I finished the book. Which one you ask? Oh... sorry... The Time Traveler's Wife. I cried.
So much waiting and sacrifice. So much patience and love. It's impossible to know, to decide, to reconcile whether or not it's worth it in the end. I mean, it was what it was and there was beauty in it - so much beauty... and knowing, gee, knowing that love exists there. There is something to that - to giving and receiving - I wonder what kind of exhilaration that must be. You may call me a liar if you wish, but I know I've not had that. I've seen a glimpse of it - a promise of what it could be, might be, but to say I've actually experienced it - nah, I can't.
Sacrifice - that's all life is. I can be happy within the context of the place in which I live... but is it really all that I want? No. I have no choice but to be where I am, even if it sometimes feels like it's slowly killing me. There are things I can not change, things I have no control over, circumstances which dictate where I am and what I do. That is my sacrifice. I must always, always remember what the sacrifice is for and be mindful of what would happen otherwise.
Melodramatic I know... but still the truth - and I'm slowly realizing it, coming to terms with it, comprehending the scope of what it all means. This song sorta reminds me of the waiting. There is an awareness I guess I've come to... and now that I'm here I don't have the faintest idea of what to do with it. I think, on some level in my conscience mind, I thought I would one day understand it all - oh not the mysteries of life, or the Lost City of Atlantis - but understand me and my role and my place - and it would all make sense - but it's not going to, is it? And I never will, will I? The awareness is there is no awareness. The answer is there is no answer.
For heaven's sake Belle... give it a rest. Maybe South of Broad won't make me think so hard....
9.30.2009
9.28.2009
Hollow
It's not a peppy day so if you're looking for sunshine and roses you won't find them here. No reasons really, it is just what it is... and I don't feel great and I want the day to be over. Why? For all the reasons I've written about before - this is what happens when they rear their ugly heads, this is how I feel when I can't fight them off... this is how it is when I'm tired. The five hundred pound circus freak invades and I sometimes think it's worse the better I get, if that makes sense. Let me explain: I do so well getting from day to day - I've come so far - and I think because, for the most part, I'm in the moment and busy and productive - happy - that when the freak visits she really visits and she takes advantage of any crack she can find and she exploits it for her own gain. She feeds off it and expands her girth with every little doubt and misstep I make. When she sits around, she really sits around - babumbump... oh, and she's pms-ing - what the hell?
I read a lot in college - a lot. I took quite a few English classes because I was majoring in English when I first went to school - that all changed later when I ended up taking a ton of poli sci classes and now... well... that's another story - but for this entry it's helpful to know I took a lot of English classes... and so yes, I read a lot - and I remember reading TS Eliot and I very vaguely remember reading The Hollow Men, but I certainly remember these lines:
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper
Who doesn't know these lines? I thought about it today as I was driving and I realized most things, if not all things - relationships I suppose - end with whimpers and not bangs. Bangs are never the end - there is too much emotion there, it's the whimper that's most deadly, most dangerous... it's a slow seep or a silent leak... and one day you wake up and it's all gone. Bangs draw attention. Whimpers simply slink out the door.
It takes a lot to hang on to an emotion, an idea, a feeling. When you finally get too tired or start to feel too pathetic, that's when you just, without a word, loosen your hands and let go. No words are necessary then... I mean why would they be? The bang has long passed by then, nothing left to clamor over. Is that a recognition of futility? Is that the sound futility makes? Regardless, it's the sound the circus freak makes - I wish she'd just go away for good. Not so sure that's ever going to happen....
I read a lot in college - a lot. I took quite a few English classes because I was majoring in English when I first went to school - that all changed later when I ended up taking a ton of poli sci classes and now... well... that's another story - but for this entry it's helpful to know I took a lot of English classes... and so yes, I read a lot - and I remember reading TS Eliot and I very vaguely remember reading The Hollow Men, but I certainly remember these lines:
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper
Who doesn't know these lines? I thought about it today as I was driving and I realized most things, if not all things - relationships I suppose - end with whimpers and not bangs. Bangs are never the end - there is too much emotion there, it's the whimper that's most deadly, most dangerous... it's a slow seep or a silent leak... and one day you wake up and it's all gone. Bangs draw attention. Whimpers simply slink out the door.
It takes a lot to hang on to an emotion, an idea, a feeling. When you finally get too tired or start to feel too pathetic, that's when you just, without a word, loosen your hands and let go. No words are necessary then... I mean why would they be? The bang has long passed by then, nothing left to clamor over. Is that a recognition of futility? Is that the sound futility makes? Regardless, it's the sound the circus freak makes - I wish she'd just go away for good. Not so sure that's ever going to happen....
9.27.2009
Idle Chatter
Nothing to report on the date yet, stay tuned... lol!
Ahhh ok... it's Sunday night and I'm contemplating the meaning of life - again... no not really - yeah well maybe. I'm sitting here wishing I had something really sweet to eat and something really profound to say. I once told someone I wanted to blog - I had been mulling the idea over and over in my head... sort of afraid to do it - not really sure I had much to say, but knowing there was something inside me I wanted to say... and I think he asked me why, and really just questioned me in an effort to get me to understand what it was I wanted, and I told him I wanted to write profound things beautifully - or something to that effect - funny huh? But it's true - I want to write beautifully expressive things. I want to pour out the contents of my mind and heart and I want someone to read it and get it. I sometimes think that's asking a bit much - I mean gee... can we know someone without the benefit of lots of intense face to face interaction? Call me crazy, but I think we can.
Sports South is replaying the Carolina/Ole Miss game. College football is huge in the South... I'm sure it's a big deal other places too, I won't be so bold as to say the South has a corner on the market where college football obsession is concerned, but it is a big deal here - HUUUGE. In South Carolina you are in one of two camps where college ball is concerned - you are either a Clemson fan, or a Carolina fan. This house, well - as for me and mine we follow the Carolina Gamecocks. It's not always an easy thing to do - especially living in the Upstate (which seems saturated with Tiger fans). But I loved my years at the University of South Carolina and I am happy to call myself a Gamecock.
Being a Gamecock is not for the faint of heart, it requires a lot of loyalty and faith - we don't always have the most productive seasons or the most consistent luck. There is a tenacity to it, an inability to give up even when you think you should... even when everything you see tells you you should. But it's not that simple, and it gets into your blood and feeds a belief that eventually, one day, success will come. Every year is another opportunity - every year holds the possiblity that this year will be the year... and of course there are disappointments, always disappointments - but when it's good - wow, it's good... and that momentary elation and pride sustains through the bad, but always - always - good or bad - we are Carolina fans!
Funny how my life sorta mirrors that eh? I am tenacious and loyal - and I will fight to the death for mine... I don't give up easily, if ever at all - and I carry my faith with me where ever I go. It makes total sense I'd be a Carolina Girl... soooooo.. GO COCKS!
Oh, and yeah... I purchased a new pair of shoes today... I will take a pic soon and post it - after all, what's this little ball without a kickin' pair of shoes?
Ahhh ok... it's Sunday night and I'm contemplating the meaning of life - again... no not really - yeah well maybe. I'm sitting here wishing I had something really sweet to eat and something really profound to say. I once told someone I wanted to blog - I had been mulling the idea over and over in my head... sort of afraid to do it - not really sure I had much to say, but knowing there was something inside me I wanted to say... and I think he asked me why, and really just questioned me in an effort to get me to understand what it was I wanted, and I told him I wanted to write profound things beautifully - or something to that effect - funny huh? But it's true - I want to write beautifully expressive things. I want to pour out the contents of my mind and heart and I want someone to read it and get it. I sometimes think that's asking a bit much - I mean gee... can we know someone without the benefit of lots of intense face to face interaction? Call me crazy, but I think we can.
Sports South is replaying the Carolina/Ole Miss game. College football is huge in the South... I'm sure it's a big deal other places too, I won't be so bold as to say the South has a corner on the market where college football obsession is concerned, but it is a big deal here - HUUUGE. In South Carolina you are in one of two camps where college ball is concerned - you are either a Clemson fan, or a Carolina fan. This house, well - as for me and mine we follow the Carolina Gamecocks. It's not always an easy thing to do - especially living in the Upstate (which seems saturated with Tiger fans). But I loved my years at the University of South Carolina and I am happy to call myself a Gamecock.
Being a Gamecock is not for the faint of heart, it requires a lot of loyalty and faith - we don't always have the most productive seasons or the most consistent luck. There is a tenacity to it, an inability to give up even when you think you should... even when everything you see tells you you should. But it's not that simple, and it gets into your blood and feeds a belief that eventually, one day, success will come. Every year is another opportunity - every year holds the possiblity that this year will be the year... and of course there are disappointments, always disappointments - but when it's good - wow, it's good... and that momentary elation and pride sustains through the bad, but always - always - good or bad - we are Carolina fans!
Funny how my life sorta mirrors that eh? I am tenacious and loyal - and I will fight to the death for mine... I don't give up easily, if ever at all - and I carry my faith with me where ever I go. It makes total sense I'd be a Carolina Girl... soooooo.. GO COCKS!
Oh, and yeah... I purchased a new pair of shoes today... I will take a pic soon and post it - after all, what's this little ball without a kickin' pair of shoes?
9.19.2009
How I Spent My Friday Night
I once wrote about how a an acquaintance of mine told me her theory on divorce. She had gone through one, I guess a few years before mine, and she felt like everyone who goes through a divorce has two years to be crazy afterwards... you can read the entry here. Well folks, I'm coming up on two years... 11/9/09 will be that anniversary and my two years will be up. I think, with the new job, and all that I'd been doing/dealing with, the whole crazy idea had softly fallen by the wayside. I mean, gee... I had managed to really get a grip on stuff - I had no time for crazy and I had, well, entered the realm of relative sanity, that is, until last night.
I work for a state agency, really though I work for the governor's office (yeah I know) - and each county has an office to run that agency, to address the specific needs of that county... and because this work is what it is, all counties are able to form nonprofit boards if they so choose. The board doesn't really govern the agency, it just provides funds for projects that fall outside of agency scope. Well a neighboring county, one that is part of the circuit I work in, has a nonprofit board (we are in the process of forming one in my county) and they had a big fundraiser/auction last night. It was downtown, held in a lovely little art gallery - an opportunity to dress up, eat a few little hor'dourves, drink a glass of wine, test out my communication skills. I took a friend of mine with me, a divorced compatriot.
I had no intentions of bidding on anything at this auction, really. I had looked at the website and so I knew what was being offered, but I had no interest... I was basically going to show some support for the program. They had a cash bar, so I had a glass of merlot. I ran into a girl who used to teach at the dance studio the first few years daughter took dance. This girl, this recently married woman, is the most absolulety beautiful girl ever - she looks like a Roman goddess, absolutley flawless. It was such a pleasant surprise to see her, and we chatted about her dance studio, her wedding, my daughter. We had another glass of wine. And then the live auction began.
I guess it might be a good idea to tell you what was being auctioned... I mean, it's not that big of a deal really... but the truth is, it was a bachelor auction. There were 20 men, single guys who generously offered themselves to raise money for kids - 20 single guys with different date packages. Most of the guys were in their 20's... cute fellas with lots of personality - but there were a few older guys... a law enforcement officer, a couple of lawyers, an engineer... and so, as I said, I had no intention whatsoever in participating in the least... until that second glass of wine. And I'm standing there with the Roman goddess and one of the lawyers comes out, she's encouraging me to bid, and for some reason I lift my paddle and when all is said and done I had bought a date - what the hell was I thinking?
It's funny - really. I have no idea what I did, why I did it... it was a complete break from reality... my last hoorah of crazy. Oh hell, least it's an opportunity to dress up, go to dinner, see a play, talk to an adult... we'll see how it goes... he may just run before the date ever happens anyway. I'll let ya know... :-)
I work for a state agency, really though I work for the governor's office (yeah I know) - and each county has an office to run that agency, to address the specific needs of that county... and because this work is what it is, all counties are able to form nonprofit boards if they so choose. The board doesn't really govern the agency, it just provides funds for projects that fall outside of agency scope. Well a neighboring county, one that is part of the circuit I work in, has a nonprofit board (we are in the process of forming one in my county) and they had a big fundraiser/auction last night. It was downtown, held in a lovely little art gallery - an opportunity to dress up, eat a few little hor'dourves, drink a glass of wine, test out my communication skills. I took a friend of mine with me, a divorced compatriot.
I had no intentions of bidding on anything at this auction, really. I had looked at the website and so I knew what was being offered, but I had no interest... I was basically going to show some support for the program. They had a cash bar, so I had a glass of merlot. I ran into a girl who used to teach at the dance studio the first few years daughter took dance. This girl, this recently married woman, is the most absolulety beautiful girl ever - she looks like a Roman goddess, absolutley flawless. It was such a pleasant surprise to see her, and we chatted about her dance studio, her wedding, my daughter. We had another glass of wine. And then the live auction began.
I guess it might be a good idea to tell you what was being auctioned... I mean, it's not that big of a deal really... but the truth is, it was a bachelor auction. There were 20 men, single guys who generously offered themselves to raise money for kids - 20 single guys with different date packages. Most of the guys were in their 20's... cute fellas with lots of personality - but there were a few older guys... a law enforcement officer, a couple of lawyers, an engineer... and so, as I said, I had no intention whatsoever in participating in the least... until that second glass of wine. And I'm standing there with the Roman goddess and one of the lawyers comes out, she's encouraging me to bid, and for some reason I lift my paddle and when all is said and done I had bought a date - what the hell was I thinking?
It's funny - really. I have no idea what I did, why I did it... it was a complete break from reality... my last hoorah of crazy. Oh hell, least it's an opportunity to dress up, go to dinner, see a play, talk to an adult... we'll see how it goes... he may just run before the date ever happens anyway. I'll let ya know... :-)
9.18.2009
Everywhere I Turn
It is happening to me all the time these days, I can't escape it - and I'm gonna post this song's link... and it won't mean anything to anyone but me, but it's just one more of those moments I've been having lately - seriously, gee...
Black and Gold
Black and Gold
9.16.2009
Is It Just All Happenstance?
Belle has been feelin' ever so slightly blue lately - I'm not entirely sure why. Well, that's not true, I do know why, just not sure telling anyone here really would be a productive exercise. So what do I do instead? I buy shoes! Shoes that will click clack on the linoleum floor. Oh, and a really long string of fake pearls...Ok... long song - Whole of the Moon
I bought a few other things as well... maybe I'm into retail therapy? Who knows? I got yet another black skirt to wear to court and a few fall sweaters, even though it's not quite fall-ish around here yet. The courtroom does stay cold though so maybe it's not too premature.
Monday afternoon, while waiting at dance, my friend Tina (her daughter dances with my daughter) said, "Go with me to the cemetery." So I did - she was looking for names and dates of relatives... we found a few of them and as we looked we walked and as we walked we talked, as she and I are prone to do. She's an interesting person... her chosen profession is hair and she's very talented. So we were talking and I asked her if she thought things happened for reasons... she said yes, she did - she said she doesn't think anything is an accident - it all has a purpose and a reason. And it's not that I don't agree with her - if you read this blog much you know that I tend to believe that too... things happen, people happen, for reasons, so I'm not being a disingenuous hypocrite when I asked - but sometimes it's not always easy to understand the reasoning - and sometimes, perhaps, we never do.
I'm reading The Time Traveler's Wife and it's interesting - I think I made a mistake seeing the movie first - but hey, what's done is done. The novel contains several different themes I suppose - one of which is waiting. Clare waits... and waits... and waits, and in between the waiting is wonderful... until it's time to wait again - and here she meets Henry when she's six... and he's a grown man, and he knows she's the one he will marry - and she, at some point, knows he's who she's going to marry - but yet she has to wait - she has to endure stretches of time where he's not with her, not part of her everyday physical life... but yet he's always there, part of her... and I think about that sometimes. I think about that and wonder... so much of my life is waiting, has been waiting, and to a large part still is. I'm not where I want to be, I'm not where, God willing, I will be, but for now this is what it is and I have to make the most of it - and I am, whether anyone believes me or not. Of course I have those good days and I have those bad days but still... always, something is missing. And really, maybe it's ridiculous... so ridiculous... but I'm coming to accept that's just the way it is, and instead of being angry or frustrated, I'm resigned maybe? There is a definite shift in thinking, feeling, knowing... maybe it's the therapy? Maybe not. I just don't see the point in ignoring it, pretending it isn't so. I've tried that, it doesn't work. I am missing something - that's the God's honest truth - I am. The fact I feel that way doesn't diminish who I am, or what I do, or how I live my life... it's just a fact, and I'm tried of telling myself it doesn't matter - it does.
The long song up above was popular when I was, what, in college? Yeah, I think college. It's a tad bit sappy - ok, fine, a lot sappy - but I've always liked it. Anyone wanna tell me why? I'm serious... I'm really not sure. It just struck me, thinking about what the therapist and I talked about, I feel like I often see the whole of the moon - I always did. But the song isn't necessarily about seeing all the reality, it's about seeing the possibility... and hey, if I can see the possibility, then that's not a negative thing... maybe I'm not a negative person after all, maybe he was wrong... gee I'm in a much too deep frame of mind at the moment. Someone smack me.
So from that to this: Someday. Waiting, sigh.
9.12.2009
Chicken or Egg
The question of the week was, "Did I make him sick?"
I wrote last week about therapy after the fact, and how valuable I'm finding it... and I spoke to the therapist this week about it, about whether she thought it was a smart thing to do... and she agreed - she had a good point, she said something to the effect that it took me this long to stop reacting to it all and start examining it for what it was... what I'm doing now, she said, is a very smart thing to be doing (and yes, I know I'm paying her... ).
So this week, I walked in with lunch and as I was setting it down I asked the question - and she laughed (she has this great laugh), and she said that the therapist answer would be "of course not" but that she understood where it was coming from... she asked me how long I'd been chewing on that one and I guess the truth is I've been chewing on it for almost ever....
I've written before about how I became this really unhappy, dissatisfied, lonely person... and that made me into someone who I would describe as negative - that makes me cringe to think of myself that way - but I was, and I'm not proud to say that... I don't mean to say that I was rude, or unkind in anyway to anyone, but I know there was an inherent sadness to me and that colored how I reacted to each and everything in my life. I didn't realize to what extent it did until I didn't feel it anymore - until I had to do things and they were no longer chores - I felt lighter, and at times giddy - and people I would run into while I was out and about would comment and say how great I looked and smile and ask me what was new to make me seem so content and satisfied.
One of my ex's big complaints about me was my negativity (to go along with all the other complaints) and I've wondered for a long time now whether his assertion had merit or not - I mean, I didn't remember always being negative and I am more than willing to admit that I did become negative - but as I asked the therapist, was it a chicken or egg thing - was my negativity a result of his illness or did my negativity make him ill... and she said something about me taking on responsibility for all the ills of the world and we laughed. But she got it, and that's been the great thing about seeing her, this woman who's been part of the equation from the beginning, is that there is nothing to really explain to her. It's then that she pointed out how I'm capable of looking at all sides of an issue, how I'll look into the future, formulate a plan - and how the ex saw that as negative - say he wanted to buy a boat (which he talked about doing a lot) and I say, well, let's talk about it - and he sees that as negative... I wasn't saying yes or no - I was trying to figure out how he planned on paying for it and whether or not is was something we could afford - she said that's not being negative that's being a realist... and for someone like him, someone with huge addiction problems and no impulse control, of course that was negative to him.... and so it helped put that into perspective for me.
I am a realist - and it doesn't have to be a dirty word, an undesirable thing to be. My job has illustrated this all for me so well, so clearly, and I guess it's what 's brought this question to the forefront of my mind. I interact with people all day long, I talk to them, I help them, I listen - and while I have to be honest and realistic with them, I'm not negative or unkind - and I encounter people who are - and it's shown me, once again, I'm not what I was painted as being - he made me into the bad guy, he had to... his reality wouldn't have been palatable any other way.
We talked about a few other things - friends, relationships - men. She says I need to blow this little popsicle stand of a town I live in but that's not going to happen right now, I'm not going to move my daughter at the moment - not just so I can get laid... I realize me, being who I am, makes it harder to find a man here... but I'm just having faith in the Lord that whatever direction I need to take will reveal itself to me all in due time... but I'm not going to force it in an attempt to be selfish and satisfy any of the baser more animalistic needs I may have - but I'm being silly actually because what I truly want is a whole, well rounded relationship - mind, spirit, body :-) "Boning for sport" (to quote a certain someone), is not in my vernacular.
*and as an addendum: the therapist also suggested weeks ago I start taking a multi vitamin and fish oil and I participate in some kind of regular exercise - I've started the vitamin and the fish oil and am taking it everyday - I'm working on the exercise, it's still a sporadic activity, so my goal is finding a way to make it a more regular occurrence - I'll let y'all know how it goes.
I wrote last week about therapy after the fact, and how valuable I'm finding it... and I spoke to the therapist this week about it, about whether she thought it was a smart thing to do... and she agreed - she had a good point, she said something to the effect that it took me this long to stop reacting to it all and start examining it for what it was... what I'm doing now, she said, is a very smart thing to be doing (and yes, I know I'm paying her... ).
So this week, I walked in with lunch and as I was setting it down I asked the question - and she laughed (she has this great laugh), and she said that the therapist answer would be "of course not" but that she understood where it was coming from... she asked me how long I'd been chewing on that one and I guess the truth is I've been chewing on it for almost ever....
I've written before about how I became this really unhappy, dissatisfied, lonely person... and that made me into someone who I would describe as negative - that makes me cringe to think of myself that way - but I was, and I'm not proud to say that... I don't mean to say that I was rude, or unkind in anyway to anyone, but I know there was an inherent sadness to me and that colored how I reacted to each and everything in my life. I didn't realize to what extent it did until I didn't feel it anymore - until I had to do things and they were no longer chores - I felt lighter, and at times giddy - and people I would run into while I was out and about would comment and say how great I looked and smile and ask me what was new to make me seem so content and satisfied.
One of my ex's big complaints about me was my negativity (to go along with all the other complaints) and I've wondered for a long time now whether his assertion had merit or not - I mean, I didn't remember always being negative and I am more than willing to admit that I did become negative - but as I asked the therapist, was it a chicken or egg thing - was my negativity a result of his illness or did my negativity make him ill... and she said something about me taking on responsibility for all the ills of the world and we laughed. But she got it, and that's been the great thing about seeing her, this woman who's been part of the equation from the beginning, is that there is nothing to really explain to her. It's then that she pointed out how I'm capable of looking at all sides of an issue, how I'll look into the future, formulate a plan - and how the ex saw that as negative - say he wanted to buy a boat (which he talked about doing a lot) and I say, well, let's talk about it - and he sees that as negative... I wasn't saying yes or no - I was trying to figure out how he planned on paying for it and whether or not is was something we could afford - she said that's not being negative that's being a realist... and for someone like him, someone with huge addiction problems and no impulse control, of course that was negative to him.... and so it helped put that into perspective for me.
I am a realist - and it doesn't have to be a dirty word, an undesirable thing to be. My job has illustrated this all for me so well, so clearly, and I guess it's what 's brought this question to the forefront of my mind. I interact with people all day long, I talk to them, I help them, I listen - and while I have to be honest and realistic with them, I'm not negative or unkind - and I encounter people who are - and it's shown me, once again, I'm not what I was painted as being - he made me into the bad guy, he had to... his reality wouldn't have been palatable any other way.
We talked about a few other things - friends, relationships - men. She says I need to blow this little popsicle stand of a town I live in but that's not going to happen right now, I'm not going to move my daughter at the moment - not just so I can get laid... I realize me, being who I am, makes it harder to find a man here... but I'm just having faith in the Lord that whatever direction I need to take will reveal itself to me all in due time... but I'm not going to force it in an attempt to be selfish and satisfy any of the baser more animalistic needs I may have - but I'm being silly actually because what I truly want is a whole, well rounded relationship - mind, spirit, body :-) "Boning for sport" (to quote a certain someone), is not in my vernacular.
*and as an addendum: the therapist also suggested weeks ago I start taking a multi vitamin and fish oil and I participate in some kind of regular exercise - I've started the vitamin and the fish oil and am taking it everyday - I'm working on the exercise, it's still a sporadic activity, so my goal is finding a way to make it a more regular occurrence - I'll let y'all know how it goes.
9.06.2009
Eight Days
I was talking to a friend of mine the other day and ended up recounting this story... I don't know why I've not before because, in truth, it was a pretty significant moment in my marital history and colored the way I reacted to most things from then on out - in a lot of ways it set the tone for what happened during the second half of my marriage. It's actually one story with two themes... one story with two distinct moments... and as much as I've thought about it, I've not been able to divide the one into two separate postings so I will just muddle through here:
My (then) husband spent eight days in the hospital in early October of '98. It all started one morning when his therapist called me and said, "It's time." He'd come home weeks earlier saying he was unhappy and we started marriage counseling and the therapist told him she thought he was clinically depressed and she set up a counseling schedule with him and referred him to the doctor who put him on Prozac. That morning in October he had walked into his therapy session with a suicide letter and shared it with her. So she made the arrangements and I drove him to the hospital and he admitted himself. During the intake process they gave me his personal possessions and contained in all that was the sum of $200 in cash. He always had to have cash in his pockets, always, and not small amounts either, and to be honest I'm really not sure where he got it all from at any given time... but that's not the point, they gave me his cash and I put it in my wallet and left it there.
The drive home was long - mind racing, heart pounding, tears flowing. I was terrified - terrified for him, terrified for myself, terrified for the kids. I didn't know what I was supposed to say, what I was supposed to do... so I made my way back to town and collected the kids and I took them home. That night I crawled into bed, alone, for the first time in a very long time, and I cried myself to sleep. I was lost. I can't adequately express just what I was feeling... I can't seem to find the words to explain how stunned and scared I was. Everything I grasp at falls short. That, I suppose itself, says a lot. I was not emotionally capable of handling one more thing, one more crisis.
I wish I could recount each of those eight days but the truth is they were all a blur... I desperately tried to maintain our routine, son, after all was 11 and had just started middle school, daughter was three. Luckily I wasn't working at the time - I really have no idea how I would have managed that too. I don't remember any family coming around, holding my hand or volunteering to help out... and then at some point I realized there was something going on with the septic tank - at some place outside, near the house, it was backing up, or leaking... and I called my dad and I asked him for help and he and my mom reluctantly came out and looked it over and he said rather nonchalantly, "Guess you'll have to call a plumber" and then they left. I didn't really have the opportunity to ask him any questions... and I suppose I didn't adequately express how overwhelmed I was - so strike one... on my own. So I called the in laws and I asked them and they advised I look in the phonebook. So once again I was on my own, once again I suppose I didn't adequately express how overwhelmed I was - strike two. All I remember after that was sobbing and getting the phonebook and through tears, searching for the name of a plumber - I called one, he came out and to this day I'm not really sure what was wrong, all I know is it required getting another guy to come out and dig something and the bill was $618.
That whole experience - reaching out and being rejected - was like some kind of verification for me... I'd long suspected that reaching out, asking for help, was a pointless thing to do, and here I was, at my absolute lowest point ever - asking for someone to help me, asking someone to show me, take the reigns, let me rest - and nothing -nothing but rejection.... and it's not like it was asking just anyone - I was asking family. I guess I just put down the bat after that - no point in going for a strike three.
That's moment one... and so, as I said, I had to keep the routine going for the kids - and at the time son was playing soccer... and he had a game and daughter and I went and after the game we were all hungry... and it was late... so we decided to eat out, the three of us, and it was the most normal we'd felt during that whole time. We had an appetizer and our dinner and even ordered dessert - and we laughed and we talked and it felt ok, for a moment we all felt ok... and so I paid for the dinner and I used some of that $200.
Well, ex is released on the eighth day and I go to the hospital to pick him up and we go through this long, drawn out process, and the hospital has us in a room and is, in essence, shaking us down for money - they didn't want to wait on the insurance to reimburse them... they wanted money then and there... and I had to negotiate all this while he sat in the chair with a smirk on his face, like the whole thing was some kind of joke. But I finally got him home... finally got us all settled in... and one of the first things he asked for was the money - his $200, and I gave him what I had, minus the money I spent on dinner, and he just stared at it and said, in a controlled yet perturbed tone, "Where is the rest of it" and I explained to him what I had done, how we'd eaten out that one night and he said, rather coldly, "I want it back." And I remember being just stunned, almost like I had been slapped in the face - and the tears choked in my throat but I couldn't cry because this wasn't about me, none of this was about me, I couldn't have any emotions because if I did it might upset him and I couldn't do that on the day he got out of the hospital. I couldn't do that on any day from there after - the danger was always he'd end up back in the hospital, or worse, actually kill himself.
And it didn't matter to anyone, not one damn person, what I was going through, what I had been through - my world was collapsing around me, and I had two kids looking to me to make it ok, and I wasn't even ok myself - and here he was, no concept of what I'd been through - demanding money, like I had robbed him. And that became the dynamic - the unspoken dynamic - he would bully me and I would eat it, whatever emotions I had. There was always that look, that body language that said to me I had to be careful. I was constantly assessing the situation, always on hyper vigilant guard for any change, any indication that he wasn't happy or satisfied or safe. Now of course his bullying wasn't verbal - he was always so damn nice remember - but the message was loud and clear - my feelings, my wants, my desires, are always more important than yours, or the kids, or the family unit as a whole - and the only way I can describe it is to call it bullying... and the resentment in me that began building on that day wasn't because he was sick... it was never because he was sick, but because he never acknowledged my pain, never acknowledged my sacrifice - and he kept on sucking me dry, and I kept letting him... and y'all know the rest....
My (then) husband spent eight days in the hospital in early October of '98. It all started one morning when his therapist called me and said, "It's time." He'd come home weeks earlier saying he was unhappy and we started marriage counseling and the therapist told him she thought he was clinically depressed and she set up a counseling schedule with him and referred him to the doctor who put him on Prozac. That morning in October he had walked into his therapy session with a suicide letter and shared it with her. So she made the arrangements and I drove him to the hospital and he admitted himself. During the intake process they gave me his personal possessions and contained in all that was the sum of $200 in cash. He always had to have cash in his pockets, always, and not small amounts either, and to be honest I'm really not sure where he got it all from at any given time... but that's not the point, they gave me his cash and I put it in my wallet and left it there.
The drive home was long - mind racing, heart pounding, tears flowing. I was terrified - terrified for him, terrified for myself, terrified for the kids. I didn't know what I was supposed to say, what I was supposed to do... so I made my way back to town and collected the kids and I took them home. That night I crawled into bed, alone, for the first time in a very long time, and I cried myself to sleep. I was lost. I can't adequately express just what I was feeling... I can't seem to find the words to explain how stunned and scared I was. Everything I grasp at falls short. That, I suppose itself, says a lot. I was not emotionally capable of handling one more thing, one more crisis.
I wish I could recount each of those eight days but the truth is they were all a blur... I desperately tried to maintain our routine, son, after all was 11 and had just started middle school, daughter was three. Luckily I wasn't working at the time - I really have no idea how I would have managed that too. I don't remember any family coming around, holding my hand or volunteering to help out... and then at some point I realized there was something going on with the septic tank - at some place outside, near the house, it was backing up, or leaking... and I called my dad and I asked him for help and he and my mom reluctantly came out and looked it over and he said rather nonchalantly, "Guess you'll have to call a plumber" and then they left. I didn't really have the opportunity to ask him any questions... and I suppose I didn't adequately express how overwhelmed I was - so strike one... on my own. So I called the in laws and I asked them and they advised I look in the phonebook. So once again I was on my own, once again I suppose I didn't adequately express how overwhelmed I was - strike two. All I remember after that was sobbing and getting the phonebook and through tears, searching for the name of a plumber - I called one, he came out and to this day I'm not really sure what was wrong, all I know is it required getting another guy to come out and dig something and the bill was $618.
That whole experience - reaching out and being rejected - was like some kind of verification for me... I'd long suspected that reaching out, asking for help, was a pointless thing to do, and here I was, at my absolute lowest point ever - asking for someone to help me, asking someone to show me, take the reigns, let me rest - and nothing -nothing but rejection.... and it's not like it was asking just anyone - I was asking family. I guess I just put down the bat after that - no point in going for a strike three.
That's moment one... and so, as I said, I had to keep the routine going for the kids - and at the time son was playing soccer... and he had a game and daughter and I went and after the game we were all hungry... and it was late... so we decided to eat out, the three of us, and it was the most normal we'd felt during that whole time. We had an appetizer and our dinner and even ordered dessert - and we laughed and we talked and it felt ok, for a moment we all felt ok... and so I paid for the dinner and I used some of that $200.
Well, ex is released on the eighth day and I go to the hospital to pick him up and we go through this long, drawn out process, and the hospital has us in a room and is, in essence, shaking us down for money - they didn't want to wait on the insurance to reimburse them... they wanted money then and there... and I had to negotiate all this while he sat in the chair with a smirk on his face, like the whole thing was some kind of joke. But I finally got him home... finally got us all settled in... and one of the first things he asked for was the money - his $200, and I gave him what I had, minus the money I spent on dinner, and he just stared at it and said, in a controlled yet perturbed tone, "Where is the rest of it" and I explained to him what I had done, how we'd eaten out that one night and he said, rather coldly, "I want it back." And I remember being just stunned, almost like I had been slapped in the face - and the tears choked in my throat but I couldn't cry because this wasn't about me, none of this was about me, I couldn't have any emotions because if I did it might upset him and I couldn't do that on the day he got out of the hospital. I couldn't do that on any day from there after - the danger was always he'd end up back in the hospital, or worse, actually kill himself.
And it didn't matter to anyone, not one damn person, what I was going through, what I had been through - my world was collapsing around me, and I had two kids looking to me to make it ok, and I wasn't even ok myself - and here he was, no concept of what I'd been through - demanding money, like I had robbed him. And that became the dynamic - the unspoken dynamic - he would bully me and I would eat it, whatever emotions I had. There was always that look, that body language that said to me I had to be careful. I was constantly assessing the situation, always on hyper vigilant guard for any change, any indication that he wasn't happy or satisfied or safe. Now of course his bullying wasn't verbal - he was always so damn nice remember - but the message was loud and clear - my feelings, my wants, my desires, are always more important than yours, or the kids, or the family unit as a whole - and the only way I can describe it is to call it bullying... and the resentment in me that began building on that day wasn't because he was sick... it was never because he was sick, but because he never acknowledged my pain, never acknowledged my sacrifice - and he kept on sucking me dry, and I kept letting him... and y'all know the rest....
9.05.2009
Thursdays at Therapy
I had my third therapy session this week... it's a really interesting experience to be doing this after the fact, so to speak. Therapy is so so valuable during the storm... it helps you cope and it gives you tools and strategies to keep your head above water... keeps you focused, in a way, so you don't get so far derailed. It's a terribly easy thing to do to get self destructive and start self medicating in really crummy ways. Pain is such a frightening thing...
So here I am, therapy after the fact, and I'm learning how valuable it is - it's sorta like a debriefing. I am at a place right now where I have all that I need... I've made progress... as the therapist said, "You are most definitely in an enviable position." She pointed out there are many people who would love to be where I am. I know this... I most definitely feel blessed. I have a wonderful new job, one I can only say I was led to by God... it was in the plan... HAD to be in the plan. It wasn't easy to get here, took some patience and work, took me stepping out of my comfort zone. The rewards are numerous, both personally and professionally. I get to help kids, often times in quiet, behind the scene ways. I am their advocate, and at times it's frustrating but the frustration is motivating... drives me to persistence. Personally I get to exercise my brain - the job really makes me think sometimes. I have to write things, and I have to strategize and I have to work with people and negotiate and compromise and, at times, dig in my heels and be that stubborn girl I've been known to channel at times (green skin anyone).
The kids are doing well... that's a huge blessing. They are good kids, good, good kids. Life isn't perfect and I juggle the parent to an adult and I juggle the parent to a teenage girl... but I've remained consistent with them and it's helped get us through. My son has his degree, no debt and a job he seems to enjoy. My daughter is doing well in high school, is busy with dance, and continues to be a thoughtful, good hearted girl. Dance has been huge in keeping her focused during the separation and divorce. I am a firm believer that children have to have goals and activites that challenge them, motivate them, teach them about themselves. Dance has defintely done that for her... and it's put her in an environment where she is surrounded by young women who are smart and talented - young women who go to college, make good grades, have a direction. I've always been impressed by how great it is the dance studio owner is able to get such wonderful college girls to come in and teach. These girls take what they do seriously - not only the dance instruction but their influence on the younger girls. They are college girls, after all, but there is a balance to who they are, a balance to how they conduct themselves. And now, in four years, I'm very aware my daughter will be a college girl too... ouch :-)
I'm financially better off now than I have been in a while. I need to shore up my savings account but now I should be able to do that. We have wonderful health insurance now, such a huge, huge thing - that little card is like solid gold... for the first time in a decade I have health insurance I can actually use should the need arise - what a weight lifted off my shoulders!
I have friends - I go to out to eat with them, take little trips, shop. I went and had dinner at the house of another former co-worker last night - she and I talked until 2 in the morning. I do things for myself these days - things I would never have done before - I have my monthly manicure/pedicure... I'm taking those classes at the dance studio, I'm buying theatre tickets and going to the movies... I'm doing all I can to enjoy as much of life as I can...
I have my faith back... but I guess the truth is it never left me. I see God's hands all around me, in everything that happens. It's not always sunshine and roses... but He gives a light to whatever comes, whether happy or sad... and for a while I had lost that knowledge - for a while I had forgotten that. I can honestly say with all my heart that I've never not had what I needed. I may not have recognized it at the time, I may not have been able to have the faith to believe it, but that's the truth... I have had what I've need - perhaps not on my time table or in the package I thought it should be in, but once I shut up and listened, it all started to make sense in some way or another. And I sit here today knowing there are other things for me - somewhere out there - wonderful things, I just don't know what they are yet, and I have to be patient and live my life. It will all happen when it happens...
And I've learned some lessons :
(1) Life truly is about the journey, not the destination, because ultimately the destination is death - and gee... who's in a hurry to get there? But I didn't always see it like that - especially after the divorce. After the divorce I was so ready to recapture what I had lost, so ready to make up ground and "right" all my wrongs, and it just doesn't work like that. Life truly is about travel, the sights and sounds along the way - the connections and the experiences... and should the Lord truly feel the desire to bless me with more abundance than He already has, then I will find that one person to share the journey with me. I may have already and it's just not time yet... who knows, I surely don't!
(2) I've stopped seeing things so much in black and white... there are no absolutes, except for the ones we impose on ourselves. There is a solace in that knowledge... a comfort. It doesn't remove sadness or disappointment from life, it just sorta puts it in perspective. It's all right to mourn, it's all right to cry, it's all right to be confused - it's all right to feel. Even if it hurts. But it's not all right to get stuck in it and it's not all right to use pain as an excuse to justify bad behavior.
And sorta continuing the above thought -
(3) I can still care about people without losing myself in it... I can love them, support them, pray for them, even from afar... without risking myself and my health... I can set a boundary, even if painful, even if that means temporarily removing them from my everyday life, even if eventually that means they become permanently gone. I don't have to be a victim... I do have control, if only of myself...
It's all right, don't ya think?
So here I am, therapy after the fact, and I'm learning how valuable it is - it's sorta like a debriefing. I am at a place right now where I have all that I need... I've made progress... as the therapist said, "You are most definitely in an enviable position." She pointed out there are many people who would love to be where I am. I know this... I most definitely feel blessed. I have a wonderful new job, one I can only say I was led to by God... it was in the plan... HAD to be in the plan. It wasn't easy to get here, took some patience and work, took me stepping out of my comfort zone. The rewards are numerous, both personally and professionally. I get to help kids, often times in quiet, behind the scene ways. I am their advocate, and at times it's frustrating but the frustration is motivating... drives me to persistence. Personally I get to exercise my brain - the job really makes me think sometimes. I have to write things, and I have to strategize and I have to work with people and negotiate and compromise and, at times, dig in my heels and be that stubborn girl I've been known to channel at times (green skin anyone).
The kids are doing well... that's a huge blessing. They are good kids, good, good kids. Life isn't perfect and I juggle the parent to an adult and I juggle the parent to a teenage girl... but I've remained consistent with them and it's helped get us through. My son has his degree, no debt and a job he seems to enjoy. My daughter is doing well in high school, is busy with dance, and continues to be a thoughtful, good hearted girl. Dance has been huge in keeping her focused during the separation and divorce. I am a firm believer that children have to have goals and activites that challenge them, motivate them, teach them about themselves. Dance has defintely done that for her... and it's put her in an environment where she is surrounded by young women who are smart and talented - young women who go to college, make good grades, have a direction. I've always been impressed by how great it is the dance studio owner is able to get such wonderful college girls to come in and teach. These girls take what they do seriously - not only the dance instruction but their influence on the younger girls. They are college girls, after all, but there is a balance to who they are, a balance to how they conduct themselves. And now, in four years, I'm very aware my daughter will be a college girl too... ouch :-)
I'm financially better off now than I have been in a while. I need to shore up my savings account but now I should be able to do that. We have wonderful health insurance now, such a huge, huge thing - that little card is like solid gold... for the first time in a decade I have health insurance I can actually use should the need arise - what a weight lifted off my shoulders!
I have friends - I go to out to eat with them, take little trips, shop. I went and had dinner at the house of another former co-worker last night - she and I talked until 2 in the morning. I do things for myself these days - things I would never have done before - I have my monthly manicure/pedicure... I'm taking those classes at the dance studio, I'm buying theatre tickets and going to the movies... I'm doing all I can to enjoy as much of life as I can...
I have my faith back... but I guess the truth is it never left me. I see God's hands all around me, in everything that happens. It's not always sunshine and roses... but He gives a light to whatever comes, whether happy or sad... and for a while I had lost that knowledge - for a while I had forgotten that. I can honestly say with all my heart that I've never not had what I needed. I may not have recognized it at the time, I may not have been able to have the faith to believe it, but that's the truth... I have had what I've need - perhaps not on my time table or in the package I thought it should be in, but once I shut up and listened, it all started to make sense in some way or another. And I sit here today knowing there are other things for me - somewhere out there - wonderful things, I just don't know what they are yet, and I have to be patient and live my life. It will all happen when it happens...
And I've learned some lessons :
(1) Life truly is about the journey, not the destination, because ultimately the destination is death - and gee... who's in a hurry to get there? But I didn't always see it like that - especially after the divorce. After the divorce I was so ready to recapture what I had lost, so ready to make up ground and "right" all my wrongs, and it just doesn't work like that. Life truly is about travel, the sights and sounds along the way - the connections and the experiences... and should the Lord truly feel the desire to bless me with more abundance than He already has, then I will find that one person to share the journey with me. I may have already and it's just not time yet... who knows, I surely don't!
(2) I've stopped seeing things so much in black and white... there are no absolutes, except for the ones we impose on ourselves. There is a solace in that knowledge... a comfort. It doesn't remove sadness or disappointment from life, it just sorta puts it in perspective. It's all right to mourn, it's all right to cry, it's all right to be confused - it's all right to feel. Even if it hurts. But it's not all right to get stuck in it and it's not all right to use pain as an excuse to justify bad behavior.
And sorta continuing the above thought -
(3) I can still care about people without losing myself in it... I can love them, support them, pray for them, even from afar... without risking myself and my health... I can set a boundary, even if painful, even if that means temporarily removing them from my everyday life, even if eventually that means they become permanently gone. I don't have to be a victim... I do have control, if only of myself...
It's all right, don't ya think?
9.04.2009
A Few Pics...
I have a friend who is a huge music person... he has a blog about it -http://djs-groovysounds.blogspot.com/
If you've never checked it out and are curious, give it a go. Good stuff there.
So, every work day morning I park my car in the parking lot next to the town square and I walk to my office building and I see this place and it reminds me of him...this is the old B and T Tape Shoppe. Now I really have no idea what the B stands for or the T, for that matter and the place is no longer in business, but I can remember it used to be a pretty popular place to go and buy music at one time (although I personally had never been in there)... my brother would go there sometimes and find the most out of the box stuff. But then again, my brother has always been an "outta the box" kinda guy.
Daughter started dance classes this week - now the school year is in full swing... woohoo... we will be busy people again until the end of May - but that's ok :-) She goes four days a week but the only bad day is Thursday when she's there until 8:15... a little frustrating on those few nights (like last night) when Carolina plays a Thursday night game - Go Cocks! (get your mind out of the gutter, sheesh) My classes don't start until October. I am taking belly dancing and a mom's fitness class - note to self : google a place to buy a jingly skirt. I'm a little bummed my classes have to wait until October but, oh well... my mom is signed up for belly dancing too... should be good for a few laughs! So here we have the obligatory pointe shoe pic... she didn't need new ones this year - a good thing because they are both expensive (for me) and hard to break in (for her, duh) so this year we have neither the added expense nor the need to break in a new pair, oh, and no need to sew on ribbons... 'cause that can sorta be a, well, ummm... tiny bit of a bitch to do.
And so we come to the last pic of the day.... I went to a little gift shop on the town square today to get the (ex) father in law a birthday card and I found this - what a hoot! Had to have it for my office... not only because it's quite clever, but it's also been said I bear a striking resemblance to the Wicked Witch. 'Must be the green skin...Now, how exciting is my life? Don't answer that... I know, I know...
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