Thirty-Eight

Yes, I am still here world. For the few people who read this, I'm sure you have been wondering. I made a big announcement months ago, then fell off the face of the blogosphere. No worries. I just haven't had much time or desire to get on here. I started this blog just for myself, to try and work out all my "issues" about my life and my body and my mind. I don't think I intended for this blog to become such a focus on the negative aspects of my little world, but that's what happened. And I just really needed to take a step back from it for awhile. Like I've mentioned before, my other blogs are for friends and family to see all my photos, to hear about all the places A and I go, to catch up on our life since we live so very far away from everyone we know. So this blog was for me. I honestly intended for it to be a journal, and a bit of self-prescribed therapy. But it seemed as though all I ever did was dwell on the most horrible and depressing parts of my days. This weekend, I thought about this blog, and decided that it didn't HAVE to be so ugly and bitter and dark. Most of the time, therapy is about dealing with your problems and finding solutions to them, and incorporating the solutions into your real life. I wasn't doing any of that, I was just pissing and moaning here, and that is not the kind of "journal" I really wanted this to be. I thought this blog was wasting my time. It did feel good to write out some of the burdensome anger I was still feeling towards X, but even that flame eventually flickered out. After all, I haven't lived with the man for six years now, and I will never see him again. It is time I stopped even thinking about him at all. There is no room for my creepy former husband, in this world I now share with my amazing new husband. And now, many of the issues I had when I started this blog, have changed. My big life change that I announced back in October was that I got a full time job finally. It's just an office job, but it gives me a reason to get out of bed in the mornings, and makes me feel worthy and useful and needed and normal. So now instead of being stuck in my old prison of this lonely house, I am out the door at 7am and come crawling back home- exhausted in a good way- at 6pm. No time to sit around and feel so trapped, so depressed, so isolated. My boss tells me all the time what a wonderful job I'm doing, and how quickly I'm learning the work, and how she's happy to have found me. It's nice to be appreciated and wanted, even if it is at the office. A gets home an hour or two after me, and I feel as though I've barely had time to miss him. I still have my physical therapy once or twice a month, but I do still have really bad days where sometimes I don't think I will get through the pain. Now I've learned to rely on a heating pad instead of painkillers, and A will massage my hip and back and leg when it's unbearable, and there are nights where his caring touch is the only thing that brings me peace, and sleep. And recently A and I have discussed moving, even though we just bought this brand new house little over a year ago. He, too, feels the isolation on this dead end country road. The house is too big for just the two of us, the yard too huge and open. He loves working in the yard, refuses to pay a lawn service to mow, but he said these two acres are almost too much for him to manage, and it becomes a dreaded chore instead of a beloved and enjoyable afternoon outside. He said he knows this house is too much for me to manage, especially with my pain and the fact that my therapist has told me I absolutely MUST not vacuum or mop or lean over to clean, if I ever have hopes of getting better. Again he's offered a maid service, especially since I've gone back to work, but as always I've shunned his suggestions. No, I can't keep up with the housework, but hiring someone else to do it is just a reminder of my failure, so I would rather just deal with an always messy home. We bought this house under time constraints and pressure to relocate, but now I've learned that I'm not the only one unhappy here. I'm glad he opened up to me about it, and we've decided that 2010 is going to be the year where we build up our savings and take our time to find the right home for us, for the lifestyle we want. We do not need this monstrous cave of well over 5,000 square feet. It's just two adults and a few cats, after all. We want something smaller and cozier, with charm and warmth. Not this gigantic big box with its 20 foot ceilings and white walls that radiate nothing but cold. We both hate this place, it's sterile and boring and unfriendly, and we've been here long enough to also hate the little town that we picked out when we moved here. We've found another town, in a neighboring county. Closer to work, older homes, younger and more affluent residents, and an area that would promote a more active and healthy way of life for the both of us. Walking trails winding through all the close knit neighborhoods, everyone getting around on bicycles, several lakes for kayaking. This is what we both want, not to be stuck out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by old pasture land and twenty minutes from the nearest grocery store. 2009 ended on a positive note for me, and it's up to me to make the best of it, for both myself and A. He's a super special man, and I'm so happy he's my husband, but sometimes not even that is enough to sustain me. Although I see a brighter future, I still see this house and this town as a dead end. We didn't know any better when we moved here, we picked this town out from just looking at a map and had one weekend to find a house before the company transferred A over here. We felt our decisions were out of our control at that time, but now we are here and it's time to make the right decision for us, and BY us. We won't be moving any time soon I know, but just having that event out there when I scan my horizon, gives me something new and exciting to focus on. I want to get back to keeping up with this blog, because I do still have issues to work through, and I think if I use this blog the right way it could be beneficial for me

Thirty-Seven

Thank you MsP for your kind words, and I agree with everything you say. I have actually been feeling better, which is one reason I haven't been on here lately. Does that make sense? I have three blogs, and this is my blog where I like to pour out all the bad crap, complain, whine, have a pity party, get angry. I haven't felt those things lately, so I've not wanted to get on here and blog. My life has taken a drastic turn- for the better. How often do you hear people say that? Right now my head is spinning, and I've had problems absorbing it all and wrapping my brain around everything and putting my thoughts into words, but I will write about the events soon. But then I realized that, even though I seem to be feeling better on the outside and smiling more, is that really how I am feeling on the inside? I don't know yet, but very soon- days in fact- it will be put to the test in a way it hasn't been for years now. There are major adjustments coming in the near future for everyone in the house- me, A, the cats even. No, I'm not pregnant, I'm in my mid-40's for cryin' out loud. I am tired of being a big faker, a phony, smiling at everyone in public but having secret dark thoughts about life behind my hazel eyes. I want the two personalities to blend into one, into ME, a new and improved me I guess. I will soon have an opportunity to redeem myself and try to become that better person, that new person. I have never been suicidal, but certainly depressed and tired of my life and my sad moods and blue periods. I am tired of my mood being dependent on the weather, or A, or my hormones, or my weight, or whatever. I am ready to take charge of my moods and feelings, instead of them controlling me. I have been their plaything for far too long now, they've mistreated me terribly, and I am ready to cut my losses and move on to bigger and better things. I have been doing everything lately that I can think of, to try and improve my feelings of sadness and loneliness. I've been taking St. John's Wort (does it really work?), I've been taking something at night to ensure that I get plenty of uninterrupted sleep, I've been exercising more, reading more, getting outside to get more fresh air and sunshine. Perhaps these things have helped, perhaps I am just feeling better and attribute it to these actions. Does it matter? I read Winter Fawn, and I can't say that she reads me, but my heart breaks for her every time I read about her unhappiness- she seems so sweet and beautiful but she also seems so so sad. I realize there are many many many other people out there who feel life more deeply than I do, who feel more troubled, who feel less hopeful. Part of me knows that my feeling better is the result of my physical therapy, because less physical pain equals less mental and emotional anguish. I still go twice a month, and it gets better with every visit. I still have the bad days, where I hurt so much that I can't (don't want to) function much, but those seem to be very rare indeed, instead of ALL the time like before. It's a shame that conventional doctors only wanted to give me more and more and more medication and keep stabbing me with needles, only to have the pain grow over the years, no relief. As soon as I got away from traditional medicine, I found my answer, and of course my health insurance won't cover it because "therapeutic massage" is off the grid as far as they're concerned, even though it's the only thing that has worked. Whatever- what I'm saving now by getting off the SEVEN prescription medications I was taking for the pain- trust me the PT is a lot cheaper even when it's paid for fully out of pocket. I don't discount that my therapist is a big reason about why I'm in better spirits, because who wants to sit around in the comfort of your own home and still feel miserable? I still feel lost and alone on some days, but that will change very soon, and I'm going to try and write about that soon. I am happy that the humid, bright, hot summer is gone in our part of the world now. The cool breezes blow away my anger at humanity, it lightens the heaviness in my heart.

Thirty-Six

I am slowly coming to terms with my life as I know it now. I realize that I can't change anything around me, I can only change my reactions to it. I can't force someone to hire me, I can't force A to work less hours, I can't force a stranger to become friends with me. I am still trying my damnedest to focus on the positive, and ignore the negative. I am trying to stop complaining about what I don't have, and enjoy and embrace what I do have. So I spend up to 14 hours home alone every day- why do I treat that as such a huge burden, such a torture? Why can't I learn to love the peace and quiet, why can't I learn to fill the hours with the hobbies I used to once love but never had time for? In the basement I have stacks of paperback books I've not yet read, I have several boxes of sewing supplies for the quilts I used to make. Upstairs in the studio A made for me, I have all my art supplies- paints, pencils, beads, colored paper, clay, a closet filled with empty canvases. In a spare bedroom I have my treadmill set up, along with a TV and a pile of exercise DVD's. All the things I always wanted more time to spend on and enjoy when I was working full time. Now I have that time, and I rarely do any of it. The hours pass by every day, and I have no idea where they go or what I did. Am I truly that depressed? I have plants sitting on the front porch that need to be potted. I have Halloween decorations half taken out of storage that I need to put around the house. I have a stack of new recipes copied from cookbooks that are simply gathering dust on the kitchen counter. Why can't I do anything? What is stopping me? There is no one else here but me. No one to control my time, no one to tell me what to do or not to do, no one to criticize me, no one to make me feel stupid. Just plain me, an overweight unemployed childless depressed 40-something housewife. Me, and a clock that ticks away my existence, by the minutes, the hours, the days, the weeks. Why am I wasting that time? Why don't I see it as a gift that has been given to me? I have a husband who makes enough money that I can afford to stay home and do whatever it is I want to do. I don't have ANY commitments- no children, no family around. In the months I've been staying at home, I could have created a painting a day, I could have written an entire novel, I could have put away all the old photos into albums, I could have baked every pie known to mankind, I could have spent my time working with a local charity and made a new friend. But I haven't done anything, at all. And I don't know why. I don't know what paralyzes me every day when I breeze through the empty house like a ghost. This house is three stories, yet I rarely leave the main floor. I hover around the living room all day long, ignoring everything else. The cats get around the house more than I do. Some days I don't even turn on the TV, I just sit and stare. Or worse, I sleep the hours away. Most of all, what I feel is shame. Shame because I am wasting this time, shame because I can barely function and I don't know why, or how to change it. Shame because I have to lie to A at night, when he asks me how my day was and I say oh, just fine honey, I had a great day. I think he knows it's bullshit, but he pretends to believe me because he doesn't know what else to say, what else to do. There are a lot of women on my block who stay home all day, I see their cars at home, see them in their yards sometimes, but they all have children. I wonder what they do all day long, alone in their own homes. Are they as bored as I am? Are they watching the clock tick, counting the minutes until someone else will be there with them? Are they just sitting in front of the TV watching Bravo all day long? Most of the houses on my street have a stay-at-home mom. I can't even apply that label to myself. What am I? I hate saying I'm unemployed, because I voluntarily gave up my career to support A with his. In the beginning I used to say I was at home full time working on my art, but that is a crock of shit, as I've only completed two paintings in all this time. So who am I? What am I? What am I going to do with myself as time goes on? I keep applying for jobs, but me and another 100 people apply for each one. What will I do with myself if I continue to be a "stay-at-home" person? I am lost, but I am trying to find my way. I am trying to focus on something, anything, other than being alone. I am alone, but I am surrounded by wonderful opportunities that others would love to have. I just can't seem to get my head around it. Why is it so hard to be alone? Am I making it harder than it has to be? Am I just ungrateful, and whiny? A tells me all the time that I'm spoiled, a princess, but he says it with love because he is the one who spoils me and he does so happily. If I am unhappy, it's my fault, it's in my head, and it's something that only I can fix. But how? Where do I begin? It's been nine months now, of staying home alone, in a new city, a new state. This is my life now. I have to deal with it. Soon. It seems like such a simple thing. I'm not setting out to find the cure for cancer, no one is putting pressure on me. I'm only trying to rouse myself out of this black hole, and paint a landscape of a beach, or read a good novel, or bake a pumpkin pie. How hard is that? And why can't I do it?

Thirty-Five

Yesterday I was home alone while A spent the whole day in the city with his best friend, who came to stay with us for the weekend. I found a marathon of episodes on a show about people who won lotteries, and how it had changed their lives, and I watched all afternoon. This wasn't one of those lurid tales about how fortunes had ruined lives. It was just an interesting look at how the winners were spending their millions. One of the couples on an episode actually live IN this tiny-ass country town I live in now, where they won $2.5 million on a scratch-off ticket. The episodes were current, filmed in 2009, about people who had been recent winners and therefore hadn't had time yet to squander their fortunes and spiral into debt and misery again. I've only lived in three states over my lifetime, and all three states have had the lottery. One state had their own lottery, started when I was in my 20's. The next state was part of the Powerball system. The state we moved to this year does the Mega Millions- we had a recent winner two weeks ago from this shithole town, I think he won $12 million. I don't play the lottery. I don't ever carry cash, I rarely go to convenience stores, and I just don't feel lucky. A plays every once in awhile, he wins a few dollars here and there, but nothing to break into a sweat about. On one of the episodes yesterday, a guy had written down a list "if I ever win the lottery" for how he wanted to spend his money. Sure enough, he did win. I kept watching the shows, seeing how different people chose to spend the money. Most of the people on the show spent it on the obvious- cars and homes. It made me think about how I would spend such a large sum of money. Yes, A and I have had "that" conversation before, just for fun and just out of curiosity to see what the other one was thinking about. A first and foremost said all of our immediate family members would get a gift of cash from us. Parents, siblings, nieces and nephews. Or, pay off their mortgages and cars, set our six nieces and nephews up with money for college. It doesn't surprise me that A would think this way, he is deeply devoted to family and his heritage and roots. I would love to give money away to all the family as well, but then where do you draw the line? Aunts and uncles, cousins, in-laws' family members. And what about friends- best friend, college buddy, co-worker, acquaintances. You can't give it away to everyone and everybody, there would be nothing left for you. I know, how much money does one person really need? Could I ever really spend tens of millions of dollars? I have never desired the rock star lifestyle, or the royal treatment. I don't covet my neighbors' BMW or Mercedes, I have never wished to join the country club right up the road, I'm too fat to fit chic designer clothes. So, after showering the family with generosity, then what? We do have several charities that we currently support, all of them are either for abused animals or sick children. We give what we can, which isn't nearly enough. I would love to be able to help out the local animal shelters even more- I could see myself easily spending way too much money to help out animals in need, a situation my heart truly bleeds for. After that, I'm not sure. I would certainly pay off all our debt- the house, our few bills, prepay all the utilities for about a year. Next would be travel- I've always had a dream of buying a big tricked out RV and traveling across the country for months at a time, no plans, going wherever we felt like driving for the day. I've seen RV's that are little mini houses on wheels- they have laundry rooms, flat screen TV's with satellite, full-size kitchens. That would be the way to go. All our pets could go with us- travel by any other means would require leaving the animals at home, and neither of us would want to be away from them for that long. A has always said if he was independently wealthy, he would play poker for a living in Vegas, he feels that is his true calling. I've been to Vegas several times, and it's okay to visit, but I'm not sure I would want to live there forever. Maybe out in the suburbs, but that is A's dream, not mine. After all the travel across the country, it would be time to come home and decide where we want to live. I don't see us wanting to stay in this current area, we are only here because A's job brought us here, and we're just waiting out his next promotion so we can move again in another few years. So, if we had millions and didn't have to work? Where to "retire" to? A grew up on a working farm in the Smoky Mountains. I grew up on the Gulf Coast, a beach baby. Each of us escaped our lives as soon as possible. And although neither of us wants to return to where we came from, we each want to end up where the other one started. My dream is to have a cozy cabin in the mountains, enjoy the change of seasons from my front porch, have a yard filled with flowers and animals. A's dream is to live in paradise, where he can play golf every day and never fight the cold weather, walk on the beach in the mornings, and dine on fresh seafood and tropical fruits every night. We've always joked that we will have to retire in two places- a mountain cabin during the summer, and a beach condo in the winter, but of course we can't afford that. After that, I don't really know what I would spend money on. With me, probably just what I spend it on now- stuff to read, art supplies to play with, music to listen to. I don't want a private jet or yacht, or a butler, or a penthouse in the city, or a big mansion I could get lost in. A comes from a very humble background and I don't think he would be interested in any of that, either. I see that sort of thing on TV, and it doesn't appeal to me at all, I am not envious of Paris Hilton or Donald Trump in any way whatsoever. I mean, how much stuff can one person really want or need or use? Everyone wants a comfortable home, but do I need 16 bedrooms and 20 bathrooms in one house?? Do I need gold fixtures for the bathtub? Do I need a separate closet just for all my shoes? You can only wear one pair at a time after all. You can only drive one car at a time. If I had a bottomless pit of money, I think for me it would be more about what I could "do" with it, instead of what I could "own" with it. It would be about freeing A up from his 60 hour a week job, so we could spend time together, before all our time on this earth is gone. Where could we go, what could we see, how could we come together and enjoy life with each other? I'm sure every person who hits the big jackpot on the lottery doesn't think they will ever be the winner, and yet they continue to play. Me, I don't play, so I don't ever have to worry about winning or not. But maybe I should buy a ticket now and then?? My dream, every day and every night, is more time to spend with A, but as long as he has his job that is never going to happen. Winning the lottery may not buy me happiness, but it could buy me more free time to be with the man I love. And THAT would make me happy.

Thirty-Four

In an earlier post, I wrote about having an affair when I was married to X, an affair with a department manager at work who also happened to be a handsome younger man, one who was very attracted to me and I to him. The affair was the catalyst that I needed to finally give me the strength to leave X, to demand a divorce that was long overdue. Mentally and emotionally, I was no longer "married" to X, we had no type of relationship together, I hated even the thought of him. But physically we were still in the same house, though in separate beds. And legally we were still husband and wife. The affair that started at my office opened up my eyes, and made me realize that I was still a young, attractive woman and I had a future, a chance at a new life of my own making. I had been with X for so long, that I couldn't see beyond a miserable existence with him. I didn't yet realize that I could stand on my own two feet, live alone, support myself, and be happy once again. The first time I "cheated" on X, the first time I went to this other man's bed, I did not feel guilty. I felt elated. Not because of the sex itself, but because I felt free and uplifted and relieved. It was an act to break the bonds between X and I. I couldn't take it back, and I didn't want to. And I really did love this other man, even though he made no promises or commitments to me, because I was still married. And even after I told X I wanted a divorce, X continued to take it lightly, and refused to move out, thinking I was just being a silly cow and mad at him about something and blowing off steam, that it would pass. He didn't leave for four months, until I retained a lawyer, and then he knew finally that I was serious. During that time, I continued to see the other man, on weekends during the days because I would have to come home at night since X was still living there in the beginning. I could never let on to X about it, because we had to wait out a tremendously long year of separation before we could actually file for divorce. I wanted things to go as smoothly as possible. I could have easily brought X up on drug charges, to expedite the process and get a divorce immediately. But I was now living alone, my family 700 miles away, and X was just across town, bitter, in a small apartment, and angry at me. I wanted to keep the peace, I was living alone now for the very first time in my life. I was learning to enjoy it. I loved my job, I got a new pet, my parents had recently bought me a more reliable car, our bankruptcy was finally paid off, and I finally finally felt like a real adult, an independent woman for the first time ever. I learned quickly that I didn't need X- I could mow the lawn myself, could pay my bills, could take my car in and get the oil changed- and more than that, I liked living on my own, coming home to "my" house, with peace and quiet and no drama or fighting. My new man and I continued to date, keeping it hush hush at work. He lived 45 miles away, in another state, and commuted to work. Once X was out of my house, I would drive to my new love's house and spend whole weekends, days and nights, but always worried about X cruising by my house, wondering where I was so late at night. He had no right to know my business, but I was very afraid of him anyhow, of his possible reaction to me being gone all night long, of him challenging me. He still had keys to the house, and I hadn't changed the locks, like a fool. In the privacy of my own home I kept a journal about how much I hated X and how much I loved the new man. I hid it, even though I was living alone by now. But while I was out one day, X came into the house, rifling through my things, and found my journal. He took it, without me ever knowing it, and made copies of it, replacing it without me being the wiser. X did research, using my own written thoughts and feelings against me, figuring out who the new man at work was, running background checks on him, driving by his house, driving by our work to see if our cars were there. Finally, after many months, he confronted me with it and started demanding money from me! He said I was the one who wanted the divorce, not him, and if I wanted him to cooperate and go through with it, he wanted $20,000 from me! He knew I didn't have a pot to piss in, but he knew my parents had money and demanded that I get it from them, or my new lover, he didn't care where I got it. He said if I didn't, he would make trouble for me, wouldn't go through with the divorce and would drag it out as long as possible, he would bring me up on charges of adultery and demand the judge make me give him the house, my things, my money. I tried to threaten him back, telling him I would call the cops on him about his drugs, but he laughed in my face and said go ahead. He said he would break into my house, come after me, he would burn the house down around me while I slept and there was nothing I could do about it. He could kill me before the cops could even get there. I started sleeping with a large kitchen knife on my nightstand. At this point in time, the divorce was only 3-4 months away, and I backed off, telling X whatever he wanted to hear, making him whatever promises that he wanted, just so I could get the divorce. In the back of my mind, I knew how truly lazy X was, and how unlikely it was that he would go through with any of his threats. But I also knew how angry he was, and how his temper was and how out of control he could get sometimes. I couldn't take the chance. In all the time X and I were separated, the new man never came to my house because legally I was still married and we felt it was unwise to have him be there just in case X wanted to get crazy. My dad was so angry, he offered X an immediate lump sum of five grand to get out of my life and leave me alone. X refused, saying he wanted all of the $20,000 in payments of $500 a month for the next few years. I sent him one check, then a second one, and now the divorce was finally drawing near. I pawned my wedding rings from X before I even divorced him, there was no going back, no way no how. I used the money to take a long vacation with my new boyfriend. As the divorce date came closer, X now started to call me up crying, begging me to take him back. He sent me flowers at work, sent me long passionate love letters which made me gag to read them. He promised we'd finally go to the couples therapy I had unsuccessfully begged him to go to for years. When he saw that approach wasn't working, he quickly went back to his threats of violence against me. And in the meantime, the new man moved out of his house and into an apartment in another city, closer to me. When X did his "background" check, he got the old address for my friend, not the new one. My friend now lived in a gated community, with high security, and we felt relatively safe together on the weekends. I was still, of course, living alone in my old house during the week though. Finally it was time for the divorce, and it came and went without a hitch. X did not cause any trouble, and driving away from the courthouse parking lot that day, it was the very last time I laid eyes on X. But, he wasn't out of my life completely, as he started to make threatening phone calls to me, harassing me, saying that if he ever caught me and my boyfriend out together, he would kick both our asses, he would kill us. Other times he would call to brag to me about his new girlfriend, how great the sex was, how wonderful she was- was he trying to make me jealous?? I told him I was happy for him, that I didn't care anymore, just please leave me alone. I never paid him another dime, and he was filled with black hate that I was "going back" on my "word" about giving him money- I told him what did he expect, he had blackmailed me and fuck him, he wasn't getting another cent from me, I didn't owe him anything. My parents had made the down payment on the house, I had paid all the bills while he was unemployed, I had paid for his health insurance for many years including the year of our separation, and all our bankruptcy payments for five 1/2 years had always come out of my paycheck- to pay off his debt from a failed business venture. I owed him NOTHING! I changed my phone number and got it unlisted, and I never saw or talked to X ever again. He never once tried to contact me after that, and moved to another town nearby. That was many years ago, but I still feel my blood boil just writing about it, thinking about the situation. In the end, it didn't surprise me how X behaved, because he had been such a dick for the 13 years we were married. Why did I expect him to get through the divorce with any dignity and decency? He could never see the wrong that he did to me over the years, the terrible way he had treated me, he could only focus on the fact that I ended up cheating on him. More than anything, he told me, he was upset that I had "disrupted" his life as he knew it. He never once apologized for all the years he abused me emotionally and mentally, the times he came charging at me with his fists raised only to punch a hole in the wall beside my head, all the times he screamed at me what a stupid lazy bitch I was, all the times he got angry with something simple and would pick up furniture and bust it up- all to intimidate me and make me cower and make me obey him. He never saw that his behavior was unacceptable, that it had hurt me, that I had truly tried my hardest for years to make it work between us, that it had in reality, finally driven me away to find someone else, find another life without him or his fucked up ways. But I never once regretted my decision to get out of the marriage with X, even though the whole time we were dating the new man never ever once made me a promise about having a future with him. I was okay with that, I didn't ask for or expect a commitment, at the moment I only wanted to break away from X and once that was accomplished, I would worry about the future. MY future, one of my own making, one without X there to hover over me and terrorize me. And yes, that "new man" was A, the beautiful and loving and caring human being I am married to today. I think it all worked out for the best.