the sky (hey, I'm not a saint!) And then I move on, hoarse and sore but feeling a whole lot better.

The Definition of Insanity

Today I cleaned. I washed and scrubbed and vacuumed and mopped. I kept myself busy with this most of the day. Busy seems to be the operative word here, because I know part of the reason I worked so hard at cleaning was to keep myself busy in order to keep my mind off my whole marriage fiasco. My excuse for the full force cleaning, I told myself, was to get the house in order in case I needed to sell it right away. I still don't know about that. Nothing has been determined yet, and I know that it won't be in a few short hours or days. Something will happen, one way or another, though.

Cleaning served another purpose. It made me feel a little bit in control of my life, or at least some small part of my life. When my life blew apart on Tuesday, pieces of it flew away from me, some further away than others, some disappeared forever. Only a small bit remained; this was all I could hold onto. This small bit of my life is the only thing I have control over right now.

I didn't plan to make this a blog about cleaning. I started to write today with the intention of telling the story of the strange thing that happened to me yesterday that made me aware that there is definitely something psychologically wrong with Tom. This situation was created from a kind of insane thinking process that started in his head and, now I am beginning to realize, pretty much stayed there where it grew and amplified. It was not expressed to us, not communicated in any reasonable way. I say "us" because I found out yesterday that, at least as of today, he hasn't even told his son, the person (he claimed in his letter to me), whom he felt the closest.

As I said, I was cleaning up a storm all morning and into the afternoon. I had just decided to call it a day and take a nap, when I heard the sound of the engine of the car in the garage; the car that Tom and Mikey (his son) were working on. Tom had told me he would move this car (and another rusted heap of a car that lie hidden under a cover in the driveway) on Sunday. I had planned not to be there when it happened so I wouldn't need to see and/or talk to Tom.

I didn't mind the fact that it was going a few days earlier than planned. But when I realized that Mikey was going to stay and work on the car. I flew out of the house in a rage and told him he could take the car as planned, but he was no longer welcome here. Mikey was confused and tried to talk, and I didn't let him for a bit. And then I realized he had no idea what was going on. He hadn't spoken with his father (and, apparently, his father had made no effort to speak to him) all week. He didn't even know that Tom was unhappy or even thinking of moving out. Like me, he just thought he was being his moody self, and he would bounce back, soon.

I was all kinds of apologetic to Mikey. I felt so bad that I had gotten mad, but felt especially bad that he was caught in the middle of this. I think in that short time I suddenly could see that I wasn't the only one who had to deal with his father's crazy moods and erratic behavior. This must have been the same for him as the first time his dad left. I know the details of the first break up, but they were told to me by Tom. I can see, now, that I got a distorted view, from someone with distorted vision. I had believed the whole story as it was told by Tom because I can be very trusting (life and experience has taught me to be a bit more cynical).

And poor Mikey has had to deal with this even longer. Even though he was a kid when Tom left, he was old enough to know that this was not normal. Any yet, he has patiently stayed on with his father, never giving up, never leaving him like his siblings. He has put up with all of this crazy behavior: the end of the first marriage, our first separation, this break up, and who knows what after this.

So, for the first time, I really connected to the pain that Mikey has carried with him. And now it is probably too late, because I would probably never see him again.

Pieces of a Puzzle

I had a great realization yesterday as I continued to work towards by goal of getting on with my life. I have a lot that needs to be done (I need another source of income, I need to help Andrew get his college situation squared away, I need to get my house in order in case I need to sell it.) And each of these things that need to be done includes many steps, parts of the process, which need to be accomplished in order for me to succeed. And, I must remember, I am only one person who can only do so much.

So I have turned to my friends and my family. And they are each, individually one person who can only do so much. As individuals, they do not have all the answers as I do not have all the answers. I can't expect to ask for help and just have one step up and fix everything for me, just as I can't fix everything myself.

In the past, that would have been my chosen method or procedure. I would struggle away on my own, not seeking help because I didn't want to impose on others. And the way I used to operate would have been an imposition, because I would have just asked one or maybe two people to help.

So, as I said, no one person has the answers. But each person has some answers, or one answer, or even a portion of one answer. So, yesterday I said to myself ah ha! So this is how it works! I have a network of friends that extends out, and they have friends that extend out, and so on. And this friend may not be able to give me the money I need, but he/she can offer me advice on avenues to earn income. And that advice may lead me to potential options to put my skills to work while taking care of my issues.

I came to this realization when I thought of what I need to do to get this house in, potentially, marketable condition. True, even in this housing market, with a quick turnaround (and a low price) I could sell it now and still get a little back. But if I could just spruce up a few rooms with paint (as Tom had planned to do these past five years), I could get back enough to help Andrew with college and have some left to pay off bills and keep some for a potential future down payment. I looked at the bathroom – the first room we had planned to paint, because it was a small project. First the whole room needs to be cleaned (scrubbed clean, not just everyday clean). Okay, I could do that. Then the wall paper needs to be taken off. Okay, maybe I can learn to do that. Then there's the ceiling that's stained with mold. And the cabinet that needs to be taken off because it is broken and stained. And the bathroom fixtures that are rusted. And then, finally, there's the painting.

So, okay, I can't do this all myself. But I know I have one friend who can help me with advice on the wallpaper. And another with power tools who can help with the cabinets, and maybe even the fixtures. And someone who is good with colors and painting. And bit by bit, this room can get done. Not all at once, by one person, but by a team. Or a village, as Hillary Clinton would say. And no one person would be overwhelmed, including me.

One step at a time – one piece of a puzzle that connects with the next.

Things can only go up from here

The worst is not

So long as we can say, "This is the worst."

King Lear. Act iv. Sc. 1.

Yesterday I started my day a little slower than usual, but after a good cry and an inspirational speech (by me, to me), I made it out the door and onto the bus to work. I had thought I reached my lowest point, but, no, that came when I was talking to a crazy old man at the bus stop (actually, he was talking to me - I was trying to avoid him). I was okay until, after a line of questions about family and marriage, he asked "Is your husband good to you?" I couldn't answer - I just started to cry. He, then, either attempting to calm me down or, take advantage of my vulnerability, tried to kiss me. That was it. I thought - things can only go up from here.

Actually, they did. I spent the day pretty much talking with everyone at work. They were all sympathetic and helpful. I realized then and there that when you cast your net out to the universe, it fills it up with everything you need. My friends, my family, my coworkers - they are my universe right now. I have no idea where or how it will expand but this has given me hope and faith in my "universe".

As I told someone yesterday, "today I cried nearly every time I talked with someone. And tomorrow I will probably cry, but I will cry less. And the next day, even less." I know the tears are not just sadness - they are a means for my body to purge the seven years of anger, frustration and resentment that I have allowed to build inside me during the marriage; and the additional anger and resentment I carried over from my first marriage to a pitiless, soul-less man, the father of my son, who, right now, is being difficult about helping to pay for college for his only son, and is less than willing to be of assistance to either one of us at this time.

That is the other side of my problem - the second part of the one-two punch that wreaked havoc on my life yesterday. The realization today that I am not only without the person who I thought was my soul mate, my rock, my sounding board, but I am also without the financial means that I had expected to be there to make it through until the next year when I can be fully employed and financially self-sufficient.

But if I had had that means, and if I still had that person whom I thought I could depend on, I would never have been able to look inside myself for the strength I needed to pick myself up and move on. I have been through hard times before - I know that it will get better. What I don't think I fully realized until now, though, was that things may not just get better - they may be even greater than they ever were before. The future is wide open for me - this is the jumping off point that I somehow knew was coming, some day. I just never knew how.

Today is the first day...yeah, whatever

I got through the night, albeit with only about 3-4 hours of sleep. It took me several hours, then after sleeping for a short while, I would jolt away, realizing that the marriage is really over.

I should be used to this. This happened about 6 years ago, when we were just married two years. He left, saying he was unhappy. But at that time, it was evident we were both unhappy. Even though I cried for days, by the end of three months I was just getting used to being on my own. And he came back. And I thought that maybe we should give this another shot, even though I had misgivings.

And we really worked on the marriage. It seemed that we could get through anything, even all the financial stuff. Then things took a financial turn for the worse (spurred by the bad economy). And even though just a few short weeks ago we were laughing and joking, greeting each other when we came home from work with a hug, a kiss and a warm dinner, suddenly he says he's been unhappy for a long time. And I say to myself - damn, he's a great actor. And he left this "it's not you, it's me" letter. I loved that he said "I know you've been unhappy, too." As if he were in control of my feelings, or had any idea how I felt.

But I think my mom hit it on the head. Things got tough here - the gravy train was running low, so he hiked off to find someone else who would take him in and take care of him. So now he's someone else's problem, and someone else will find out how to deal with his meager contributions to the bills, his control issues and his mood swings. Not my problem anymore.
I’m getting ready to start over. Yeah, this is the first day.