Its a Merry Christmas

My Christmas gift.
A day encapsulated by joy and happiness by so many people, Christian or not-- it feels uplifting and PRESENT (yes, pun intended).

I sit here, drinking my coffee and waiting for my kids to be dropped off.  And I think…
Life REALLY is about hurdles, the good and the bad.  Sometimes I may choose to brush off the bad as though it did not exist, to PUSH them off, turn my back on the hurt.  It takes so much effort, to not acknowledge the pain, to try and not feel the fear of the unknown. It exhausts me and sucks out my energy, my soul.  So much so that when anything “good” pops up, I swallow it whole without letting myself feel that as well. Swallowed in desperation instead of savoring a good moment as a delicious bite.  And, I know that is not the path I should take. No "denial" ends well, generally speaking.

Yes, what has happened was personally devastating to me, but I know now that this will not be the definition of who I am.  It is not the ENDNOTE for me (nor is it for you).  Who I am now has become an interesting mixture of events and, just as importantly, the core of who I am as a person.  I am required to focus on my needs, my desire to become healthy, my desire to make sure the kids are truly happy. To survive.  And guess what:  I want MORE than that too; I want to LIVE AGAIN, plug into this life that is truly there, waiting for me.  My dear friends, it is WAITING FOR US.

******

I have lost 25 lbs, not from stress but from diet.  I look good because I have also been exercising, using it as a way to release my ever-rising, constant anxieties- ironically now an inverse relationship to how I look (high anxiety=in shape body).  Work is very good in that in the short timespan from my return to a full time job (after a 10 year hiatus as a SAHM, then two additional years working up to three part time jobs), I have been entrusted with more responsibility reflective of a decent salary.  It is my career, the one I always planned to have and go back to some day (and now, it is "the day").  Even better, my work hours still let me be there for my kids more than I ever anticipated (though that promises to change as they get concurrently older (older kids=will work more hours). My self esteem is rising, no longer directly tamped down by an "in residence" donnie downer.  My son says I seem happier, and not as irritable or unhappy as I used to be (to be referred to as during the long-past, "dark days of despair", or "ddd").

It’s not perfect and that is okay, it need not be.  In fact, I know some days will still suck, and royally:  LOL.  It is OKAY:  How else can I become fearless, without having the chance to face fear (Bless you, Pema Chodron). I am a spiritual warrior in the true sense, because I will fight, I will scrap and claw my determined way into being kind to myself.  I WILL embrace the positive energy and savor it, embracing the negative energies and then LETTING THEM GO authentically back into the quiet chattering fabric of life.
When this first happened, I took small, frightened, tentative steps of someone who had been abused, with only the understanding of someone with a lifetime of low self esteem.  It makes me human, compassionate (I think) because seeing that same pain in another person brings a feeling of passion that wants me to say to them:  IT WILL BE OKAY.  JUST KNOW THIS_ IT WILL BE OKAY!!!  Feel the sad, face the pain, and then let it go.  If you feel your life was supposed to be something else and now it is not?   Do not fear this, because this journey will bring you to heights you may never have known otherwise.  In fact, I promise you…it will.  Life will move forward, and sooner than you think.  And then, shockingly, JOY will wander in and out (as it always had before).  FACE THAT TOO, and acknowledge that happiness (though you may be afraid to).  IT WILL BE OKAY.  LIVE YOUR LIFE AS THE PERSON WHO YOU WISH TO BE- JOYOUS, IN CONTROL OF WHO YOU ARE OR WISH TO BECOME.  UNDERSTAND THAT LIFE IS STILL THERE FOR US, NO MATTER WHAT.

I ASK THAT ALL WHO READ THIS, GIVE THEMSELVES THE (NON-DENOMINATIONAL) GIFT OF BEING KIND TO THEMSELVES.  If it is too foreign, then please, start with just today…

*****

Amazingly, it is now three years out since he walked out (tears in my eyes, my heart feeling like lead, dead).  I wanted him home, whole and healed.  I wanted him to love me as I still loved him.  Abuse aside, he had been my husband for over two decades years, my partner for almost three.  We were kids when we met, and have grown up together- loving, squabbling, building that life as a family.  Our little ones added to our joy, and I thought our life plan was complete.  Cracks in our relationship were there, no question, but in my mind- You DON’T LEAVE FAMILY, you help and support them.  The unerring faith that he was my family, and I was his- til death do us part, a joyous testament of faith, love, and commitment. 

Those “thought” shards will someday dull, though never completely leave- I know this.  I will respect that.  Yet perhaps they will someday dull further and transform into some kind of visceral seaglass.  Edges worn down, made into a thing beautiful and collectable. I truly mean it. For this process has transformed me, and let me become who I am now becoming.  Beautiful and secure in my own skin.  
*******
Loving kindness to myself means that I will acknowledge that my feelings are still there, to appreciate them , to laugh and hug myself.  And then to wake up and face my day.  And what is really cool, is that I am NOT the precedent.  It is a way of life highly recommended for all, because we all have this: the bad, the good.  And that is, pretty f’ing awesome (if you pardon my French).

Its actually my 52nd birthday, this Christmas Day.  Most people are shocked, saying I look like I am in my early 40s.  Good genes, healthy life.  Go figure.

Merry Christmas to all, and Happy birthday to me.  God bless to all of you.

My year of detox

I stare at this blank page and struggle to find the words to express how I feel.

I thought I have been doing well, incorporating all the "healthy" things to get over the devastation of my divorce experience.  Exercising, training for 5ks.  Losing weight- my old friends are shocked at how skinny I look, saying it looks like I lost 30 lbs (though its really about 20).  Changing my diet to that of pescatarian. Focusing on work.  Focusing on the loving kindness that seems to be the one thing that helps me spiritually to overcome that sense of profound unworthiness that has followed me throughout my life, and had been accentuated by exhusband's behavior and disparaging comments.  Hoping that I have been a good parent, yet never sure because my kids are happy but not emotive when it comes to talking about how they feel being shuttled back and forth between two homes.  I have dubbed this my year of "detox" to denote my own spiritual, emotional, and physical transformation into the positive, happy, and self-sufficient person I have aspired to me all my life.  Unafraid, UNAFRAID.

External factors, personal and raw to the touch, feels like it pulls me down from those goals.  Three years after my ex's departure, he has this past week set up his new home with his girlfriend and her son, moving onward while framing our kids into his new world as it suits him, I feel diminished once more.   Setting up a house with bedrooms for our kids, while having cut out everything to do with my life, even when it is about the welfare of our kids (and of course, money, always the money).

That is the source of my fear most of all: the feeling that my kids are being taken away and placed in this world without me, where it is okay for my ex to have treated me so horribly, abusively, and still come out a "winner" with his new girlfriend, his new house, his bounty of salary fostering his "rich" lifestyle, concurrent with his blatant and continued refusal to pay for our children's needs which makes me struggle to make my own needs met at home.  I feel AFRAID.

I am struggling to find purchase in the slippery soil of my healing soul.  The fear is paralyzing, of being alone, of being destitute, of having no support or real friends, lovers, family.  The scary desire to make the pain stop, though I have no suicidal disposition.  It just hurts so badly.

Pema Chodron would encourage me to dig in, to use the opportunity to embrace this fear and really experience it.  To forgive and love myself, and accept the feeling of being alone, and to not to be lonely.  I don't want to disappoint: her, but even more so, me.  And I guess she would feel satisfied, because the pain is real and PRESENT.  I am trying to remember what to do as I acknowledge it, even push in to it because it is as if I am drowning, deeper and deeper. Can't breathe.  And at the same time, the words "loving kindness" are heard in my ears, invisible wisps of ghostly thought.

I pray to God, and to my mama to help me.  And AGAIN. Loving kindness.  Forgive myself and reconcile that who I want to become (and could not, with him) is still developing.  To remember that this is my BIG chance to finally reconcile myself with who I want to be, desire in life, to be happy
and fulfilled.  To accept this gift of opportunity to learn that it is not only okay to be alone, right now,
but that it can be glorious.  To not think it is a permanent experience, but a transformative, positive one.

Tomorrow is today

I am fighting to maintain a positive and open outlook in my life despite the ever frequent moments of angst that crosses my mind, usually when I am alone.

When he first left, my early morning moments were disastrous, grievous.  I missed him, I mourned our loss and the frightening unknown that now loomed before me.  It took a great deal to allow myself the strength to oust him from our lives, having learned it was better to live alone than with crazy.

Four years later, that thought has not changed, for my reminders exist within the few direct interactions that I allow to exist between myself and the "ex".  He is no longer the man I knew, but then again, I am no longer that woman he knew, I can say joyously.

But then who am I?  Do we all change in like manner regardless of the road we are on? Certainly that must be true to some extent, and I find the thought comforting.  I am not a freak like those hapless individuals portrayed on television.  Listing, lost, searching for a home.  Or am I?

"You are doing so well now."  "What a role model." "You are so strong."  Within these contexts offered by my friends and supporters, it may be true that I have adapted; survived for the sake of myself and the kids.  Boundaries are a huge sanity tool.  Yet there still looms those "truths" that I wonder are apparent to anyone else besides myself.  I am ALONE.  And in truth that would be okay if given other unsavory alternatives (see above under "lessons learned". )

No one, to my knowledge, ever passed overtly from loneliness.  But it's there, settled between the chores for house, the children's needs, my teaching load, my work responsibilities, my bills, my worries, my sanity.  Settled in, like a hummingbird in its nest..humming, thronging away in a subliminal text form.  Apparent most in my early morning hours, sometimes more and sometimes (blessedly) less.

The spiritual experts, referring to those individuals who likely had to deal with their own $hit and survived beyond the realms of "just surviving"-  lead us to ways on how to cope, view life and provide a philosophical basis upon which to grow. Tenuous tendrils reaching into my brain, planting in these thoughts that I might actually pull this thing off (life?).

But I awoke today, in physical pain from my body hurts.  In loneliness, and sad exhaustion from the day to day responsibilities of the week, continuing forward into my today.  Not sure where I can go with this, but I hope it is up.  I guess I will see, riding the Chodron wave like a semi amateur surfer.

Transformative blues

Being a divorced woman on the face of it, is a little like being the only nun in an all girls school.  The metaphor acknowledges that we are all women with all the same body parts, yet I am now "different"?  But why that is, I don't know.  I grew up feeling this way, that much I know.    I feel alone, abandoned.

My allies say that I am a role model..to my kids, to my coworkers, to my friends and peers.  If they only knew the degree of angst that I live in, the extent probably known only by my ex now, who capitalized on this knowledge by trying to "make me pay" at the outset of our marriage's demise.

What is wrong with me?  My Dad, and my ex would point that out at the culmination of our relationships, each in their own mean ways.  What is wrong with Y-O-U, that everyone leaves you in the end?  And in truth, tonight that is exactly how I feel..with the footnote saying it'd better be dead than to hurt.  Those are words of hurt; belying "worlds" of hurt.

****

I sip my hot green tea hoping that the chill that permeates everything in me would just go away.

And slowly it does, although the answer I hope will magically appear fails to show.

Who am I?? Is it me or destiny, or the undeniable embroidery of life that stitched together the unmovable pattern that I am to be alone always.  I am not desperate, I know and am learning to guard, my feeling of self-value.  I hurt, yet I do not know where to go with this.  I look at men I find attractive, and I feel like I am leering at them.  I soldier it on, pretending as best I can that it is not there hoping it soon won't be.  Am I a loser?

I work out fiendishly now, possessed by a need to transform into the person I want to become.  The underlying fear also exists (I will admit) that I also won't look good for the  guy that I might want.  I look for in myself the person that I want; the person I want to be. It is a perilous thing; not knowing the future.  I must stay out of the moshpit while I seek to heal myself; grow strong, to be well.

Sad

On this lonely night, my kids safe somewhere in our home, I am still faced with my internal question:
Is it possible to die of loneliness?

Love Grifters: understanding greed

Wandering lies in malice of the heart; seeking wounded keepers of hope.  Dark souls of greed; 

Move on for God watches in all things, silently.  The white paths from the bones of those left behind paving your way into darkness.

Little pride as anchored whores to shame.  Who are the fortunate ones?

The summer after divorce

What I learned the summer after my divorce

To think that I could get to the point where I no longer feel decimated by devastating loss, sadness, and imploding low self esteem and instead to a place of lone strength seems like fiction; yet here it is.  After five years when that line was crossed into the area of "never-should-do", followed by heartbreaking loss , I can actually say I am okay. And when I am NOT okay, I can still say, I am okay.

Now when there is crazy making behavior on his side, I can laugh or just shrug it off.  Crazy left my house in the body of me ex, and now though it may be filled with occasional sadness and frequent loneliness (I can not lie, not to myself), a weird transition has also been happening.  I feel stronger.

My one "real" experience in emotional connection, since then,with another man ended in a miserable fail, and yet I survived.  I think about him, this man, because though the experience was largely via text and email, it was incredibly exciting.  It was HOT. The experience itself made it incredibly clear to me that there are men with whom a "click" was possible, where the mental could be much much hotter in psychological foreplay than I ever knew possible.  Even more surprising, was the intensity of attraction that I could feel including a libido that I thought long dead.

Unfortunately, the actual meeting was an epic fail and to this day I still wonder what happened.  I had sent him "selfie" pictures, earnest and real.  I had spoken with him for weeks, in fact the night prior we had texted for three hours.  Yet even during my train ride into the city, I could hear his angst (via text) rising, a negativity that seemed to blossom now that he knew we would be meeting in flesh.  And then when the actual face-to-face moment happened, it was every horrible blind date gone awry.  He had wandered into a cheesy bar because he could not meet me at my train (Hint #1 that he would not be placing me high on the list of willing to suck up any "discomfort" for me).  Then he refused to go to any "nice" place anywhere in the city, clearly wishing to go somewhere close to "get it over with".  The outfit I had chosen to wear was an epic fail, or particularly my sexy platform heels were- inarguably the worst shoes to jaunt about Manhattan (trying to keep up with a tall and depressed man).  In truth, it would have been a laughable event, if it had not hurt so much.  Quintessential Woody Allen in action, I still liked him and he clearly did not like or want me.  I had really, unexpectedly, become infatuated with this smart, funny, and sensitive man who was, to my mind, incredibly good looking.  The gigantic caveat, of course, he was a man that early on I knew I could not have immediately if for no other reason that  he was still married,  not even legally separated, and living under the same roof as his (ex-to-be) partner.  Previously so kind and attentive in electronic form, this flesh and blood man was neurotic, rude, and desperately unhappy.  At the end of our date, he made it clear we would be "buddies" and that I "deserved so much more" ---> the translation clearly noting that he was so unattracted to the "real" me and that I was an epic disappointment in my own right to him.  Damn, I was still (and am) attracted to him because this was not the H that I knew, something clearly affecting him, his psyche.

The thing was, I knew that my lessons from the recent past were also testing me.  I could hear the bile rising on my throat at one point, as I relived the sneer of my ex telling me internally, "See? You suck, you fat C*nt" (ironically later as the ex was getting ready to leave for good, his memory protected him well since he insisted in NEVER USING THAT word).   Yet at this moment, my boundaries raised up- "Shields up Scotty".  I will not play the "pick me" dance anymore, not for anyone except perhaps myself.  Those words from The Help come to mind; "you is good, you is smart, you is kind".  I grab hold onto the thought as a life preserver.

Since then, my interactions online with other men have been pale by comparison.  I have not felt that audible click again, and my new "awakening" has brought me to a place of some guarding.  I do not wish to find someone who will let me know they think I am gross again (though, in retrospect, there was more to it than that with H, I think- or is that just wishful?).  And at the same equal footing, I will not pursue a man, any man, with whom I felt that same attraction with H, when I am into him but he is not with me.  I will not play the pick me dance, I AM worth more than that.  My last text to him was earnest in thanking him- I meant what I said and offered him my real friendship; for whether he was or not- I felt and still do, an odd caring and tremendously strong attraction towards him.  But I am a big girl, and, to be equally respectful to myself as well as him, it would have to be his next move.  I do not think nor expect this to happen.  As he noted, he was so sad all the time because of where he was currently standing on his life's corner.  And I hope he soon turns his corner, for his sake soon, as it has already done for me. To be able to breathe again out of that Hell is like no longer gasping for air in a zero tolerance room.

But, as for me, I am now like a live wire on flame-- having the faucet turned on after having been shut for so many years..I am burning hot, hot, hot.  I use this excess energy to run, to focus on work, to do what I need to do. But I am hot!  Uncompromising, but hot! Spiritually growing, internally affirming, emotionally healing....but!  And intrinsically, because my good girl tendencies run strong, my inner conflict continually bite me in the ass, because unlike the flirty flirt girl that I met only just yesterday- I can not grab any man and "go for it" (though I might want to, my drive is hurting that badly!)..  I am waiting (and God help the man with whom the click happens, and the stars align in earnest, for my libido may end up killing that man...).

Message in a bottle

In quiet moments I look within, hearing and feeling my ego.  She is fragile and sensitive to the touch, I look at her and she is blue, bruised, marked. Why does she look so sad, I wonder.  So much good, so many blessings- i want her to pull out and feel the joy, the joy of knowing.

We all send out our message in the bottle, seeking the help from the out.  And yet today, it feels like help can only come from the look within.

Low self esteem

Sadness in the space of two hours 

Lists aimlessly on the wave of despair.

I am not enough.

I am done, in the tiny space of who I am. What does it mean to not be wanted, to not be enough, when the wanting is there.

It is sad but it is okay. I trip the life fantastic, I live the life of teal, blue skies. The thundering sky resonates while my land struggles to rise. 

I will not do the pick me dance. I will not try to move the light reflections towards rainbows.  It is what it is.  I hurt while I find me. I will resonate within my needs of reality, Shame do

I feel shame. Sadness I feel sadness. Loneliness as I feel the seconds tripping through time. Sad.

Personality  rubs rejection floods in on top of the disdain that spread beyond the folds of want

God it hurts to see the look the separation of I am not enough. I hear his voice. I am not enough. I hear his voice, I am not enough- all grown up but I am not enough.  It is real but its translucent. Its palpable but it is so soft. 

Listing just listing..into the wandering of dark.. Fighting the feeling I suck..I suck i suck the life out of joy i suck

Leaving fantasy world and touching ground

I have a very good friend to call when I am in the midst of inner turmoil.  It could be over many things, but for tonight it is because I am going on my first date in 30 years.  A date with a man I originally discounted because he is still too early in the divorce game.  Hell. He is not even legally separated yet and lives under the same roof as his wife and two kids, whom he refers to as his ex.

But after two weeks of talking to him via emails and texts, I am really attracted to him and want to know more about him.   Early on I made it clear I could not have a romantic relationship with a married man, yet here I am planning to meet him.  My friends are both happy yet worried for me- they tell me to go but to stay grounded.

Its an important idea, for as soon as my date plans were firmed up, I panicked.  All the doubts rose up about my desirability towards men, my self recriminations about my self worth and, to be honest, my concerns about his current relationship status.  I know firmly, I will not have sex with this man.  Nor will I consider it until he was out from the marital arrangement both legally and physically.

My worry that I will like him, however, haunts me and is underscored by the greater fear of his rejection. Until my friend Kim reminds me.

Stay in the moment.  Do not worry about yesterday or tomorrow.  Think about the now.  Then she reminds me that I have God who lives me, and my girlfriends and I don't truly need anyone else.  Be present. Stay in the moment.  I am enough.

Summer

For so many years I questioned myself as a woman; my validity and self esteem values held low and unworthy.  The original seed of this fruit was planted when I was young, fostered by the combination of an overly sensitive and shy temperament, with loving yet somewhat aloof parents.  No blame of events nor disdain at this point, for I realize these things have made me who I am.  And this personal identity which I now carry with me, is good.

In a marriage that was one sided for so many years, I continued my self blame...thinking I was asexual, and alone.   Who would want me, this fat and gross thing?  I covered it up as best I could lest anyone find out that "truth".   Super-overachiever with a handle on everything and anything, I controlled and commandeered what I could.  A husband who was willing to let me because it was easier and so he did not have to- fostered by his own feelings of low self esteem and distraction.  He too, lived in a place of hiding- from me, himself, and the world lest he be "found" out.  His ability to intimidate any challengers, chest bumping lines made him the offensive linebacker in our marriage.  I was the quarterback, doing the deeds and the needs.

It worked, but this dynamic was fostered on shaky cement.  We were not in a place to foster and encourage (to make it to the end goal anyway) the needs for a truly balanced relationship.  And this gave way to the foundation of our house, our family.

Today, I forgive myself my foibles and that, in itself, is hugely liberating.  I wish, I pray, I feel.  I dream.  And i take care of myself, with tentative steps to try on shoes of better self-image.  I try on the feeling of feeling pretty, without laughing or internally sneering at myself.  Whoopi Goldberg in the Color Purple, with her hand over her mouth to hide her smile- to hide her vulnerability- no more!  And this makes me feel released from having to do everything, BE everything.  The people or person outside myself are/is no longer there to encourage that conflicted tiger persona...and that is bliss.  I can be myself, without blame (inside my house anyway).

Where this will lead I do not know.  It still feels tentative, although by now my steps are so much more assured.  I will continue to grow and challenge positively myself and my self image.  To even try to tackle myself in toto, as a beautiful (and even sexual?? Gasp) woman or, just: as a good and valid human being.  To let this grow into my authentic and fully real skin. Excitement.

PTSD

Ptsd and the after-effects of abusive behavior

What it is that distinguishes one person from the next from developing post- traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) is still pretty unclear.  It is probably a combination of factors: the level of trauma, the support system of the individual, the inner stability and assurance that a person may develop from childhood that "all is okay".

I don't know.  But what I am fairly certain is that I have PTSD.  And why I know this, is because I can still react to its triggers with what I remember from when he was home (hurtling back in time, like a timetraveller!)...  The hyperarousal (whats that sound?!), the fear (especially the fear), the sense of crunchiness of all those familiar eggshells.

In short, it sucks. Having him served for noncompliance, I seek my day in court; no, I am forced to.  No money, no health insurance for the kids, no childcare or tutoring costs, we can not make it easily... And after a week of hunting for him (and time growing short before the court date), the process server states he has to serve him when he drops the kids off here after his "weekly night out". I tell him, okay, but not until the kids come in...My stomach is in knots.  I am afraid, though I can not express it, he will be angry, I am sure.  

And he is. He is "a wild man", according to the server- who states he threw the papers back at the female process server, and would have kept at it if her male associate had not jumped out.  I heard his BMW rip away with a screech...as I herd my kids upstairs.

I know it was something I had to do.  His refusal now to pay ANY support, even as he talks to the kids about the house he is going to buy, and the fact that his girlfriend. and son will be moving in....goes on. Or as he tells them over another expensive dinner in a restaurant, before he takes them to the store to buy some toys...(those are not bad things actually, I'd rather he'd feed them well than not, ...).
The timing could have been better but there was no choice.  And the secondary part of what I think is PTSD seeps in.  The guilt, the feeling of sickness that it's "me".  "All me".  The feeling of learned helplessness that tells me that its not going to work out and no matter what he will feel and do fine by not paying ANYTHING now...and I will have to scramble for the second and possibly third job to make up the difference.

Or the guilt that the amount he WAS paying as per assigned via state laws on child support formulas is generally way more than anyone  i have heard receives...but it just barely covering our expenses even with my salary.  I am proud of the latter because my wages are decent even after having been a SAHM For 13 years.

But its not enough.  I am trying to keep it right for my kids (and even for me, as I have started to fund, minimally at least, my retirement fund).  I pray he is forced to provide the child support, having offered not to pursue maintenance (after 24 years) so that I could get the best custody arrangement he would agree to (though he swore he'd never "give" me money for me).  But I feel weak.  It feels like he will be able to pay nothing, the lack of power is oppressive.  But he must not know about it.

So.. Abuse is a funny thing.  It makes the giver feel strong, and the receiver feel weak. And even as I have passed that aspect of it, and applied full force boundaries against this man who has become a nasty and unkind narcissist (though, I despise labels because it cuckholds people into boxes, and never tells the whole truth about them), i feel helpless and afraid behind closed doors.

I write, to cope.  I keep quiet and try to find my way.  I call my own friend who is a support, having lived through her own Hell.  But it is so hard.  What this has done to me, i am afraid to know.  Kindness from strangers, sets off my tears.  Why, I don't know..except to say that kindness seems so foreign now.

Sucktitude

06.05.2014

My ownership of what went wrong in my marriage rears itself up at the craziest times.  Like, just now as I was pulling into my driveway, I was reminded of how I used to nag him about whether or not a certain bill was paid.  “Did you pay the cable bill? How about now? Now?!”  And inevitably, it would not have been, he having been too busy in his legitimately busy professional career. The persistent feeling that our home life was not a priority in his reality, made me press harder, then harder as his return home started to get later and later. 

The other issue was his desire to socialize in what I considered an alcoholic haze.  Through much of our marriage, he did not overdrink, but truthfully it was likely because of my watchful (read: fearful) eye to assure that he was not driving drunk home, he was not going to do something to endanger the kids or us on the way home, and truthfully, because it just SUCKED being with someone who made an ass of himself being the party boy while I had to sit and watch.  No, not fun.  So my bitch mode would be on suspenseful “lock-and-load” mode whenever we would go out, worried that like the days before our marriage he would lose control; as in before a dating period when truthfully he lived his teens and early 20s in a drunken boisterous social life being the life of the bar. The alcoholic party guy who was the life of the party.

We were so different.  There are people now who love his spirited charm as they would see it, I’m sure.  But being married to it, wasn’t fun- and I felt like I had to be the parent of our kids and HIM all the time.  Did our bills get paid? Did the doctor’s appointments get set up?  Did the food get bought?  Did our retirement investments get invested?  No? Then I have to do it.  And I did.  It was an endless cycle of responsibilities that had been instilled in me at a young age, as IMPERATIVE to do to stay safe in life.  My baggage, my fear to be sure that fed nicely into his willingness to have someone else take care of the necessities.  It sucked.

*****

Let me rein myself back in now, because this little diatribe is meant to be about ME, not him. Because as he liked to say, I guess in many ways, I DID suck.  I sucked big-time.  And it was not for reasons that I would have preferred (if there was such a thing to feel good about sucking).  Apparently, I was not in touch with the real root of the problem- being that my philosophy in life, the life of the worker ant who worked to stay safe, or the Capricorn who was meant to be grounded and stable in the realm of real life..just did not mesh well when faced with someone who did not feel that same way, at least for their own  personal lifestyle.

The more he pushed away, pushed back from the consistent and caring for our life staples (albeit happy for me to do it, just not him when he did not feel like it), the more ANXIOUS I became, pushing back to make, then FORCE,  him to see that this was important stuff that we both needed to do.  For BOTH of US, not just me.  I thought I was being a helpful and supportive wife, and I was.  But nope, it was not to be that he would see it, believe it.  As things turned, I was perceived as a harpy, a nag who did not want to hang out for extended periods in a bar (for at the end, that is where he wanted to be..with his buddies).  Now, he is at his OWs parties, family, friends, cousins..doing what he does best. And that is good- that my own conflict has been released so that now I can be the person I am- with someone who does not make me suck.  To let me honor what I believe to be the right thing, and even, allow me to bring out my own little grasshopper.

***

So now I am contemplating this little conundrum of the past.    I wanted to become the grasshopper playing in the field for a while, to be allowed to have someone else take care of business, while I hung out and partied.  But it would have been a bit of a lie, because a true grasshopper ultimately doesn’t care if that work is done or not…and that would drive this ant (dressed in fake grasshopper garb) nuts.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to dance in the rain sometimes.  Even worker ants get to party sometimes.

All the great and inspirational speakers that I have been reading (not to say I have read them all, just as many as my brain could digest on these cold, lonely Saturday nights) say that to be truly happy you must honor yourself, open yourself up to the experience of life- the part that stinks as well as the part that sings.  AND most importantly, own up to your own vulnerabilities, your own SUCKITUDE and then accept it as part of who you are.  It’s okay, because in the end, we all suck- just in different ways.  And if we didn’t, how boring that life would be.

My partner in life, should he ever step forward will have to accept me for who I am.  And for me to accept him, he would have to help me take on the weight of our little breadcrumb, shoring it up on his shoulders at times when he doesn’t want to--just as he might expect me to do the same.  And maybe, we could dance in the rain together…or even alone, celebrating and laughing to our balanced shares of suckiness. 

It’s a dream I have, but hey, it is a start….

I have lost my people; and that may be okay

I have lost my people; and that may be okay

When I was a child growing up in the suburbs of Long Island, there was a time when I felt like I did not fit in.  

Prior to that moment, I was intensely and immensely shy, the quintessential kid hanger-on to my big sister.  I was a nuisance, I know, because I did not feel comfortable with kids my own age but was really too young to relate to children my (four years) older sibling's age.  But I held on, and followed my sister around like a puppy, until finally, she had "had enough", having entered her auspicious teen years. 

After that I was on my own and I, truthfully, floundered.  Why this was the case, I am unsure of and what my parents could have done to make it easier for me is unclear.  I am sure Mom would have, but I don't think I agreed to any of her efforts to get me involved with girl scouts, or other friends.  So she eventually gave up.

As an adult now, I think about why it was so difficult for me to integrate in other social circles.  Truth is, it still is.  Am I maladapted or is there something inherently wrong with me, as my ex husband had said? He was the man that wanted to come home and do nothing, unless I set up events for us.  And we had a thriving couples social agenda at one point, having met girlfriends through our kids school, we pulled the husbands subsequently into the monthly rounds of poker games, Bbq, girls' nights out.  But even then, truth be told, I did not fit in.  

I felt different in two ways: low self esteem has ruined my body image- and so many of my friends were stunning, I felt, next to me (though I am not unattractive I know, my bar seems to always be set to supercritical when it comes to myself). It is as though, growing up, I learned to think of myself as the pain in the ass, never meeting up to expectations person.  Knowing this, unfortunately, does not change this feeling (though I wish it did!).

The second huge differentiating thing is that I am a science geek- who loves to think about biology of the human organism, how things work, the research behind it, etc.  My ex never got it, though I would say he would support my endeavors, in his way. He bought me flowers at my PhD defense, and took me out to dinner.  But then he would wonder away, never being able to or interested really, in engaging me in conversation about these things.  Fair trade, I guess, since I could not to his satisfaction do the same thing with his industry.  Our disconnect reached into many different areas, but were amplified only at the end.  I don't think it is not a prerequisite for two partners to hold identical interests, but I guess in our case, it would not have hurt.  In the end, he said it was "me, me, me".

The only other time that my social ring felt tight, good, and secure was in my late teens into my early twenty-somethings.  I "found" myself finally, with a group of girls with whom I thought I could relate completely.  Not so much as people who were the same, for we were not.  In fact, we were all so different.   My first "ring" held the school valedictorian, brilliant and misunderstood by her peers; the "cool" girl into Neil Young and a propensity for the word "like" ("you know-like?"), and myself.  It was a good alliance as we navigated through high school, amongst the other social rings (inexplicably all circles in our own similar teenage forms of disconnect).  The second ring transition immediately after graduation, as I started college and met my friends during which I think of as my own "cool" phase.  Friends made from my afterschool independent study job in high school had blossomed into a partying, fun group- stuff I hope my own kids don't end up following in many ways, I will admit.  I sank some of my low self esteem into a place that let me hide behind a facade, not altogether good.  But it was, at the same time, glorious to be part of my pact.  Still sticking out, I felt, as the smart girl who could not meet up to others' standards (even in the partying crowd, I could not meet up to expectations!).  

It has been my signature, I guess, to pull along that feeling of "being different".  Over the years I have found those I could relate to: my pact, or tribe, or whatever you want to call it.  But then something happens and a veil comes down...and the fog (or wall) slips in, unknowingly, quietly...and I am alone again, surrounded by different people, different faces, it's true.  

I have friends, and yes, many are close: my new people.  At this point though, I hold myself in guard- to realize that they, too, may, and if history is to teach, will leave eventually.

But then there is something else.  I look closely at those around me now. And for the first time, wonder if it is not true for everyone?  Our lives are transitory, our individual experiences bring new things to our plate.  Being open, unquestioning, and not second guessing those events, appears to me, to be the way to experience life.  My own angst has been to feel life's changes are due to some inherent flaw to myself...but perhaps this is NOT the case??  At least not in the way I think.  I think so many people can roll with these changes, albeit the slips in and out of people are often subtle and friends, significant others, etc. do not typically slide out in one fell swoop with the tide.  

The devastating trauma of being left behind (as I HEAR my narcissistic ex roll his eyes and mutter, "get over it"), makes me think that I don't want to think of this as a bad thing anymore.  This could really be a chance to find myself, to not second guess anymore.  Life changes because it does.  

Pulling along bad low self esteem and negative outlooks on life can result in pulling in other negative people also, who like you, can be equally incapable of seeing a more positive outlook on life.  This may result n feeling like you have made a much needed alliance, one that feels like you belong, that you are "normal", but in the end...it can just suck.  Because ultimately, the great prize is to learn to live a life free of angst or 

retribution, and to just live in joy for every new day that rolls in.  To not second guess if this is what I should be doing, but doing as you feel o should.  And to enjoy, to revel in it as best you can, authentically.

The mentality of the "OW" (aka an exercise in stupidity)

Why does an "OW"be willingly involved in inflicting pain on another human being? WTH could they be thinking?

*******

 

PUBLISHED: 07:40 EST, 18 May 2012 

Mary Richardson Kennedy, 52, was found hanged by a housekeeper on Wednesday in a barn on her Westchester estate.

Friends and other documents revealed she was drowning in credit card debt, feared she would lose both her home and her children and was getting destroyed by her husband in the divorce court.

Speaking from the estate he shared with his wife for 16 years yesterday, Kennedy Jr told the New York Times: 'A lot of times I don’t know how she made it through the day. She was in a lot of agony for a lot of her life.'

Despite this, the 58-year-old continued to file multiple restraining orders against Mary and tried to get full custody of the children by claiming she was an unfit mother, according to sources - all while he publicly replaced her with his actress girlfriend, Cheryl Hines.

A close friend told the New York Post: 'He was kicking her while she’s down, all alone in this house that she built. In the end, everything was just too much.'

 

'She loved him. Her family and her home [were] her heart and soul. Even after they separated, she was pretending everything was fine. She’d still call him her husband. It was bizarre and sad.'

Mary was also said to be drowning in debt. American Express filed a civil suit against her in Westchester on April 16 and she did not know how she was going to source the money.

 

Friends said Bobby Kennedy was trying to cut the amount of child support he was giving her and she had no access to the Kennedy trust fund. 'Every member of my family, long before I married her, considered her a Kennedy'Robert F. Kennedy Jr

Mary - who was once a successful architect but gave it up to look after her children - was petrified of being evicted from the $4million estate which she meticulously renovated two years ago, making it Eco-friendly.

It was just one month after the house was complete that Kennedy filed for divorce.

 

 

Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2146356/Mary-Kennedy-death-Robert-Kennedy-Jr-reveals-ex-wifes-life-long-struggle-depression.html#ixzz32j8Ckzlo 

 

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"Curb Your Enthusiasm, kids! Actress Cheryl Hines is engaged to Robert F. Kennedy Jr., Us Weekly can confirm....

 

The couple first started dating in 2012 .......

 

Kennedy, 60, will make his third trip down the aisle: He was previously wed to first wife Emily Ruth Black, with whom he had two children. He also has four children with his second wife, Mary Richardson, who committed suicide in 2012.

 

Read more: http://www.usmagazine.com/celebrity-news/news/cheryl-hines-robert-f-kennedy-engaged-201495#ixzz32j9M2MQn 

 

 

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Curb Your Enthusiasm, kids! Actress Cheryl Hines is engaged to Robert F. Kennedy Jr., Us Weekly can confirm.

 

Hines explained why she and the activist—who hails from the most famous political dynasty in America—mesh so well together

 

"We share the same values," the Ugly Truth star said. "Family first.

 

 We like to have a good time and work hard.” She added, “It’s fun to have a partner . . . It’s a good match-up.”

 

When they're not traveling together, the couple enjoys volunteering and promoting their respective causes. "It's fun to have a partner," she explained to Us in April. "He's so dedicated to the environment and clean water, so we take turns. He'll come to my United Cerebral Palsy event and walk the red carpet with me. It's a good match up."

 

"I really like this guy," she said at the UCLA event that honored the attorney, calling the father of six "a devoted dad and an all-around good guy." 

 

Read more: http://www.usmagazine.com/celebrity-news/news/cheryl-hines-robert-f-kennedy-engaged-201495#ixzz32j9kzWnD