Meandering

That he is gone for good.

That he left me for good.

That he is as though dead like mom and dad, gone forever

That someone can go from being my family for 25 years to not.

To someone who doesn't care if I live or die (and wouldn't mind the latter because it would make his life easier).

That I still have dreams about him, asking why...how can you leave.

I know he is gone. And that he has hooked up with a new woman, his "dream" woman who now gives him legitimacy again, identity.

And I have none from before, a castaway an imminent divorcee (still waiting, still married).

What do I feel?

Alone. Some difficulty in remembering sometimes that he is truly gone. I do confess to wondering if he dreams of me. To wondering how I am. To remembering our love.  To admitting to himself the pain he caused to me and feeling badly for it. To somehow figuring out a way to look God in the eye of his soul and admit his wrong. Does he ever think, I should not have put my hands on her? And if so, does he feel authentic regret?

I guess it does not matter to me anymore, in a practical sense.  He is gone. Gone forever. My mom and dad are gone forever.  My family from my childhood (he is included in a way because I was 21 when we became "as one"):  all gone.

So I wake up these days in my big empty bed which was once our bed, sometimes occupied by me and my little tiny girl, stretching her arms and legs out to the max, until I can barely fit.  Its sweet, but his spot still seems empty, like a visceral cutout in space.  The edges of the cutout have worn, the color of the missing air has become more cloudy, filled in with something else; an empty feeling still.  

My man boy is towering over me now, his voice deepening in alto crescendos of man boy silliness.  His teenager view is growing adult, jaded in someways yet sweet and caring.  I love him too.

And they love me.  They love their Dad too, want to, need to.  They don't tell me all, guard some of their fun with their dad partly to protect me, partly to protect their memories of when these moments feel good. They know his betrayal, which sickens me, but they know also that he treats them like someone who loves them, they need not know the interior battles over money. He won't pay for much needed tutoring, but he will take them to expensive restaurants every time he has them, everyday. He wont pay for the babysitter so I can work later twice a week, but he will buy them expensive gifts.  His lawyer negotiated that he does not have to pay for the someday drivers ed, or discretionary funds for my kids prom, or most damning of all, their college at a pro rata cost beyond that of a state school..so if our kids get into a good private school he wont have to potentially pay the $25k minimum EXTRA (in pro rata breakdown).  So he apparently holds no worries of their true needs for growth and happiness..but so he can have the right to say to himself, he has been a good dad (to himself, his woman, his family) he plays this game of money. 

He is a fake parent.  Or perhaps the truth, not a very good parent. And the sad thing, but real thing, is my kids know this, with little (albeit some) utterances of me.  I am not a robot, my hurt or looks of disdain does seep out on occasion. But thats okay, I think.  What does the cosmos say about that! Does it care?

Yet back to square one. I am alone. 

A developing adult embryo, sprouting new emotional limbs. Vulnerable to the max, searching for sustenance so I can survive. Blind but still working on intuition, growing a bit more everyday. I am forming, into a good thing, a kind thing that wants more in my life.   But the more can not be anything- I refuse to act desperate, even on those nights when I feel desperate.  I want more, you see.I guess I am living in my chrysalis at the moment, at least that is what I hope.  I hope for the beyond, the next and possibly authentic step for me.

My dream

Its a dream. We are in a house and I am folding socks. He is petering about and its still early (8 pm?).  And the next thing I know I am wondering where he is; he has disappeared. I go to look.  He is upstairs, in bed sleeping. As usual, he had not said good night because I am sure he knows I would have said "wait, spend some time with me".  Which my dream self then does.  He ignores me.

I feel so alone, as I had countless times before, alone and defeated.  Please pay attention to me. He does not, until only when he gets angry. Really angry.   I look at his sleeping countenance, passive, ignoring.   I know I am poking the bear if I speak.

I start crying.  "Are you like this with her", dream me asks?  Ignoring, uncaring. I am remembering again what it was like.  And my awake self now, recalls more. His angry face, as he lumbers and awakens himself up to get away from my upset self.  I can not stop myself.   No matter what I am to be alone. Alone staring at his sleeping face, or alone trying to get him to understand that I need more from him...that I don't understand why he is tuning me out.  This is years before the violence began, yet the abuse is there in my memory, like a footnote that stained the last three years before he left for good.

My anger was there before.  I remember it now. Hot and raging, it had scorched
the earth of our marriage because it had ben set off by his indifference. Was it
just his ADD or was it me, as he claims. He never understood that I was seeking something I thought was good and natural to expect in a marriage.  Connection.  And I never understood that this was something he could truly only mete out in small portions, within the partitions of his interests, his motivation, his wakefulness (for he worked himself heavily), and yes, his organic inattentiveness.  I should have known that wanting more could ultimately only end up being perceived as "desperate", "pathetic".  He pushed those buttons to hurt intentionally but also because he was no longer home.  At the end, he felt betrayed by me because I would not quiet my needs, my truly desperate (indeed!) need for..connection with someone I love, my husband; a feeling that had been squelched for years and produced my anger. Don't ignore me, I am
more.  Don't curse at me so I go away, I deserve kindness.  Don't say things to ruin and devastate me, I deserve respect.  Do not put your hands on me in violence, I am a fellow human being that deserves love.

It would not have changed for the better with us.  By the end of 2009, I was an unchanging annoyance to him, and he was a frightening and stolidly uncaring individual?  When he was different before, caring but aloof, unable to worry about the boring details of life that I picked up (and resented him for). It was a dreadful match.  Years after the intrinsic bond we held together, the love and commitment, the joy of our kids.

I am remembering even at 5:37 am.  To sleep per chance to dream... I'll pass on that for the moment.  And then I remember, its two years to the day that he left.

Ingrained viscera

Bear with me for a moment. I know why I am feeling the way I am, I am aware of the root of what triggered this bout of low self esteem.  I know it is momentary and I will feel better tomorrow.  But the gist of seeing my sister in law (soon not to be), someone I have liked and felt was family for many years, to be carefully but kindly cut out of her family view while being promised that my kids would be looked after at all the "family functions" is like attending my own funeral while I am still alive.

Last night, I had my niece, whom I love and whom my kids love, sleepover as we have done many times before.  My little one has been having trouble coping with the changes, especially the impending one of the clearly upcoming introduction of a new "Mrs." whom he had been spinelessly introducing to my kids since before he left home; first as many "innocent" playdates between her son and my child, and then as his girlfriend (with son still in tow).  My child found out about an impending change of marital status for her dad because he left texts from his girlfriend where she and he had gushing exchanges about their soon-to-come  wedding, while she still lived under the house of her husband.

I hear from my SIL, that the girlfriend's marital status will be supposedly changed to "divorced" in a month (which I somehow doubt, if our legal process is any indicator). And then onto the wedding!

I can not lie, it hurts. Hurts beyond belief for my own heart, and for his betrayal.  I get it, this hurt that so many of you feel too.

I hurt because my little one is feeling it too, and conflictingly, I know I would hurt if she did not.  I feel sadness because my older child has a deep under boil that has been pushed even farther under because of what his dad has done.  Betrayal.  And my child has had his first taste of real life cynicism because of the acts of someone who was supposed to be someone you could always count on.  His dad.  And his dad hurt his mom, big time.  No hiding that.

And to hear how he is "nothing but loving, almost to the point of over doing it" whenever he is with our kids in front of his family (formerly known as OUR family)... Hurts.  Oh my god, it hurts. 20 years of being family, then changed for the last 5 more to "nebulous exchange" to "nothing", hurts in a way that feels like a deep visceral wound.  Who am I?  

My parents are gone.  His family is gone.  He left saying how "everyone always leaves me in the end" and it appears true. Ironically, I am too over-educated in a way to relate to a lot of other people, the single group of people, I fear. And am I too different? And while I am working hard to live within my own skin, to learn to live and appreciate who I am, I feel exquisitely vulnerable to the process.  

"They all leave you in the end, don't they?"  If that is so, I must know that in the end, there is always me. And the love I can foister on my end, for my fellow humans, my people. And this must be something that gives joy and reconciliation. Is that right? How can I open myself to anyone else, if the deep under feeling is that I am different and will always to be left..

There is a deep under rage roiling under my surface, fighting it, this feeling, fighting to survive, fighting to be acknowledged.  I am important. You can not do this to me, make me feel this way.  I am good.  Anger, deep and hot, because I would not do this to another, that which he would willingly do this to me, after our life that we have shared.

Mourning

I did not sleep well. It was an unfitful sleep, and I know why.  Yesterday, he took the last of his things from what was once our marital home, now mine alone.  His items have been in the garage, his tools, Uncle C's stuffed fish that we used to laugh over as a family.  Now gone at my request, finally.  And I find myself mourning again.

People may not understand how I can feel this, given what I have said about his behavior these last few years, neck grabbing, poking and pinning behavior, his cursing at me profane words.  Scaring and intimidating me. PTSD. And now that he is out and I will not talk to him directly, his behavior now including his refusal to pay for childcare so I can work- a small monthly sum compared to what he makes (preferring instead to spend it lavishly on himself, his girlfriend, and on being Disneyland daddy.  Not "complying" to our stipulation agreement, as the lawyer says.

I am mourning because he was a good man, my "family" from the time I met him at 21 to 47 up until he first grabbed me.  My person who was there through thick and thin, and I for him.  At least in the way he was able to be accessible, undiagnosed disorder notwithstanding all these years.  Lending itself to countless misunderstandings, countless arguments, until he was finally, properly diagnosed.  Yet the misunderstandings continue; that beast has grown.

It was a unique situation and I own some of the brunt of why our relationship struggled,  My low self esteem, my need for financial stability resulting in my taking the primary  control in what I thought was the best interest of us and the children.  I was better at it, and he was not interested in the details even as I begged him for us to sit down and go over the bills and investments together on a regular basis like "real" couples do.  I didn't want to take the responsibility all on my own. I was controlling, because someone had to do things, I felt.

But we did laugh.  And love.  Our children were happy and secure because mom and dad were a unit.  He worked ALOT, which precluded me from doing so. No family to help, refusing to do the nanny thing when the little ones were so young.  But it was okay, I accepted the role because our kids needed that stability and I thought (no, KNEW) that we, as a couple, wanted the family unit.  And notwithstanding, I tried to keep my skills fresh and marketable for the "someday" when the kids were older and I could return to work for us.  Until then, we lived a good life.  Monthly poker games with our couple friends. A comfortable life. I cleaned, shopped, structured family and kid activities, took care of our bills and investments, and met with friends and exercised to keep sane. He had to be gone for work from 6am (up at 4:30 to get ready) and home by 6:30, five days a week.  Spent by the time he got home, we would eat dinner and then he would crash. He worked hard, and was a good provider in this way.  and I did the rest.  Over the years, it became lonely, so lonely.

I could not understand why my partner did not want to talk when he got home, he was fried but I was so lonely for his company.  I had friends, but he was my husband, my person, I thought.  I have known him since he was 24 and we knew each other to the bone, or so I thought.  And I did not know he held such secrets close to his heart, but the truth is, neither did he.  I loved him and yes, I still do.  No caveats (ie, as the father of my children crap).  I love him, my once husband, friend, and (irregular, because I pushed him away; I was hurting and he shut himself off long ago emotionally) lover. 

I did not want to make love to someone who I felt was acting like another kid, no responsibilities at home nor in our personal lives.  I was so, so lonely. But I did not know what to do. Counseling wasn't helping.

Two years now, he has been gone and we do not talk except via email and texts.  He is angry, how could I be this way- I truly think he believes.  He will make me pay, the person who caused him so much pain and embarrassment for making public his closely guarded secret.  He will show me, or perhaps, in true death knoll fashion, not give a shit about me (or hence what effect that means on the kids). 

Because he knows that I "betrayed" him by writing on an anonymous forum about his disorder and his abuse.  Violating a confidence, he felt, though I had not spoken to anybody at home, and we were separated at the time.   My husband wasn't living at home, I missed him, my family.  I was falling apart. so so lonely and desperate. Desperate to talk to someone.  But it was out now, this deep secret to which he accused me of thinking him "broken".  And it was between us, he knew that I knew about his struggle and thought I now saw him as "less than". I never did. 

I never would.  All I felt was renewed hope that our relationship could be truly connected again as we were when we were younger and with less obligations (ones that I ultimately had to take over).  Our sex life now flourished because I now understood these years of what I thought was extreme disconnect, or so I thought.  I was rejoicing because I might see my partner again. He enjoyed at that resurgence, yet interpreted it as validation that his angry and abusive behavior effected the change in my behavior. Frightening thought, it makes me grieve more that he could possibly think that.

But he never believed that I wanted his help, his input.  His growth and happiness in who he was as a man.  I would have given everything for him.  Ironically, he is so proud that he can do these things himself now, in fact demands it.  Its all I wanted, but with me in the decision-making process, like a team or a married couple.

But he is still doing it: the all or nothing. Crazy making. Him vs me.  Him vs the world.  With a partner (aka my replacement, his girlfriend) to buffer and pad his life and joy.  Its all sparkly again, without big bad me.

And now his things are gone.  The void is there, the grief is there.  The fact that he was not strong enough to face his vulnerability without blaming or hurting me, his pain overriding all else.  Triggering his survival instinct to claw like the animal he now acts like towards me.  

A small act, but I saw it.  He used to place our newspaper on the stoop for me when he left for work in the morning.  Yesterday, I saw the paper thrown down farther on the driveway almost to the street.  And I knew he did it, probably kicked it down, as he would kick me if he could.  I am the one that is so mean to him.  The evil one, he believes.  

And the truth is, I still love this man, for whom I grieve our loss.  I must, because what our live had been was real.  It was important and filled with love.  

Being strong enough to look at my fear

I have a face that is moonfaced.  I always have, and now with the slightly overweight physique, it feels heavier.  Not who I like to look at, or I necessarily identify with.  But it is not a horrible face. Nor an unpleasant one.  I look at my eyes, and I see humor and intelligence.  Kindness.  It is what I do feel in my heart.  But then my eyes migrate down, and I see my pouch, the slightly overhanging one over my jeans.  My upper arms are heavy too, but also strong so they have a masculine feel, not very feminine.

Inside, I know I am a good and beautiful person. And it takes me by surprise, sometimes, when I see a photo of myself, because I dont feel as how I look.  Older, more heavy.  Does that sound as contrived or stereotyped? Yes, it does.  But I know I am not physically ugly, just not a ten.

And when I look at men I find attractive, I think they won't find me the same. And that stinks.  The men who might find me attractive, are those who dont take care of their own appearance- and I feel I  do, so what is the disconnect?  Time for more honest appraisal of how I am living my life perhaps.  Fair is fair.

Grandma's cup

Sunny morning and I am sitting here with a hot cup of green tea, drinking out of my grandmas's favorite tea cup.  It is thick walled, and feels good to the touch.

The presence of people still live in the things that they loved, used, identified with.  I believe this, even as I know that presence is even more strengthened if the people who knew them are still around.  Such as it is with my old partner. But his voice is starting to mellow into the background with the other voices of my past, of my home.  True, he still exists in real life, but less so for me.  A faceless voice for when he calls the kids and I happen to hear him on speakerphone, or an angry disinvolved text to me.  It is the reality that this will not be a loving co-parenting situation, if there ever truly is such a thing.  I have drawn boundaries around someone who chose to step on them, abuse is a non-negotiable past that does not change with time. At least for me, and I will try to not look back unless it is to provide a momentary glance, certainly without fear.

I need not look back because the truth is that with the events of physical abuse, my feelings were also wrapped up  in all the feelings that so many, especially those  "cast aside" (which in truth was, in my case, "cast free") must experience.  The feelings of betrayal (how could he, after a promise of life commitment, actively seek another, even as I honored and he pretended to honor this sacrament) and abandonment (my "family" left and no longer loves me). And I need not feel compelled to exercise in self-flagellation at this point, but instead to take my lessons learned and look forward.

But, I have grown..and I am still growing.  

If you are lucky, survival is the instinct that kicks in when you have been backed against the proverbial wall.  It forces you to look into the mirror and provide honest appraisal of what you see.  To BE KIND IN WHAT YOU SEE, SO YOU ALLOW YOURSELF TO HEAL.  And then, if you truly, truly want to make it (to not be yet another stereotypical victim), YOU FIGHT BACK.  You do what you need to do to get the training or job you need to get to make enough money.  You find out all you can about where to place your money to make it grow, how to fix a toilet, how to ask for help though you never had to before (and to do it with a sense of humor and the willingness to give it back, if you can).

And then, as these things get into place, you look into the mirror again and ask youself:  what is it I need to be happy?  Who is it that I need to be happy?  And hopefully, the person in the mirror looks at you and says, "me".

still having problems moving forward

It has been 24 days since I last wrote my happy blog, sitting in a coffeeshop, watching the world go by.  Yet I still struggle, everyday.  The loving kindness that I am to tend for myself, letting my identity be one that is enough, valid, good.  I struggle with feeling worthwhile.

And the power that I give to this other person, seems inextricable some days.  I know I should not let him destroy how I feel about myself, even when he has no idea that he is doing it.  The mere act of his calling daily now, in his move to claim his right to be the "dad".  The one who has not divorced his children, only me. It pulls me into a place of despair, or upheaval.  My mind goes blank, and life feels like it stops, for a moment.  I can't breathe.

It is hard to describe that in my situation, as it is for so many other women, what this  means.  No, he never put me in the hospital.  Yes, my children need to talk to him, to pull together their own sense of identity, as long as they are safe and happy.  It appears to be fine now, now that I am no longer in the picture.

But the memories, and the feelings still come back. PTSD or low self esteem.  "get over it".  "Its done." "you will meet someone else" Can I explain to you that while I want to be done, move on..those words, HIS words, "yes you seem nice, but underneath you are still just you" were the most damning of all, destroyed my confidence, my happiness.  As he looked over his shoulder, sauntering out of our bedroom the last time, he smugly says, "just don't ruin our son, the way you did our marriage".  Devastation.  The times he grabbed me by the throat were doubtless wrong, easy to understand.  But this other thing, his words destroyed a part of who I was.  And the thing is, the damage had already been started before, when I was a kid/ and through my relationship with my Dad.

And now, he is that "great guy".  Still refusing to do the things one would have hoped (ie pay all his support), to help me continue our children's lives and mine in any semblance of normalcy.  But still demanding, his "rights". His woman, I know, thinks he is a prize! His family stands solidly by his side.  I have no family like this.  I am alone, save for my friends whom I guard with close pride.

For all intense purposes, I look "normal".  I am happy some days, sad others.  I work at a job, and am successful, strong and sure.  Confident even.  I am not a toad in appearance, though I could lose a few pounds.. I am not a size 0 but I am not hugely overweight. But I feel different all the time.  I'm smart and more educated than most of my peers.

I look different here, being Asian in face and genetics (but not in mind, a born and bred NEW YAWKER, thank you very much) in a predominantly Caucasian town.  In fact, I more closely identify with white, middle class, educated Christian Caucasians.  Is that weird to say?  But it is a mirage, of course.  I am Asian (and fine with it), I am a sometimes pissy and upfront New Yorker, or the smart woman with a storyline about some divorce.  That is all me.

But what does that mean, really?  Am I going to have a happy ending, like everyone seems to say I will?  Or will I be  alone forever, or worse, with someone who won't be the right fit..someone who might turn out to be even worse than him.

Confessions:  I joined an online dating service but did not post my pictures.  It creeped me out, and I did not want my kids or work colleagues to find out.  But I sent 18 emails to men I thought were interesting, and most responded asking for my picture..which I sent.  And then nothing.  NOTHING.

Perhaps I am not ready.  The rejection was not as bad as I would have expected, perhaps because I am aware of the dog-eat-dog mentality of this site.  In truth, there were several men to whom I did not respond because they were in the "no way in Hell" category.

But ultimately, I keep bringing myself back to the same question.  Is this all there is left to look forward to?  Grossly pathetic, I feel, but it is lonely.  I don't want to be with just anyone, but I would like to find a person who is my match, without sending those negative karmic signals to attract a narcissist ever again. I am like the negative parallel universe Carrie Bradshaw; the middle-aged one who never finds her Mr. Big but ends up chain smoking alone in her lousy little stinky apartment.

 I know I am worth the happiness, but that niggling thought keeps coming back.  Maybe he was right....

Yes its me

Sitting alone in Starbucks with my coffee, people watching out the side of my eye, eavesdropping at the boring and not so boring humdrum of other peoples life.  Its unbelievable, Im just a girl, sipping and typing on my Ipad.  Complete in myself, replete with the assurance that things are okay.

Making no mistake that the crazy still exists on the outside, his craziness or bulliness.  Thats fine, I almost don't mind.  And my kids, they are surviving nicely, even after having to deal with his behavior in smaller yet consistent doses.  Consistency, amazingly, despite his history of inconsistency.  Boundaries play a huge role in this, my hard work (even in the face of my tiredness), my need to keep my sanity and safety.  In his narcissitic motions to "tell me" what he will allow me or not allow me to have/have not... is fine as long as it meshes with what I want and the signed stipulation and soon to be court ordered (can I say legal DIVORCE DECREE?).  The rest of it, his heartbreaking inconsistency and authentic confusion hidden behind a face feeling victimized by big bad ol' me?  As long as it affects not my kids nor me, then fine. The truth will out, for I continue to strive to remain authentic in whom I am, and embrace kindness and joy in myself (a new thing) and for the kindness towards others (that feels altruistically wonderful, and fulfilling).

Maybe I will be alone for a long long time.  Maybe forever.  But unlike the night before I met him, some 29 years ago, I don't live in that fear as I did then.  And in this bright Froday morning, sitting in Starbucks by myself, drinking my coffee with the sun streaming in- I will embrace that feeling.  As a gem, stowed in my pocket, for those days when my mood seems not so shiny.


I offer it here with love, for you guys too to look in your own pockets as well: for those gems are surely stowed there too. :)

A life, a loss, and the sun still streams in after

I heard about the loss of someone I loved, but had not heard from in many years.  My brother-in-law, or should I say my ex-BIL, since he had divorced my sister in law (soon to be ex) many years ago.  Leukemia took his life, he was in his early 60s?
My memories of him include a lot of laughter, silly behavior. He liked to banter, social butterfly.  As it turns out, his wife (my soon to be ex- SIL) states (I heard through my soon to be not husband) that he had liked to play too much from almost Day one, lending to marital discord.  Yet years after the divorce, he remarried to a younger woman and after much history making stuff, they had a set of sweet twin boys, now 6.  Still, I know it was not all bad those years, as I'm sure she knew.  Twenty plus years of marriage, doesn't lie.

I heard about his long term illness yesterday from my own soon to be ex husband, not having known about it before (or not registering it from years past having been in remission for so long).  And my heart broke.  He was family, and the loss was something I acutely feel, even now.  Funny how this family tie still crosses over the years of losing touch; and over the dissolution of legal ties, both his and mine.  We all weep today, this family because of this loss.  And I am struck by the irony of it.

And for the first time in months, I dialed my husbands cell to find out the specifics.  Horror over the thought of this man's suffering transcending the horror of our own recent issues.  My husband, soon to be ex, or ex already.. was disconnected yet oddly less so in years.  I asked about Dad, his Dad, who I heard had been ill., and of Mom, whom I've not spoken to in months.

I asked about this man's ex-wife, my husband exhusbands sister, and this is what he said.  "She is grieving, after all she loves him, loved him for all those years.  And now she has been there for him, and really, for the kids.

It was a message almost foretelling of the future, it seemed.  Our future, to appear long after the judges ink on the divorce decree has dried.  Long after, in all likelihood, our children have entered their adulthood.  And long after he will be married again.

The future where I am venturing on my own.  Not scary, but real.  And I am, oddly sad but feeling ready. I've no wish to be alone for the next thirty five some odd years, or even the next five.  But not desperate either.  Just ready to be ready.  Time to set my fears away.  Fly.

God bless you CW.

Re-define

Having read my last post of moments ago, I am struck by the sound of my thoughts: he said this, she did this... All true, yet now I must ask myself frankly, in the full face of brutal objectivity. How much of this should really define who I am or what my value is.  

I know that many of the voices swirling around us, even from those we love, have more to do with the need for others to make sense of their lives, their needs.  Yet, somehow, I seem all too willing to hold up those things as a way to define and, almost prove, my lack of self worth.  

Let me mull on this, and not let myself get away with that "failsafe habit" that really in the end fails to make me feel safe, but rather oppressed by my perceived unworthiness. 

While it is true I may do things that make others around me stressed because I cant deal with some of   the stress of life, I am no different from those around me. No better, but importantly, NO WORSE. The ubiquitous anxiety that we all encounter in our everyday lives, rising up and down with the tide of events and worries,  we all attempt to soothe in different ways.  Some of those ways were "offered" as aggression or unkindness to me, its true, but its nothing to do with me.  My courage must be to face how I seek to soothe my own ubiquitous anxiety.  Not through self hate, or stress towards others.  But through healthy avenues that allows me to become courageous enough to face my own fears.

Out of his radar, excised from his world

It is as if I dont exist, though I guess that is fair.  I have struggled to make him go away, to disappear because seeing him, hearing him, interactions of any kind with him are too painful.  I want to be normal again, just a woman who is okay, not different, not pathetic or desperate (as he had called me, with that look of distaste in his eyes).   I guess the same is true with him.  

He doesn't acknowledge my texts anymore, including those which concern the kids. He has his woman there all the time, with the kids and I am sure without. Delighting in the fact, if his comments before he left were any indication, that he no longer HAS to do anything I care or cared about.  That he is no longer in my "control". Was I that bad, as I tried to navigate our lives through the obstacles we had to go hrough together when he refused to help; largely I know now due to his inability to (ADHD is a bitch).  Did I make this up, I wonder, as he would like me to believe.  As I am sure his new wife to be would suggest, "no honey, its not you".  

The days when he would ignore me or my attempts to start conversations.  "Say something important", he would say.  Something about what he had to do for the day, for us, for the kids.  Otherwise leave him alone, to wash the car for six hours or putter outside, or sleep on the couch, or fall into the cell phone he now carried with him as a though it were an infant cradled to his chest. Never agreeing to help me with the groceries unless I gave him that list I was too tired to make, or help pay bills or go over the finances together like a couple should. I'm a bitch, plain and simple. Our cleaning lady was inefficient, according to him, and I was lazy.

Later, as he tuned in thanks to the meds, he looked at me accusingly.  How could you do this with the finances (though I did nothing wrong)- where were you all these years when I begged you to sit down with me so you could be part of the decision-making process?  You act as if I was stealing from you, though I have no clue why.  Did you not see how your retirement fund was 2.5 times bigger than mine, foolishly for me thinking it'd be okay because we would use it all together when the time came; what did it matter where they were sequestered?

I know now, that I never let myself unwind enough because I felt the weight of responsibility on my shoulders with the finances, the house, the kids needs.  He liked to drink in bars and get drunk, be the fun guy with his bar friends, like when I met him.  That should have been a clue- I don't like hanging out in bars on a regular basis; it feels/felt juvenile when there were so many more interesting things to do, including hanging out with our kids..making sweet memories.  And I insisted at the time he not do what he wanted, but do what our family needed.  I did not see the resentment that fostered.  He worked longer and longer hours, staying away, tuning out, engrossing himself at work.

We would go out on dates, which was fine except... There would be a lack of things to talk about, beyond the kids.  Other things that involved my attention: bills, needs of the kids, needs of us..were considered too stressful for him to hear and I felt put off, wanting help in those decisions.  He, in turn, would tell me about his work ,his ongoing jobs, and I would listen.  But it would get confusing and I started to mix them all up.  By that point too, I was working a part-time job or jobs, my plate was full, or so I thought.

These days, my plate is overflowing, except when its not, lol.  When the kids are with him, the house is stone quiet. The loneliness becomes resounding.  I miss them.  I miss my family.  My parents are dead, my sister is involved in her own life,  I have no one else.  Sadly, I can say friends help but its not the same.  

I start to troll on Match. Com, not moving forward, not acting but only looking.  What lies in moving into that step, I wonder, gripping me in stagnancy.  What lies,still unforeseen and lurking in the inner recesses of  my brain- its a scary thought.  Maybe I am as FUCKeD up as my husband said. Or controlling.  Maybe there is something inherently wrong with me like he said, or like my dad had said.  For full disclosure, let me say I felt my mom who I loved and miss everyday, always ignored me. I sought after her approval everyday she was here, but tried to make it not so obvious when the cancer took her strength.  I loved her so much.  The "gift" of not knowing my self worth lingers and even persists when I see my sister, who could get in the habit of deep sighs or subtle reprimands.  I understand, ways to express concern, and she needs to be self involved in her life.  She can't deal with the stress or sensitivities of mine, or something might give. Or maybe its because our relationship is not what it ever will be and thats okay.

In any case, I work to figure out what makes the difference. Whats that tipping point that makes me "different" and do I truly believe that? No, not on my good days.  I feel no desire to bring any low self esteem neurosis wherever I go.  Like Marley's heavy chains, those demons clank too loud for me now, they are too heavy to carry.  And I want more.  I want FUN and REAL JOY! No guilt!

To not have to continually explain to anyone, including myself, why I feel as I do.  I am what I am.  Isn't that what GOD said in the Bible?  

NoI have not developed a God-complex; I still acknowledge my weakness, warts (I just need to keep that balanced with noting my self worth).  They are still there, though the nature of them seems to be changing.  I just want to note, that the big guy upstairs seems to have known what he was talking about.  We are who we are.  And that must be enough.

My life now?

Why do I feel so vulnerable?  I am getting two beautiful trees cut down in front of my house, on either side of my driveway because they are diseased and pose a threat to safety to the structure they stand next to- my house.  But I feel like I am losing something important, almost like children. Is that silly?  But my heart feels so sad, and I keep edging closer to where I keep my Xanax, though I don't like to use it (and don't, very often).  

But today, its making me feel sad and alone.  I know it would have made me sad in any case; I love trees and think its a crime to have to cut down such beautiful ones.  But I know in the past, he would have been handling this completely, while I fretted.  He would be yukking it up with the foreman, using the leftover wood for free firewood.  But I just can't manage that thought. I would have to cut it into smaller pieces, for example, and I can't deal with that.  And that thought makes me feel even sadder, and alone.  Vulnerable.

I was not expecting to feel this way.  It has caught me off guard, and that is brutal.  I am strong, aren't I? Or am I?  I see the cut down pieces of beautiful wood, and my heart twangs because it feels a little like I relate too closely to those fractured pieces.  Again, how did this happen? It's unreal, this is my life. Money worries, health worries, every little thing has the potential of crescendoing into an over-reaction, if I let it.  Because if I screw up, I am on my own. No help or comfort from anyone who really cares, who is my family.  No one, except my kids, who are still little.  And that makes me feel worse, not better.

But look, the sun is streaming in stronger now into my kitchen.  It is "sun-kissed" and bright.  My kids are getting picked up for the weekend and I am meeting some friends for a drink.  I have plenty of work to do, I must do.  But that damnable loneliness, the "how I'm now different from everyone else..I have to force it away, gulp it down, try to face the fear and look at it. Tangible, manageable.  I have to.

Checking my own status

Okay.  So while I will openly admit that I am not where I want to be,  good things have happened over these last3-4 years (since this HELL started).  

I am still not officially divorced, and after 24 year marriage with two kids to a guy who became a total narcissist, maybe thats not surprising.  Yes, I still miss my husband..ALOT. And I am giving myself special dispensation to feel that way, because that is what you get when you truly spent many authentic years in a loving relationship, regardless of what his memory might reflect now (sadly).

But during this time, I (and my kids) have been given the time to learn to let go, set up boundaries, and come to terms with the idea that the man that I had placed my full and utter trust in, was..no longer there at all.

And even more, in his place is that one person alive in this world who thinks extraordinarily bad things about me.  And I have been learning to reconcile myself to that though its still a struggle. I needed this time.

But there really is more good stuff:

I have, in this time, been able to develop my professional career since this stuff started (after being a total SAHM for  11 years) to a point that I now have a job I love, with great hours, respect (which was awesome for the low self esteem I came in with) benefits, and a decent salary.

With that salary and state mandated child support, I was able to qualify for a mortgage (2.5% interest, thank you!) to refinance our house. So now its all mine, and my kids and I  have that security and consistency.  Thankfully as CFO all these years, I made a point to try to get back our equity on the house as early as possible, so the debt I have now, I think, will be doable.  And though there are expenses in upkeep and new skills to learn (fast!), we are learning to make do.  And its good.

I am also thankful that I am and have been over the last 15 years, learning anything I could on financial management.  I am a freak about financial security (thanks mom and dad).  Today, I am scrupulously looking over my financial situation, and my debt constantly.

And weirdly, I am thinking it will be okay.  For me, life has not been a switch on and off, but a series of life lessons.  

Best of all, I have been going through a spiritual rebirth of sorts.  I joined a church I love, though I was not raised in any specific denomination and had been going to a different church for years for the kids (as per his wishes, and I was okay with that)..this one feels more my speed. And it makes me happy. 

I have developed tools to help me with stress (which I am grateful for because with or without him, there was always STRESS).  Meditation is awesome. Exercise, diet, playing(!).  Dressing nicely with makeup, the whole thing because it makes ME feel good...and not doing it for anyone else.  Being kind to myself as best I can, and when I can't, I go to my friends or here (or pop in my Pema Chodron audiotape on "becoming fearless".

I am not dating. Yet. Whoo boy, that will be a big one. Ill come back to that one...because I am still shy!  Its lonely to be alone, but significantly better than to be with someone abusive, physically, verbally, emotionally.  Oddly, I know the emotional abuse was the worst out of the three, and it has taken this long to really start to let myself heal from this ultimate betrayal.  Who knows whats under my brain when it comes to relationships (?), yet I feel I have learned much on what to accept and not accept, at least minimally, in a love relationship.

So, things ARE better.  Life truly is this path that I am learning to travel solo.  The women here, MANY, have shown me that they could succeed too, through their individual story lines.  They have given me strength at my darkest hours and I will be forever grateful.  And while we are often a "culled" population of sad women going through tough times..we are also a group of amazing and resourceful women!  Just keep reading....

:)

Lifeiswhatyoumakeit.  Timeisshort. Trustinyourself. Theglassishalffullnottheglassishalfempty.

A stream of endless platitudes, many which I spout myself, believe in when I am strong.  Things have been better.  I have been smiling more, feeling better about myself.  My job is busy, I am doing well. Money is still a struggle, but I'm lucky and I know it.  Spiritual growth rising from the ashes of spiritual devastation.

But I want my life to be like a teen beach movie. Happy, surfs up, cute boys, carefree days.  Can I ever become that happy? The truth is, maybe I never was..but I had enough belief  to think that life could be lived on solid ground, never wavering beyond that which I already knew about. I will survive, Gloria Gaynor told me so.

Yet today I am feeling what the French call "ennui".  Lonely, listless..just plain tuckered out. Start of school for the kids, and my class I'm teaching. Exhausted.  Maybe 9/11 was a grim reminder of the horror that people could do.  He said at the time, he was going to try and appreciate what he had, us.  And now?

The phone rang late last night. Unknown caller. I picked it up and no one was saying anything, but there was someone on the other end.  Twice it rang, and I said each time, "who is this?!".  After, I wondered if it was him.  Doubt it (he is in the other place, the land of someone better, in his mind anyway). But still I wondered.  And felt infintisimally sad.

We see the other happy couples everywhere.  And I wonder can I, really, feel that way again?  Perhaps I'm not ready to try, though I thought I was. I want more, yet I can't help but looking back. I
feel fear of trying again, of getting hurt. of "screwing things up" because his voice and my dads voice is there.  "whats wrong with you, everyone ends up turning on you?". I still hear the mean nasties,
even now.  Fainter each time, or believing them less.  Looking at each meanly flung comment as reflections of another's weakness more than mine. But still I wonder.

Ennui.

School's starting in a week

I jump up at 6:06 am on the button, anxious as a cat landing on both feet at a run.  I don't know why except its the in between babysitter coverage time and I am trying to set up my new sitter and hoping no sitter for a couple of days will be okay.  He hasnt paid for childcare in two months, one more month to go at this rate..and I'm not sure what to do.  Kids needed new backpacks, clothes.  My house needs attention fast.

I no longer can laugh off not having a workable stove, I need one really fast.  My trees need to come down and I cant afford to put up the rest of the replacement trees that the Town tells me I have to.  Meanwhile, my neighbor's husband just leased her a new car; my friends just came back from a "fabulous cruise"...  Wah wah wah.

I don't know who that bully is anymore.  The one who had a week to spend with the kids during which the weather was gorgeous- and kept them in his apartment for the bulk of it.  He is still angry and crazy-making; passive aggressive in refusing to answer the simplest questions or agreeing to the simplest requests, while demanding those things which are his "rights as a father", without regard to the wishes of his kids.  Trying to steer towards some sense of normalcy, and some days, I just can't.

I wanted my time to take the kids out to celebrate my sons confirmation,  and sent him that email a couple of weeks ago.  No response, and if I want to invite people for that day I have to do it soon. So I send a hopefully "friendly" email "just to confirm its okay" and get this response:

"Dont automatically assume its ok with me... Its not your Sacriment"

Okay, so does the fool not realize that:

1). I have been the one taking our kids to church these last few years to his TWO times; as well as talking to them about what the services meant, what needed to be done to meet the confirmation sacrament requirements?

2) That MARRIAGE, in the Catholic Church, is a sacrament too whereas adultery is viewed as a sin?

3) That the word is spelled, "S-A-C-R-A-M-E-N-T"?  If you are going to try to treat me as a spiritual outcast, at least spell it correctly.

I sent my attorney another email yesterday with double trepidation and fear; because she hasnt responded to my two other emails of whether she finally filed (apparently hadn't these past three months??) and if I am finally able to get childcare from him in the summer because he decided that I'm not entitled to it, despite what the stipulation agreement says. And because I guess, I still have fear at what this means, what he might do, what will happen to me and the kids.  Its a heavy, heavy load to bear and I feel like it's crushing.

I would love to find a partner who could lift my burden, if only to be the partner that I would like to be in return.  It is so much easier with two than one, even when that one was crazy apparently (was he always so crazy? I wonder that everyday now...did I miss something over the past 28 years?).  Yet I wait, for a piece of paper it feels like the world is avante garde about- but it matters to me.  I feel myself reverting to that immature state; I want my mama, for real, I really miss her.  I want it to be easier again, and to not have someone in the world out there HATING who I am, to their very core. Its kind of scary, to know that- esecially when it is my husband (a term that is only on paper now, and perhaps in the eyes of God) of 24 years. Soon to be not.  And that is good, I know.  Absolutely no lamenting about that, because I am done..done finally.  But I still carry that fear with me.  Can anyone really get it unless they are in it?

Another milestone

one more night, then the kids come home.  (relief, love, sorrow)

One more day, where I have mastered the art of being single again.

One more night,feeling alone, but not necessarily lonely (compared to what I was before).  Still...

One more life moment, of finding out who I am...and its not all bad (and maybe not all good..but that's okay too).  Letting it go...

I don't know what love is (a la Forrest Gump).  I don't know what a "real" relationship is, or if the path to that dream life of commitment is in the cards for me.  I'd like to think it is but I won't really know. Can anyone?  I do know what I want though:  commitment of trust, caring, kindness, connection based on emotional, intellectual, as well as physical.  Sexual attraction is wonderful and necessary but after a while, you realize, you must be able to have something to say, to communicate as friends..or it falls short.  And to not fall into the habit of taking something special for granted. Ever.

I am pulling things together.  My life, my home, my job, my relationship with the kids...my friends for whom I now try to rally for, as they have rallied for me these past few years.  my kids and their needs, my responsibility to them to be sure they grow to responsible young adults. Stability.

Off the crazy rollercoaster that someone asked I ride. The crying, the drama.  Still waiting for the finality of it,  now I welcome it, with anticipation.  So many years since the beginning of the end.  No contact (pretty much) for almost two years).   Goodbye.

I am special.  I am kind.  I am good.  I am loved.

Its after midnight and i sit in front of the computer screen, in front of the tv...and its okay, albeit wishing I had the company of some cute guy with a great personality and decency (I will admit).

Let there be good karma flow through...  

Uhhhh

Missing my kids.  Really.  Wishing they were home.  Soul feels parblanched; acid boiled because my babies (who are not babies except to me!) are at his apartment for the week. He picked them up, and I had to talk to him again, the asswipe, who acted like nothing was wrong and how he would be so accomodating for whatever the kids needed ("I can pick them up whenever it works for the kids").  He was texting son NOT me to ask when he should pick them up, again clueless that perhaps he should be communicating with their mom.  Btw, I have to work, so I really need to know what time you are picking them up....

So he came and got them yesterday, for which kids spent the day in his apartment playing on their electronics. Kids texted me they were bored.  His gf must have been at work, for otherwise I am sure he would have left it up to her as to what "their" plans would be.  Yechhhh.

 Its yet another challenging, unwanted experience that is stretching me beyond my limits. Feeling empty, I purposefully loaded up my week with work stuff, but now wishing I hadnt. I know what I need to do. Just don't want to do it.

Meditation be damned. Good thoughts be damned. The loneliness is sucking my spirit.


It will get better today, but my waking up without my loves...quite frankly, sucks.

Summer days

The days of my need to write, scribbling furiously with all my strength, stress, fear...seems to be spreading farther and farther apart. And thats a good thing.  Is it desensitization of the shock of what I can now acknowledge and accept has come to pass: the ultimate decimation of my 24, yes TWENTY-FOUR year marriage.  Though, truth be told, at the 20 year mark, he told me our anniversaries meant nothing to him, even as we still celebrated up until our 22nd.  It meant something to me. Still does, truth be told.  And as the death knoll in concert with  the ticking clock in the judge's chambers somewhere in the town of M**** chimes on, I am acutely aware that, yes, we are still married.  No spirit, no relationship. No marital love anymore.  But the commitment still exists and to me, that means something.  And perhaps to God, and my kids as well.

Yet, its okay, strangely, that our lives have moved on... He is planning his next marriage, his next home, his next life.  His Hell (and Heaven) he brings with him..and he is welcome to it.  And I guess,  I am readying to move on too. Though I am trying to respect the laws and closure process that I know is necessary for healthy healing, I am ready now for it to be completely over.  A day I never thought would happen. And yet, the caveat is that I know, at the very least that the tenuous and thready ties that formed over the years are still there. The ties and history of seeing his siblings marry and have kids.  My parents, and his, grow older.  My parents, uncle, cousin all passing to heaven way too soon.  My love for "mom and dad", my in-laws.  My love for the many nieces and nephews, and their kids- all on his side.  It was history in the making, and that can not be erased.  It is not meant to be.  As my therapist once told me, its even okay to still love him- just do it from afar.   Indeed.

Omar Khayyam wrote, "the moving finger writes, and having writ, moves on.  And not all the words shall cancel half a line, nor all the tears wash out a single word of it." And that is okay, I think.  I even can smile now at the fear and the craziness that may still be roiled up..while setting up as much of my protective boundaries against those who would hurt me.  Against him.  And that too is good.  It is a lesson that was a long time in the making, and at last, I think it is sinking in.  I must nurture myself in the forefront, even as I continue to nurture my babies (soon to be not).

I have my own separate life in the making.  My kids, with my special relationship with them.  My job, fluorishing and validating.  My friends, who feel like family...or at least an authentic support net.  My sister, with whom I am closer than I was before.

And me.  My relationship with myself that I did not know I was missing.  I'm having fun lately, doing stuff I have never done or at least in a long time done.  Playing dress up.  Buying expensive underwear so that I can look hot and sexy.  FOR ME. To not have to ask forgiveness for not meeting the standards of people I felt the need to get approval from (and never really getting).

Complete and unconditional reconciliation with myself.  It is tentative, almost prissy, little baby steps that I take forward...but with each movement, it feels so good.  So right.