Held Hostage at the DMV

Poor N.  No he is not being held hostage.  His driver permit is.  He has passed the written exam.  He has paid his $20.  When the driver ed teacher went to pick up the student's permits, the DMV office was closed. 

When he researched why it was closed during its regular business hours he learned that it is a severe air quality issue.  Apparently, several workers have become severely ill, and a hazardous situation was detected when testing at the facility was done.  So the permits are locked up in the facility, and nobody is allowed inside until the company hired to decontaminate the facility arrives on the scene.

I'm pretty sure nobody has seen a sadder nearly 16-year-old boy than N was yesterday.

We are hoping his permit is released soon.

Lethargy, Black Holes, and Meh...

Blah, blah, blah... Life continues... Blah, blah, blah.

I have neglected this blog because I've been posting on Facebook so much, so very, very much.  However, all my FB posting has ceased lately.  I haven't been to FB to read anybody else's posts.  I have been down in the black hole, and so much of what I want to say when I have the energy to post at all is not for consumption by family members or certain friends.

I'm as far down the black hole as I've been in a long time.  The trigger seemed to be Robin Williams' death, which happened not long after I felt that I was managing to crawl out of the black hole or at least closer to the top of it.  He was 10 years older than I am. He fought depression for years, with some measure of success, meaning he didn't kill himself, until finally that black hole swallowed him whole.  Why that day and not any of the days before that one?  At what point, if ever, will I, after battling depression with some measure of success, finally succumb to the finality of the black hole's infinite depth?

These are the thoughts that have made themselves resident in my brain the last few weeks.  So much has been written about depression since then or at least been reprinted online since then that I have had much fodder for my hunger for information.  No matter how many times I read it or how many sources report it, I still struggle with depression being an actual medical disease rather than a moral or character failing.  Having grown up in a family that believed and taught that you just have to buck up and deal with it no matter what IT is, I struggle to deal with my IT in any way other than berating myself for my failure as a human being.  Not only can I not deal with it on my own, I'm not even succeeding with the combination of therapy and meds that I'm on.  I am, in my mind, a complete and utter failure.

I'm sitting so far down the black hole that I don't even see a way up.  It seems the only way is to sit here on this very low ledge in the hole (I still think the bottom, if there is a bottom to the black hole, is farther down) and stay as still as possible because any movement might make me fall even further into the hole.  I don't, at this moment, see the possibility of making progress upward.  I don't see stairs, a ladder, or even a rope.  I can't see myself committing suicide, but if I went to sleep and never awoke it seems like it would be a blessing in many ways for everyone.  If I just ceased to be... meh, who cares?

Please know that I continue to see my therapist regularly and that I have scheduled an appointment with my psychiatrist for later this month even though I wouldn't normally have had another appointment with her until late November.  I'm trying to do what I can, but the lethargy that accompanies depression is a daunting foe.  Getting out of bed in the morning seems almost too much, yet I manage most days to do so, and to get dressed, and go to work, and take care of the essential things that W and N need from me.

I doubt people around me even really realize the depth of my depression.  When I do venture out into the world it is after I have psyched myself up to put on the face of one who is fine.  I don't even let my guard down around W or N because whenever I do it upsets them too much, and I don't want to worry either of them.  However, when I'm alone -- in the shower, in the car, in the restroom at work, wherever I catch that brief moment to myself -- I cry.  I cry, and I cry, and I cry.  For the least little reason or no reason at all, I cry as though my heart was breaking.

Would You Visit Me in the Loony Bin?

Why does everything have to pile up on me at once? I have been feeling completely swamped by life lately.

• N is having problems at school.
• W is having health issues, again (still?), and spent time in the hospital this week which he wouldn’t let me tell people about so I couldn’t get a great deal of support.
• Work is getting outrageously busy and will continue to be so until around May sometime.
• I’m trying (and failing miserably) to fundraise both for N to go to Europe this summer with his soccer team as well as for me to go on an international mission trip this summer.
• My car, with over 120K miles on it, has decided to become a money pit because it wouldn’t do to just hang in there until after the summer is paid for and over with.
• Plus I was down with strep throat a couple of weeks ago.

It is times like these that I just want to go stark raving mad so they have to lock me up for an extended stay in the psych ward. Wandering around in my pajamas talking nonsense and checking out from reality sounds really damned appealing right now…

Tuesday Therapy

Freud suggested that having a private journal where I write about my experiences and feelings pertaining to J, as well as other things, might be a good way for me to work through some of this. Hi there private journal, read only by invisible (not imaginary, very real, just invisible) internet friends and random strangers! Let’s see what tales I can tell today.

Yesterday’s session was brutal. I spent much of my time in tears, some of it sobbing, some just tears rolling down my face. I used many tissues. No wonder therapy is so expensive. Their paper goods bill alone must be daunting. It was bad that I had to go back to work afterwards because that meant I had to find a way to pull myself together and not look like a complete sack of shit, but it was good that I had a 15-20 minute drive across town to accomplish it.

While I have mentioned J, and our affair, in therapy it hasn’t really been the crux of conversation. Why? Well, since I’ve been seeing Freud J has kind of been a background character in my life rather than an all consuming obsession. I’ve had other things to worry about and therapize (not a real word, but I like it so I’m using it) about, such as:

• Getting my medical depression under control
• BJ’s and my breakup,
• W moving back in and my decision to turn martyr by allowing him to,
• My on again off again attempts to lose weight,
• My physical fling with M (Oh how I miss M sometimes, just from the physical release standpoint. A good orgasm occasionally is a miracle drug I tell you.),
• My ups and downs at work,
• My disagreements with W over parenting,
• My Dad’s death within three months after my grandmother’s.

Anyway, J came up occasionally, but never in any substantial way. Yesterday, he was right at the heart of it all.

 

One thing I will say for Freud is that he is completely unflappable. No matter what craziness I spew in session he takes it in stride never letting on that he might think I’ve gone round the bend. Why, yesterday he even told me that he doesn’t think I’m crazy at all. That’s comforting a little I guess, although what would truly be comforting is if he told me I was batshit (apparently this is not a real word either) crazy, and here’s the cure for it. Do this, and all the crazies will go away.

 

Anyway, I started with a rather detailed background to bring Freud up to speed, and really, it is terribly difficult to tell a 30+ year story in under an hour. You really have to do the Cliff Notes version, which I did, but I was also brutally honest. I figure that Freud can’t help me much if I don’t just put it all out there with as much honesty as possible.

 

So here, for those who haven’t read my blog in its entirety (And if you haven’t, why not? It’s fascinating and sickening all rolled into one, if I do say so myself), is a synopsis similar to the one I gave Freud. The History of J & me in a nutshell:

 

1977 – J & I start dating while in high school. (Yes, I really am that old. Shut up.)

 

1979 – I start college. J stays home with one more year of high school. J remains my “at home boyfriend” while I enjoy dating life on a major college campus

 

1983 – I graduate the first time from college and am “engaged” to a guy there although nobody knows of our engagement except him and me. I continue dating J when I’m home.

 

1984 – I graduate from college again, am still “engaged” and still dating J as well as a couple of others in other parts of the country (I travelled for work so it was easy to keep different guys different places).

 

1985 – Getting a bit tired of the “fiancé” but never broke it off, still dating J as well and starting to put a bit of pressure on J that perhaps we should get married and start a family. J says he’s not ready. I meet W and well, made one of the worst decisions of my life and ran off to CA with him without goodbyes to anybody.

 

1988 – Marry W after his divorce is final. Shortly thereafter receive letter from J saying that he’s now ready to get married and asks me to come back to him. Cry profusely as I read his letter and as I write one back to him telling him of my marriage. Felt absolutely trapped and unable to get out of the marriage to W because I was halfway across the country, estranged from my family, and totally dependent (at that time) on W financially.

 

~~~~~~and for many years W and TS live a life of ups and downs, goods and bads, adopted N~~~~~

 

2000 or so – God bless the interwebs and Classmates.com. I start to reconnect with high school buddies. Email back and forth with J a few times, just general catching up on what all has happened with marriages, children, jobs, and whatnot. And that’s it, for now.

 

2003 – Moved back to Midwest, within 80 miles of J, but no contact.

 

2004 – High school reunion. Made plans to go. Contacted J. He still lived in town and wanted to get together. I said sure maybe our families could have lunch together or something. He said no, how about just you and me? I said no. I got scared of what I might do and made up an excuse not to go to the reunion.

 

2006 – J contacts me, and we start flirting via email, then via phone, then in person, all leading to finally crossing the line “all the way” and have sex with one another for the first time ever (That's right people.  We dated several years in our teens and twenties and not once did we have sex.  Not that I wasn't willing.  He was just terrified of getting me pregnant, which sounds pretty funny now considering how "broken" the female parts turned out to be, like happened to his brother and his brother's girlfriend.  Lack of a sex life with J may have played a part in my dating a lot of others during those years.  Not that it excuses my behavior, just partially explains it.)

 

2007-Current – J and I carry on an ongoing emotional, and occasionally physical, affair throughout the BJ years and the W and me "reconciliation" and everything else.

  

Whew! Even condensed that is one damned long story.

  

Okay, hopefully in the next few days I’ll have a chance to write more and go into our actual discussion, short as it was. What great insights did Freud have to offer? What suggestions did he have for abolishing the crazy from my brain? What are my plans for Thanksgiving? This and more in our next episode…

And So She Goes. . .

TS2 told me this morning she has found an apartment and will be moving the beginning of August.

Hallelujah!  I think it's all for the best that she is moving out.  Tensions have run high between W and TS2.  She wanted to be part of the family.  He wanted her to just be a tenant.  They rarely see eye to eye on things.  I can get along with her just fine, but then again, I tend to be an easygoing sort.  Things don't irritate me as quickly as they irritate W.  N likes her fine most of the time, but he too gets irritated with her at times.  She does tend to overstep boundaries and has to be reminded to step back occasionally.  Therefore, hallelujah, TS2 is leaving.

Drat!  We lose the rental income.  It wasn't a lot, and we didn't charge market rate rent because we were kind of doing her a favor letting her live with us while she got on her feet financially.  Yet that extra $$ we got sure did help out in keeping the household budget under control.  Therefore, drat, TS2 is leaving.

Do we rent out the spare room to someone else now?  Living in a university community means there would be decent opportunity to rent to a student or a visiting lecturer or other person associated with the university.  If we did rent, we would need to be a bit smarter this time and do some things very differently.  I would insist we have a written contract, and that certain rules and expectations be clearly stated in it.  I would charge market rate rent.

Through the years we've rented to various people in various situations.  We've had good experiences and bad.  I kind of like having extra people around.  W and N aren't as good about having extra people around unless those extra people do everything their way.  I don't know for sure what we'll do.

Sigh...

Frustration? What Frustration?

Yesterday was too busy for blogging, but I do want to write about my session with Freud the other day.

We talked about how I can handle certain situations where I acquiesce to others to keep peace and don’t look out well for myself. (This aspect of my persona is well documented here on the blog and can be perused by you at your leisure.)

This week’s focus was an episode that happened last week between W and me. God bless W. At least he is consistent about certain things – things that naturally drive me crazy.

Here is our exchange:

TS – W, you don’t need to go with us on Saturday if you don’t want to. I’m just going to drive N’s friend home to LOH and then turn around and come back. [Note to readers: LOH is approx. 3 hours away] There’s no need for you to go if you don’t want to.

W – That’s okay. I’ll go.

TS – Well, to be honest I’d really rather just go alone. I find driving by myself to be relaxing, and I enjoy the time to myself.

W – You can drive by yourself. I’ll just sit next to you.

TS – [quizzical look; perplexed; unsure of next move]

W – [pouty look starts to form]

TS – Okay, if you’d like.

W – Okay.

So I seethed. I wanted to go by myself. N had already told me he didn’t really want to go. His friend was likely to sleep all the way down (which he did end up doing) so there really wasn’t much point in anyone else going. But no. W was going. Now, why didn’t I put my foot down? To protect N from his pouting and anger. Based on prior similar situations I knew we’d be in for several days of pouting until a day or two after the trip. Based on prior similar situations I knew the pouting would turn to anger at least once or twice during that period and would most likely be misdirected toward N rather than me because it’s more dangerous to vent anger on me. So… I sucked it up and took W with us… and, as it turned out, N because N’s friend talked him into going too.

I seethed… on the inside only. I said nothing to W or N about my frustration. I almost called Freud for advice but hesitated. What a silly petty thing to bother Freud about.

And we went on the trip. Three hours down, N listening to his Ipod, N’s friend sound asleep, W offering driving advice (because we all know what an awesome driver he is \sarcasm). We dropped N’s friend off at his house and visited with his mom for a short time. We headed home. I wanted to stop for lunch. W and N weren’t hungry. It was only 1 p.m. after all. Fine. I inwardly seethed some more. If only I were by myself I could have lunch whenever I damned well pleased.

Around 3 p.m. W and N finally acquiesced to stopping to eat. It was a good thing because we hadn’t eaten since 9 a.m., and I was starting to get a headache and feel a little bit shaky. Of course, I was only the driver so no big deal, right? (Oh, the sarcasm is really dripping now, isn’t it? Sorry, hope none of it dripped on your shirt.) I insisted on a sit down restaurant rather than fast food drive through to eat on the way despite the resultant whining from N.

After we got home around 5 p.m., I announced I was done for the day. I’m doing nothing else. Make your own dinner should you want any.

Sigh…

So we all took our turn acting childish.



I related most of this to Freud (actually we never made it to the stopping-to-eat drama, but just covered the who-goes-on-the-trip drama) and told him that I just didn’t have a clue what I should have done differently. He agreed that it was made a bit trickier since N might have suffered from fallout had I just put my foot down with W and said “Suck it up and deal with staying home.” However, he gave me suggestions of ways I might have been able to approach it to lessen the chances of that happening although he couldn’t guarantee success. He also suggested that if I am really feeling a strong need for a “me day” (and I am) then I should tell W that now and offer to work with him to determine a day that will work for both of us. This discussion is now at the top of my priority list for this weekend.

As much as W would like us to spend 24/7 together (he’s told me this oh so many times over the years) I would go absolutely stark raving mad if I had to endure that. Shoot, I almost go stark raving mad now, and we don’t spend near that much time together.

Oh, and let me just share a little tidbit of a recent conversation with a friend. She said (very tactfully I might add), “W can approach things with a bit of negativity sometimes.” She wins the prize for Understatement of the Year.

Frustration, So Very Much Frustration

I know it’s weird, but my mom and W are pretty close to the same age. Yes, that’s what marrying someone so much older than yourself brings – a husband and mother in the same peer group. Fun times.

They are both of similar age, and yet one is so much more active than the other. Neither exercises per se. However, one gets up every day to cook and clean and babysit and teach music lessons. The other occasionally does a load of laundry and plays a helluva lotta solitaire on the PC. Guess which one I’d rather have living in my house?

I have just about had it up to here (picture me standing in front of you gesturing with my hand palm down just above my head in the universal “up to here” gesture) with W. Now that he doesn’t drive he has abdicated even more responsibilities than ever before. Now that he can’t drive N to practice or to the library or to a friend’s house or anywhere else, one might be tempted to think he would have more time on his hands so that he might be able to take on a few additional household responsibilities. Not so! As a matter of fact he now must sit around and wait for me to play taxi driver on my off hours to take him where he needs to go. Not that he can’t take the bus. He can. He does. But sometimes that’s just so much less convenient than having your own personal driver who will take you, wait for you, and bring you back all on your own schedule.

It isn’t his health either. Although he had some bad times earlier in the year, an adjustment of meds and some other medical intervention has him back on his feet again, feeling better than he has in a long time.

So what’s his excuse? Well, he does as much as he can he says. He’s very busy he says. Yet N complains that W is always on the ‘puter playing solitaire. TS2 has mentioned how W seems to spend a lot of time playing solitaire on the ‘puter. I’ve noticed W playing lots of solitaire on the ‘puter.



Sigh. . .



The more things change, the more they stay the same.

Possibly Thinking Too Much

First, I want to say a big thanks to all of you for your condolence messages, here and elsewhere. Hugs, both physical and virtual, have been mighty helpful to me through all of this. No matter the emotional upheaval that can ensue from romantic entanglements (and you know I’ve had plenty of those) it doesn’t come close to losing a parent.

There have been a number of thoughts that have struck me over the last few weeks since Dad’s death, and I am going to share those in this post. I’m sure I’ll have more thoughts later, but these are the ones that hit early on and stayed with me.

I was surprised and somewhat amused at something I learned from Mom on the drive to the funeral. As we passed a jogger, I said what I always say, “Run! Run for your life!” Mom told me that Dad never passed a jogger without saying, “He/she must be being chased by somebody.” I found it interesting that, even though different, we both had standard sayings for the passing of a jogger.

I come from a long line of oh-don’t-bother-yourself-about-me types, and I have come to the conclusion that we are just a bit too much that way after Mom told me that she woke to find Dad dead in the wee hours of the morning but didn’t call anyone (including myself or FU) except the hospice nurse until after 7:00 a.m. which she figured was a decent hour for making and receiving phone calls. Really Mom? You didn’t want to bother anybody? Really? Actually, I can kind of see her not calling me as I’m a few hours away and not able to get there very soon, but FU is a few minutes away. I know he would have wanted to go over and sit with her as she waited for the hospice nurse and the funeral home personnel (or whoever it is that comes for the body). But no. She took care of it all by herself and then started making calls once it was acceptably late in the morning. (Though really, if it isn’t a serious situation don’t call me at 7:00 a.m., okay? Thanks.)

This whole oh-don’t-bother-yourself-about-me thing is something I have been dealing with in my therapy sessions with Freud for several months now. He said to me at one point (jokingly), “I do believe if you went to the ER gushing blood from a severed artery, and some guy came in with a possibly sprained ankle, you’d tell the ER personnel ‘no, no I’ll be fine, take care of him first.’” I replied (only half joking), “Well, of course, I could just tie a tourniquet around my arm and wait my turn. I don’t want to be pushy.” And now? I haven’t been to therapy since August. I screwed up, and didn’t get appointments scheduled ahead of time, and he got all booked up for September so I don’t go back until mid-October. Now, some might think that the death of a close family member would be reason enough to call one’s therapist to see if one could get squeezed in for a session without having to wait another month, but not me. Nope. Even though I feel like it might do me some good to talk with Freud I just don’t want to be a bother to him or his office staff by asking for special favors EVEN THOUGH he has encouraged me to do just that in the past when I’ve been going through rough patches. Part of me keeps saying “CALL! You need to talk to someone about this.” The other part says, “Well, you’ve waited this long so you might as well wait until your next scheduled appointment.” I will say that I did call my pastor the morning Dad died, and I did go spend two hours with her that day pouring out my emotions so it isn’t as though I haven’t had someone to talk to although I felt really bad about taking up so much of her time.

W and N were both real torn up over Dad’s death. N’s reaction didn’t surprise me much. Under his tough young teen veneer is a very emotional core. I know this. When he told me, “This is too hard. I can’t live through this.” I was actually prepared. I told him that I understand it feels that way, but that we can and will get through it, that we’ll always miss Grandpa but the pain will not always feel as sharp and the only thing we can do is allow ourselves to feel the pain in order to work our way through to the other side. W surprised me by telling me that he felt that my dad was more of a dad to him than his own ever was. He said his dad was rarely around and seldom did they ever talk. It was the first time I ever heard him say anything about his family that was less than glowing. It took me aback just how much W has grieved and continues to grieve the loss of my dad. I have spent a good deal of time trying to help both N and W through their grief, so much so that I sometimes wonder when it will be my turn to grieve and receive comfort from them, or W at least. In one of my less than stellar moments recently I even said to W, “You know. He was my dad. It would be nice if I could be the one that can be all broken up about for a while instead of the one who has to go around comforting everybody else all the time.”

My concentration level is down to near nothing since Dad died. Also, insomnia has become my constant companion which I’m sure doesn’t help the concentration level. When I do manage to get to sleep I dream wild, vivid dreams like the one a few nights ago where I was doing water ballet and having to perform my first solo. Strange.

I have more thoughts than time right now so I’ll stop. For now. More later. Maybe.

Looking Back. . . and Ahead

Found this meme and wanted to do it. I think I’ve already done it once in the past (as in a couple of years ago), but that’s okay. Since it is time based it will be new and different even if I did do it before.

Looking Back
Ten seconds ago I was sorting through old files on my ‘puter.
Ten minutes ago I was sorting through old files on my ‘puter. (Yes, it is taking a while, particularly as I get sidetracked by stuff like this.)
Ten hours ago I was watching a rerun of Criminal Minds since I couldn’t fall asleep.
Ten days ago I was working like mad on gathering data for a Federally mandated report.
Ten weeks ago I was sending the following email to J:
Ten seconds from now I will be publishing this on my blog.

J,
Well, here I thought you’d fallen off the face of the earth. I didn’t want to bother you since the last time we got together you seemed to be feeling like we ought not be spending time together. I miss you like crazy too. Although wishing won’t make it so I do wish things were different for us.
N’s doing pretty well. He’s in middle school now which was a big change from elementary school. He’s pretty much the bright spot in my life. W is still living in the house. We also have another housemate – a woman from church who needed an inexpensive place to live. I charge her minimal rent, and she helps out a lot with things around the house and yard so what she doesn’t contribute in money she contributes in effort, which is more than I can say for W unfortunately. I’m lucky to get any $$ from him for anything as pretty much all that he has goes towards his massive credit card debts plus he is pretty much worthless when it comes to housework or yardwork.
But enough complaining. I just take things as they come, day by day. I’m getting more involved in church leadership, heading up the worship committee and planning to participate in a mission trip (not far, just to inner city Chicago) in June. I find that the more involved I am with church and my spiritual life the better contented I am even when things aren’t all going my way. I’m planning a big birthday party for April 30, and you and your wife are invited. There’s nothing wrong with attending a birthday party for an old (very old now) girlfriend you know, and I certainly won’t let on that we are anything more than that.
Sorry that 2010 sucked for you. Hope 2011 is better.
Come up with a day and time for us to meet up and I would be glad to. There are just a few days that wouldn’t work, mostly the days when the women’s choir I belong to has performances. Otherwise, I can make my schedule flex around things, even if it means taking a day off of work.
Love,
TS

Ten months ago I was getting ready to chaperone N’s fifth grade trip to Chicago, helping with the planning for his fifth grade graduation, and trying to be the best soccer mom I could be.
Ten years ago I was still living in California blissfully unaware that the company I worked for would go bankrupt a couple of years later and change the course of my life.

Looking Ahead
Ten years from now I will be living on my own without a husband to take care of (I’m assuming, based on very recent events that I may share on my blog soon, that he will either be deceased or at least in a nursing home by then) and with a grown son out on his own (I hope at 22 he’s out on his own although I know there is no guarantee of that).
Ten months from now I will be in the dead of winter grousing about the snow and the cold and wishing for spring to arrive sooner than later.
Ten weeks from now I will be celebrating Memorial Day.
Ten days from now I will be looking forward to payday the next day.
Ten hours from now I will be catching up on some of the shows on my DVR that sat unwatched over the weekend due to the NCAA tournament.
Ten minutes from now I will be working on finishing up my monthly reports.

Top Ten Things I Learned by Having Pneumonia Last Week

10. There are approximately 4.2 million judges with their own courtroom TV shows.
9. People will sue each other in TV court for any damned thing, no matter how trivial.
8. Let’s Make a Deal just isn’t the same without Monty Hall.
7. My bed is really comfortable, even after 18 straight hours.
6. Pneumonia will drain the energy right out of you, making it difficult to even walk eight feet from the bed to the toilet.
5. Nobody who hasn’t had pneumonia can truly appreciate just how awful it makes you feel.
4. In spite of taking a whole week off of work to get over it, I’m still exhausted and barely make it through the day.
3. Naps are good. More naps are even better.
2. W and N are virtually incapable of managing without me, especially when it comes to getting places on time or even knowing where they are supposed to be at any given time.

And the #1 thing I learned by having pneumonia last week:

1. Until you get on antibiotics and start recuperating you don’t give a damn about numbers two through ten because you are too busy fantasizing about someone coming and shooting you to put you out of your misery.

Really Quick Update apropos Nothing at All

This is a scatter shot post – just things that I must say but without the time to really talk about them to the extent I’d like.

Item #1
I auditioned for and was accepted into a local women’s choir. This is not just a cutesy little community group either. This is a group that has four CDs published and has won a national award or two. To say I’m ecstatic would be an understatement.

Item #2
N and I went on vacation last week. It was the hottest week of the summer, and we spent it at a theme park, water park, and attending a major league baseball game. I may never be hydrated enough ever again.

Item #3
W is absolutely driving me crazy. Thank goodness I had vacation last week without him. (Actually I invited him to come with us but he declined. In this case, he was smarter than I.)

Item #4
A little more than a week ago I had a first round HR only interview for a local job at a global company. I am supposed to hear this week if I get asked back for an interview with the hiring manager. Keep your fingers crossed ‘cause this sounds like a good job.

Item #5
My hair is longer now than it has been since I was in college, and I’m actually enjoying it. I always thought old ladies weren’t allowed to wear their hair long, but I’ve always liked my hair best that way. Wanna know why I let it grow? J asked me to back when we first got together again. Go figure. . .

Item #6
There is no sex in my life right now. M moved late in the spring, and of course W and I have nothing at all physical between us other than the occasional hand extended to help each other get up out of a low chair. I miss sex.

That’s it for now.

It's Just Got to Be All About Me

W is home from the hospital. The doctors cannot deal with the xxxxxxx in his xxxxx xxxxxxxxx until they are able to get the xxxxx xxxxxxxxxx under control, which they mostly did last week in the hospital but not completely. He is on meds to try to continue the progress started as an inpatient. He has numerous follow up appointments with various medical professionals this week and next. He is grumpy. So am I. So is N. This is so not what any of us had planned for the summer.

N badly wants to go on a vacation this summer to an amusement park and to bring a friend along with him. I am really on board with this idea except I am afraid that W will want to go along with us {shudder}, and I have no idea how to discourage that without sounding like (and perhaps even being) an evil bitch. I have a multitude of reasons not to want W to go and not all (although some) have to do with me just flat out wanting some time without him around. There is, of course, the concern for his health, and even if we are only a few hours drive from home landing in the emergency room in unfamiliar surroundings doesn’t appeal to me, nor does dealing with the inevitable red tape of dealing with out of network claims. Not that it couldn’t happen to any one of us, but the odds go up dramatically if W tries to make the trip. Also, he won’t be up to trekking all over an amusement park, will have no interest in riding the rides or playing at the water park. Either our schedule will revolve around him and his healthcare needs, or he will have to stay back at the hotel room while we go out and enjoy ourselves. W will embarrass N (and to a lesser extent, me) with his general surliness to all those with whom he comes in contact. I’m just not sure there are any of N’s friends that need to bear witness to that.

Fortunately, N will be getting to go to summer camp for a total of almost three weeks at two different camps. That will be a welcome escape for him, a time to be with friends (and to reconnect with a girl he developed a crush on at camp last summer), and to get away from the stress that hovers as a fog throughout our house.

On another note, I decided and have told W that I am taking all things that he says at face value from now on. I am too tired to try to discern when he is joking, when he is hiding something, when he is deflecting, when he is hoping I will read between the lines, when he wants me to beg for more information. Nope. Whatever his answers to my questions (because, trust me on this, he volunteers no information so I get no conversation at all without asking) I am going to 100% accept at face value whether or not I believe them. Why? Because I am just too drained to fight it. I am just too tired to want to spend time weeding out lies from truth, fantasy from fact, fiction from non-fiction, and dragging information out of a reluctant witness. (Yes, he reminds me of a man on the witness stand who has been instructed by his attorney to say as little as possible.) I don’t care. From now on I believe nothing but act on his words as though they are all true. I refuse to read nuances, innuendos or looks because I am constantly berated by him when I do even when it turns out that I was right to do so. If he wants to hide things from me so be it. Hide to your heart’s content. If I ask if he would pick up something for supper and he says “yes” with that disgusted, frustrated voice I will simply hear the “yes” and thank him for doing so. If he tells me he doesn’t want to go somewhere with N and me with that hang dog look hoping for reassurances that we want him to go I will simply say in a cheery voice, “okay, see ya’ later.” When I ask how he’s feeling and he says nothing more than “fine” I will accept that he is fine without further inquiry.

I’m tired. I may just take a few days of vacation all by myself while N’s away at camp this summer. A little “me time” may be just what I need.

And They All Fall Down

I wrote the following email to my pastor today. I share it with you as a blog update.

Pastor,

Just wanted to let you know that W is now at Xxxxx Hospital and is supposed to be there until Wednesday or Thursday. He would love visitors, whether it’s you or any of the church folk.

Xxxxx Xxxx is being a blessing to us by spending her afternoons this week with N. Also, Xxxx Xxxxxx and I have been in touch and likely will be in touch again about needs our family may have during this time. I love how the people of our church truly are the “Community” in [our church name].

I don’t know if you’ve seen the note I dropped in the offering plate yesterday or not, but my dad is also at Xxxxxx Hospital in Xxxxxx. He has been in the ICU for over a week now. Due to xxxxxxxxxx xx xxx xxxx around his xxxxxxx air was xxxxxxx xx xxx xxxxx. The pain was apparently intense, and the risk of xxxxxxxxxx was high. He has had two surgeries in the last week to try to xxxxx xx xxx xxxx xxxxxxxxx and stop the xxxxxxx xx xxx to his xxxxx. Hopefully, the second one (which they did yesterday) was successful. If not, they will have to bring in a neurosurgeon for yet another surgery. Dad is nearly 83 and has been fighting xxxxx xxxxxx for the last few years. This is just one more thing on top of the heap.

All prayers welcomed and appreciated for
- Dad, that he will find comfort
- Mom (who is doing her best to keep it together), that she be uplifted with God’s strength
- W, that he can be made more comfortable and that he finds peace whatever the outcome of this week’s hospitalization
- N (who told me this weekend he’s afraid both his grandpa and dad will both die), that he feel the warmth and love and comfort of family and friends
- and me (I’m still in the denial phase of everything, just plugging along acting like it’s all okay when it isn’t), that I can be a source of comfort and strength to the others and a good role model for N, and that at some point I have the time to have a good hard cry.

Heh. I meant this to be a short little email and turned it into a novella. Sorry ‘bout that. I do tend to ramble.

TS

So that’s the short version of what’s going on. Yes, I said that right. There’s more. I just don’t have time. I have to go pick up N so we can visit W.

More later (I hope). . .

Just a little summary of how things are going lately.

GOOD
• Thanks to not divorcing W and not having to pay him his equity in the house the mortgage has been fully paid off this month.
• I finally got the Mirena IUD placed late last month, and it will hopefully help with the “lady issues” I’ve struggled with for so long. So far so good according to my Dr.
• Summer is almost here meaning camps for N, vacation for N and me at some point, and hopefully no more cold weather for a few months.
• I’ve gone back to manicuring my own nails on a fairly regular basis and even bought some new nail polish. N likes when I wear bright red (which I seldom do), but I prefer more muted tones.

BAD
• For N’s soccer tournament this weekend the weather looks to be clear on Friday and Sunday, but his games are on Saturday and Monday when the forecast is less kind.
• Last week we wrapped up in blankets to watch Little League. This week we are sweltering even in the shade even in the evening.
• W’s health is not so great, not that it has been for a long time, but his current issues are really hurting him. I’d go into more detail except for the fear he would search on a symptom or disease or whatnot and find this blog. Not that it matters that much, but there’s no reason to hurt his feelings more than I already have.
• N’s been on the DL (disabled list for those of you that were thinking down low) a lot lately first with strep throat and now with a sprained wrist. It’s bumming him out to miss so much baseball and soccer. At least the wrist is better enough that he’s back to playing soccer since it doesn’t count on wrist strength and flexibility much to play soccer.

UGLY
• My hair, which is in its natural state of long, scraggly, and graying. Hopefully, with the mortgage paid off I can return to keeping it beautiful. I’d still like it long, but less scraggly and less gray.
• Work has been ugly for a while now. I am kind of caught in the middle of a personality clash situation that I didn’t intend to be in the middle of. I’m sorry, but I can get along with each party separately. The fact that they can’t get along with one another shouldn’t be my problem. Must refuse to listen to both sides. Play nice girls, play nice.
• The lawn at home is more scraggly than my hair, but at least it’s the right color – green. Again with the mortgage paid off maybe I can hire someone to do something about it. I’m so terrified of the poison ivy and poison sumac (due to the bad reactions I have had in the past) that’s out there I just can’t bring myself to get out there and do it myself.

Okay so that’s my update. It ain’t much, but it’s all I got.

Just One of Those Moments

The other evening during dinner, N was pulling on the waistband of his pants. W and I both noticed.

W: What are you doing?
N: Making room so I can eat more.
TS: Oh, I thought you were looking for something in there.
N: You thought I wanted to show off my package? My package is so big it takes two UPS trucks to carry it.

Dinner resumed some time later when we all managed to stop laughing.

Thursday Therapy: Idling in Neutral

This past week is one of those times when I feel like I’ve just had the gear in neutral and have idled. I don’t think this is a bad thing. It is sometimes necessary during any process to just take some time and space for nothing. Even God took the seventh day off. Not only that, He then included it in one of His commandments to us. Time off – a necessary part of life and all the processes therein.

Consequently, I don’t feel like I have a lot to talk about here this week. One never knows though until getting into the flow of the writing though where it will go or what and how much ground may be covered. Most all of my posting is just stream of consciousness stuff. Let’s see where the stream leads today.

Last Friday, I met with a journalist who is working on a story about women like me. Specifically, she is writing about moms who cheat. She had put out the call on Twitter, and I responded. We met for only an hour, not nearly enough time to cover everything but enough time I think to cover the basics of how it started and a lot about J and how that relationship continues on a sporadic basis today. Also, she’s read some of my blog so she wasn’t entirely unaware of me and my less than stellar side. It felt brave in some ways to talk to someone IRL who hasn’t been part of my little circle of imaginary internet friends about that side of me. It was a little scary, but Mrs. Chicken couldn’t have been nicer. Having followed her blog for a while I knew she would be. I’m looking forward to reading her article when she completes it and will most likely share a link to it here so you can read it too.

Talking on Friday felt like the start of the idling process, it kicked off a period of just kind of reflecting and reviewing for myself how I’ve come to be here, at this point, now. This was followed by a weekend filled with N and me activities which left little time for me to be me or ruminate on being me or whatever.

Tuesday should have seen me in session with Freud, but I canceled. I haven’t yet decided what I think of my reason for canceling. I waver between feeling justified and feeling that I was weaseling out of an uncomfortable situation. The fact of the matter is that instead of meeting with Freud I met with my pastor, not in any therapeutic sort of way, but to discuss adult education matters within the church. We had been trying to schedule a time to have lunch to have this discussion for about three weeks. Tuesday worked for the pastor but it conflicted with my appointment with Freud. Rather than postpone our meeting further I canceled Freud in order to have lunch with the pastor. At this point, it is what it is so I’m not giving it much further thought but will just move forward with no intent of canceling future appointments with Freud.

For right now, I’m living the words of Scarlett O’Hara:

I can't think about that right now. If I do, I'll go crazy. I'll think about that tomorrow.

After all... tomorrow is another day.

Happy Anniversary

Today is my three year anniversary at my job. Looking back three years ago it seems like such a short time in some ways and a lifetime ago in others. The new job meant a second big move in just a few years’ time, a disruption whose effects continue to ripple through my life. Some things are better than they were then, some things are worse, some are just different but not really better or worse, and some things are just still the same. Let’s look at each category, shall we?

Better

• BJ and I have run our course
• M is a steady source of physical release so I’m not so on edge all the time
• Meds for the depression finally seem to be right
• Freud is helping me be a better me
• I have season Illini basketball tickets
• I love, love, love, love, love my church
• I have developed true friendships with a few people

Worse

• I keep letting J back into my life in spite of him being on marriage #3
• I am dealing with a house I never should have bought
• Finances continue to worsen, at least for the next few months
• My relationship with my parents is becoming more strained again
• My weight is back up to where it was before I lost weight several years ago
• I let Gladys intimidate me to the point where I don’t use my backyard

Just Different

• N is a precocious 11-year-old instead of a precocious 8-year-old
• N is focusing on soccer and basketball as his sports of choice rather than doing everything
• Different boss, now that we’ve cleared the air I no longer consider this a worse thing, but I’m not ready to say it’s a better thing either

Same

• W is still here, once again living in my home
• W and I are still married
• I am still miserable being with W
• I still hate the stupid Hallmark holiday in the middle of February
• I still hate Midwestern winters
• I still miss living in northern CA

Overall, I would say that the Betters outweigh the Worses. Also, many of those Sames are things I need to help change so there’s plenty of room to keep making the Better list longer.

******************* 

On another note, (although I suppose one could argue this could’ve been part of the Better list) I have returned to reading one book every week or two. While this isn’t near what my reading used to be it is far greater than it has been in a long time and probably about as much as my busy life can accommodate currently. I credit getting the depression under control with bringing back my ability to concentrate and focus long enough to actually read and comprehend. I recently obtained a library card and am having a ball checking out books and reading.

The Big Game

Wow. Just wow. That’s the only way I can describe this past weekend. It was a whirlwind of activity, chock full of fun events, a few obligations, a couple of annoyances and even a little time for a Sunday afternoon nap.

N and I woke up bright and early on Saturday morning knowing we had a big day ahead. We dressed in our finest (aka most outrageous) Illini outfits. We headed off down the slick, slippery roads to get bagels and hot beverages to help us stand outside the Assembly Hall while we waited for the doors to open for the ESPN Game Day hoopla. When we arrived at 7:30 a.m. (doors were scheduled to open at 8:00 a.m.) there was already a line. Actually, there were already several lines, one at each of several entrances. We chose what looked to be the shortest, and nearest, line. We stood. We ate. We shivered. We drank. We chuckled at the outfits of some other fans. We shivered. We booed when a small Spartan fan contingent got in line. We shivered some more. We chanted with the rest of the crowd, “Let us in! Let us in!” We shivered.

Finally, the doors opened wide, and we made our way into the Assembly Hall. N, me and some 4,100 of our closest friends other Illini fans all rushed in to get the good seats. Not that we would spend much time sitting in our seats, mind you, at least not once Digger came out to get the crowd warmed up. We made our way to B section, not too far away from the guy in a chicken suit wearing an Illini basketball uniform.

N made it onto national TV, only for a second or two though so he’s got plenty of time left on his life’s 15 minutes of fame. If you happened to watch ESPN Game Day last Saturday morning and happened to notice a young kid in a fuzzy orange hat smack dab in the middle of your screen for a moment then you saw N. If you missed it, I have it recorded so drop by sometime, and we’ll be happy to show you. And me? Well, let’s just say if you look really hard at some of the wide shots of the whole crowd that was me about two thirds of the way up, a little right of center. Surely you saw me. The one in the orange shirt? Yeah, that was me.

Now, you’d think that being part of ESPN’s Game Day would be the highlight of the day, right? Well, not even close. We’d only just begun. The afternoon held more fun for the family. N’s school had a fine arts festival, and after that N had a basketball game. W got the pleasure (okay, so I practically had to force him to do it, but dang it I can’t be made to do every damn thing involving N) of attending these two events as I stayed home nursing my cold and resting up for Saturday night. N had a great time both at the festival and his game.

Finally, the best part of the day arrived – Saturday night – the big game – the thing everyone was abuzz over – that magical moment – Illini Basketball. The Illini took on the then #5 (now just #10) Spartans. Now Spartan fans (and I know there's at least one who'll read this) will probably whine and tell you they would’ve won had one of their best players not been out with an injury. I’ll tell you that the Illini nation wasn’t about to let the Spartans come into our territory, with Dickie V, Digger, Jay and company in the house, and beat us. No way. No how. My boys played their hearts out. They fought back every time the Spartans made a run at it. The Illini absolutely were not going to let the Spartans get the best of them. Saturday night’s game was one of the best live games I’ve attended. I had an absolutely awesome time. . . Awesome!!

I was wound up by the time I got home from the game. I even watched a bit of the game (well, of course I recorded the game even though I was there) on TV just to help me settle down. I also did a bit of prep, but not as much as I should have, for Sunday School and church.

Sunday morning I was up early because I had to finish preparing for church. I was liturgist so I could hardly show up ill prepared. I was hoarse from the combination of cheering the day before and my cold. At church, I facilitated the Sunday School class I'm leading then helped with worship.

I was planning on attending the women's basketball game Sunday afternoon, but it all finally caught up with me. I napped. I napped really, really well from about 2:00 - 5:00 p.m. I would've napped some more, but I was afraid I wouldn't sleep that night if I did.

Oh, and I hear there was some sort of little football game Sunday evening. Honestly? I was too tuckered out to pay much attention.

Groundhog Day Forecast: Cloudy with Perhaps a Ray of Sun

Today’s post is presented in Herb Caen three dot journalistic fashion. For those clueless to the meaning of that (I suspect just about anyone who hasn’t spent time in the Bay Area) click on the link. Herb Caen was an icon. I never missed a column of his the entire time I lived in Northern CA. My version of three dot journalism pales in comparison to his. But it’s more fun than doing just a regular ole’ bullet point list. So there.

* * *

N has a nasty bronchial virus. He is one miserable boy. We’ve spent lots of time in a warm, steamy bathroom the last few days trying to make breathing a little easier. He stayed home from school yesterday and again today. Mind you, he doesn’t mind missing school, but he was quite upset that he might miss a pizza party his class is having. You see, N earned that pizza party for his class by completing a challenge from his teacher. The challenge? Turn in every single assignment for one whole week. Now you and I both know that shouldn’t be a big deal. That’s just what you do, turn in your assignments. However, it has been an ongoing struggle with N, and he swore there was no possible way he could ever turn in everything for a whole week. Well, he did. Therefore, a pizza party at the teacher’s expense is the reward. Of course the teacher is going to wait until N returns to school before having the pizza party, but N was worried enough about it that I spoke to his teacher yesterday to confirm it. Now all is well. N can rest and recuperate in peace knowing that pizza will not be had without him.

* * *

W continues to go through life completely clueless. He is so clueless about so many things. He just goes through life with blinders on, refusing to look at anything he doesn’t want to see, refusing to acknowledge anything that may be different than his perception. It is clear to me that he is completely 100% clueless that I am barely tolerating his presence at home. He doesn’t seem to get that in spite of my trying to be cordial and not ice cold to him at all times that doesn’t mean that I’m all head over heels in love with him. He’s convinced himself that ours is a love that is stronger than all the troubles we’ve had. What is actually stronger than all our troubles is my ability to tolerate less than tolerable situations. While some may see me as weak because I have let him back in the house I see myself as strong, strong enough to tolerate, strong enough to bide my time, strong enough to see through a commitment made years ago when I didn’t have a clue where that commitment would take me.

* * *

Related to W’s cluelessness, I am somewhat dreading that awful holiday that falls in the middle of the second month of the year. I dread it because I anticipate that W will try to do something special for me to show me how much he loves me. Ick. Just the thought of it makes my stomach turn.

* * *

Church work is consuming more of my time lately, and I love it! I think it’s really good to spend my time involved in spiritual things. I find it to be very nourishing to my soul. After facilitating an adult bible study lately I am feeling ever so much more plugged into my church community. For the upcoming year (and probably two) I will be working heavily in the adult education ministry of our church. This is absolutely a brand new area for me and not one that I would have ever actively sought out on my own as a ministry for myself. However, God knows better than we sometimes (Just sometimes? Okay, so leave the sometimes out of that statement.) so that’s where I am and feeling optimistic and enthusiastic about it. I think that if BJ and I were still together I probably would not have opened myself to this kind of role as I would have feared it would take time away from “us” since he was not an enthusiastic church person.

* * *

I am so much better off without BJ in my life. Yes, I know you knew that. It’s just that it took me, as usual, a bit of time to catch up. He dragged me down in ways that I refused to acknowledge for a very long time. I have spent a lot of time thinking about our relationship lately, but not in missing it like I did for a while. I have been thinking about a lot of the negatives that were there, and there were a lot of negatives. He was, once again, a project for me. He was a lost sheep for me to save. The problem though is that I am not a shepherd. It is not my job to save lost sheep, and I am not good at it anyway. It is not what I need to do. When I met him he was a lost sheep, and when we parted ways he was still a lost sheep. I am somewhat sorry our paths crossed but not a whole lot. I learned some things about myself from my relationship with BJ. I also learned a few things about the standards by which the next man will have to measure up to be allowed into my life in the way I allowed BJ into my life. I truly wish BJ well and hope that someday he finds the thing(s) that elude him in his life. It saddens me that I will probably never know how his life is going because I do care about him, but that’s up to him.

* * *

Growth is not always at the pace we desire. Sometimes it comes awfully slowly and with many fits and starts. I feel deeply that I have come through a period of tremendous growth in the last few years. It has been painful, as growth often is. It isn’t over by any means. I’ve still got miles and miles to go to be “right in the head,” but I think I’m finally pointed in the right direction. I think we’ve finally got the right combo of meds to help me stay out of the black hole, at least most of the time. I am learning techniques to use to pull me away from the black hole when I feel myself being lured back. I feel good with where I am and what I’m doing for the most part. Life isn’t quite as bleak as it has been. There are still clouds but more whitish and not so black and gray. You know, if I’m not careful I might just see a ray of sunshine amidst the clouds.

So You Want the Rest of the Story

Sorry. I ran out of time yesterday when writing the post and since it was, after all, Thursday and time to get the Thursday Therapy post posted, I went ahead and did the quick and dirty version focusing on what I need to work on in therapy rather than the precipitating event. Today’s post is the precipitating event. . . in excruciating and copious detail. (Could I write any other way?)

Prologue
On Tuesday N had basketball practice from 6:15 to 7:15 p.m. Also on Tuesday the Illini had a home basketball game at 8:00 p.m. This was cause for a bit of a dilemma because I don’t like to arrive late (aka less than a 45 minutes before game time) to the game because (1) I miss out on a free parking place and have to pay $5 to park and then have to walk farther besides (don’t ask, just trust me I know a great little free place to park close by that only a few others also know), (2) I hate to miss watching the warm ups, and (3) I really hate to miss the opening tip off.

Chapter 1 – Tuesday Morning & Afternoon
Having thought about the dilemma a great deal I proposed the following scenario to W and N. W would take N to basketball practice along with N’s ticket to the Illini game. After work I would come home, get my ticket and go to the game on time. After practice was over W would drop N off at the Assembly Hall to meet me at our seats. Both W and N agreed to this plan. I thought the problem had been solved. I called home late in the afternoon to make sure everyone remembered the plan and was following through. I was assured by W that all was well.

Chapter 2 – Tuesday After Work
I left work late (I will admit that my workaholic tendencies are creeping back to what they used to be in my pre-N days), grabbed Taco Bell for dinner, and went home to change and get my ticket for the Illini game. When I opened the drawer where the tickets are kept it wasn’t there. The tickets for the remainder of the season were there but not any for that night. I looked on the counter nearby but couldn’t see a ticket anywhere. I called W to ask him where he put it. He told me there had only been one ticket in the drawer so he assumed I already had mine. I asked him to flag N down at practice and ask if he had taken one out of the drawer thinking he was supposed to do so rather than W. W asked but N said that he hadn’t done anything with the tickets. W insisted they had only one ticket with them and offered to bring it home to me so I could go to the game. I declined and said that he should take N and drop him at the game, and I would pick him up afterwards. I then asked if he was absolutely sure that he only had one ticket, not two. Silence. . . and then “Oh, I have two.” I was annoyed but decided to just make the best of it. I offered to just let W go with N to the game while I watched on TV. W said he didn’t want to do it that way, but I told him that doing it that way would make me happy as I didn’t want the hassles of going late and he might as well go and enjoy the game. I asked if he would please just do this for me. W agreed to do it my way, and we hung up. I knew, deep down in the pit of my stomach, that W wouldn’t follow through even though he’d agreed. I tried to ignore that feeling.

Chapter 3 – Game Time
Shortly before game time, I settled into my comfy chair with the TV tuned to ESPN ready to watch the game on TV. I thought I heard the back door open, but then I didn’t hear anything else so I thought it was just my overactive imagination coupled with a strong distrust of W to follow through on things to which he had agreed. Then N (aka Mr. Stealthy) poked his head in the family room and asked, “When are we going to the game?”

Blood started rushing to my head as I calmly (or at least I tried for calmly) asked, “Where’s Dad?”

“Out there.” N gestured toward the garage.

I took a few deep slow breaths. W came into the room. As much as I would like to say that we had a civilized discussion about things that would be a lie. I yelled. I screamed. I bellowed. I let W have it. I raged. I fumed. I hurtled insult after hurtful remark. I was furious.

I told N to go get in the car so we could go to the game. He did. As I put my shoes and coat on I told W in that cold, steely voice I get once the red hot rage eases and becomes a slow burn, “I knew, absolutely knew, when you hung up the phone that you wouldn’t do things the way you agreed. I knew that you would bring N back here, and I would be forced to take him to the game. I knew you couldn’t bring yourself to do things the way that would make me feel better about the situation. I knew you’d have to do things in such way as to make me angry. I just knew it. I didn’t want to believe it, but I knew.”

How many times did W apologize to me? A multitude. How many times did he offer to make things right by using the tickets for himself and N? None.

Chapter 4 – After the Game
When N and I got home after the game (after parking way too far away, and paying $5 for the privilege of doing so, and hiking up to the Assembly Hall, and arriving after the game started, and then having to hike back to the car after the game, and fighting traffic to get home) W seemed to think that all should be peachy keen, a-ok, all’s well. Bullshit buddy. Things are not peachy keen nor are they a-ok. Nothing is well.

Chapter 5 – The Aftermath
And that’s how I come to today, three days later, and I’m still not speaking to him beyond the bare minimum to get things accomplished. I am still livid. I am still furious. It may be petty, but I wanted things my way for once. I wanted others to do things my way rather than manipulating me into doing things some other way. I am so fucking tired of allowing myself to be manipulated instead of standing my ground. I am so fucking tired of people not honoring me by either doing things the way that I ask or saying no to my face rather than agreeing and then just not doing.

W took advantage of me. He knew that I wouldn’t let those tickets go to waste. He knew that if he just didn’t take N to the game that I would give in and go. He knew that I would be furious with him for not doing as I asked, yet he did it anyway. He knew there would be hell to pay. I could tell by the way he approached me when they first arrived home that he knew. Yet somehow the anger from me, my disappointment, my yelling, my not speaking, none of those things matter as much to him as not having to go to one basketball game with his son.

Yet I can see it from W’s point of view too. He doesn’t enjoy going to the games that much. He would prefer to stay home. He would prefer not to have to spend too much time with N because of how badly they get along together. He knows I generally like going to the games. He probably thought that I would be happier going to the game than staying home in spite of me saying that I was tired and would just rather he go to the game with N. Plus he probably wasn’t happy about having to navigate through the traffic to get to and from the game. So maybe I did overreact. Maybe I just need to suck it up one more time. Maybe unicorns and fairies will fly out of my butt too.