Monday, October 31, 2011

How to Hurt and Be Hurt

I'm an asshole. This is something I've known for a long time and I'm OK with it. I normally don't hurt anyone and only offend accidentally, quickly apologizing - and doing so sincerely - if the matter is brought to my attention. If you do something that upsets me, I will address the issue with tact, civility, and diplomacy. If you come back at me like an asshole, the gloves come off, I choose my words carefully, and I let you know that you are being a dick and that I'm not going to let you get away with that. That happens very rarely because even if you are an asshole, most people appreciate tact and civility and are just happy that you aren't making a big deal out of something. So normally, you can think of me like this:
But sometimes, on very, very, very rare occasions, I slip up and turn into this:
How do I go from one to the other? Well, something has been done to me that upsets me greatly and I get tired of always being the bigger person, taking the high road, being objective, and not saying anything. To my credit, you really have to hurt me deeply for Super Cunt to come out and play. I don't have a hair trigger temper and I'm usually pretty rational, but if you betray me in a big enough way, there is a chance that I'll snap.

And just to get this out there from the get go, I don't think that this is OK behavior. On the contrary, I find it utterly deplorable and am horrified by this side of myself. As I stated in my previous post, I behaved like an utter cunt muffin recently and hurt someone. This is the story of how two people who care about one another can do their best to be utter and complete assholes to one another.

Below is a picture of the two people involved in what I like to think of as "The Initial Hurting". Friend A was one of my very best friends. I've known this person for some time and we became very close friends. Friend B is a fun person who I've known for not very long.
 One day, Friend A pulled Friend B aside and had a five minute conversation that included discussing something that was personal to me. Friend A didn't realize that just because the matter involved the two of us, it wasn't OK to share the info since it was a breach of privacy. When I found out, normal, run of the mill asshole me was stunned.
Like I said, though, Friend A didn't realize that my privacy had been invaded and that by talking to Friend B, A had thoroughly betrayed me. So I tried to be my usual objective and forgiving self. I tried to reconcile it within myself because I knew Friend A had not acted with malice.

Friend A just hadn't considered my feelings.

Friend A never considers my feelings but just acts on impulse.

Friend A is always forgiven and yet never seems to learn.

Friend A fucking fucked me over!

This built up inside me, this feeling of utter betrayal and disregard. My privacy is incredibly important to me and Friend A broke one of the most important rules of my life. I tried to be fair but this just built up and built up and Super Cunt overruled Regular Asshole and I acted. Badly. I did my best to make Friend A feel as shitty as I'd been made to feel. And, because I'm an asshole normally, I dragged poor, innocently by-standing Friend B into the mix. That's right, not content to just hurt my very good friend, Friend A, I thought I'd fuck with our mutual friend, Friend B.

So let's do the math, shall we?

As you can see by the technical diagram/formula above, I can be one of the most magnificently malevolent cunts  if I put my mind to it. As I like to say, when I drop the ball, I don't just drop it but kick it into the woods.

So this was very obviously shitty, this business of hurting one another. Amazingly, Friend A, who I all but destroyed, forgave me! And Friend B was even pretty cool. I was never so relieved and surprised when Friend A told me that we could just move on and that my explanation had been accepted (note I said explanation and not justification).

And it was wonderful.

Friend A and I spent the weekend hanging out and having a ball as usual. In fact, I think we had an even better time just because we'd gone through what we had and realized that our friendship was stronger than ever.

Until... Friend A intimated quite strongly that I was a user and that our friendship was based solely on material gains that benefited me.

To say I was shocked would be an understatement. So stunned was I that it took me a minute to react. When I did, attempting to convey my hurt, Friend A made it abundantly clear that my feelings did not matter. I then listened to an explanation of how Friend A felt and what had just taken place - the insult - was not even touched upon. I tried again, tried to explain that I had been insulted and hurt and that now I wasn't even allowed to have feelings that mattered.

And then we started yelling at one another. Friend A accused me of twisting things, saying that I always twisted things. The awful thing that I had done was thrown back at me.

 So I left. I gathered my shit and I went home. It was incredibly late and incredibly cold but I had no other option available to me. I needed to get out because otherwise I was going to have to sit and listen to what an utter piece of shit I am.

Distracted, I forgot my purse. My purse which contained my wallet and cell phone. So I had to go back.

We talked. Rather, Friend A talked a lot and I listened. In the end I said that everything was behind me but that I could not continue to be such a close friend because I'd always be afraid of it happening again. It was emotionally exhausting and we both felt like shit. But I felt we left on good terms.

Until the emails started.
"You're the best friend I've ever had."
"I can never trust you again."
"I'll never forget all the fun we had together."
"You like hurting people and twisting the knife. Good for fucking you."
"I've never been so hurt."
"I honestly don't believe you. Goodbye."
Eventually we just agreed that we were no longer friends. Or I thought we had but the emails kept coming and I was warned, in advance, that Friend A might say some nasty things. I responded stating that as we were no longer friends, the emails should cease. But Friend A asked for closure. I said, go nuts but don't expect a response from me since you think I'm a deceitful bitch.

And that is how I've left it. I have nothing left to offer because what I had offered was not accepted. One of the last things I said to Friend A in person was "you are trying to force A's from a D student and that isn't fair." I have been on the receiving end of some vitriol and I fully expect more to come before it ends. I'm more than willing to accept my part of the blame; I've never once tried to pretend that what I did was anything but shitty. I've said multiple times that it is the worst thing I've ever done and that I regret it entirely. But I am not accepting responsibility for everything. It isn't my fault that I could not give this person what they wanted and I was always honest about that, my inability to give what was being asked. It isn't my fault that my feelings were never really considered or that I was never listened to. I did nothing to be betrayed in the first place.

A very wise woman once told me the following:
"That's the thing about the asshole business... there is always room for one more that will admit to being one... most asshole swear to God Almighty that the are just trying to do, well whatever. and really they are just being assholes."
I accept that I'm an asshole and I try my best not to hurt others. When I do, I feel a true sense of remorse and apologize. If you can't forgive me fully, I totally understand. But don't tell me that all is forgiven and then treat me like shit. Because I'm an asshole and I know when you are playing games with me and when you are being honest.

Because an asshole can always correctly identify asshole behavior in others.

Friday, October 28, 2011

If it gets you through the (shitty) day

Yesterday I did something awful. I used one person to hurt another as revenge for their having hurt me. It was one of the meanest things I've ever done in my life and I am thoroughly ashamed of myself. Today has been difficult to say the least. It may get better and it may not. I have to wait and see, my favorite game. I've apologized to both parties but I still just shudder when I think about what a complete and utter cunt muffin I was.

Fortunately, however, I've had some fun distractions to help get me through my nine hours of having-to-be-at-work-and-upset-hell. And it is all because of a silent auction charity thing my office is doing (yes, the very kind that I bitched about in my last post) and because I wore a t-shirt with this slogan:
This was bought for me, incidentally, by the friend that I hurt. How poetic, I suppose. At any rate, here is the best conversation I've had all day, using instant messenger (note: I am probably the only one on the planet that thinks this is funny, but hey, you have to do what you have to do). Thanks office charity group! Thanks friend that hurt me and who I then hurt worse! 
Me: When they announce the winners of the silent auction items, people are going to clap. People are going to be applauded for buying things.
Work Colleague: I feel like you’re making a point here but I don’t know what it is.
Me: I just thought about it and thought it was weird.  I think I’m one of the winners though.
WC: You should have put your sarcasm shirt in the auction and auctioned off sarcasm and “other services.”
Me: Unsolicited Snark and Sass
WC: That would be a good name for your bookstore. In my mind, you own a bookstore.
Me: Neat! Do I have a successful one? You can have a flower shop.
WC:  With a name like ‘snark and sass’ how could it not?
Me: Just books though, no music section. Fuck music, we read here!
WC is no longer available

dedicated to UT and DJ, with heartfelt apologies with none of my sarcasm

Thursday, October 27, 2011

I'm 99.9% certain that I am the first person in my company's volunteer organization to chair a project and use bullying and bribery to get others to participate.

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Real Time

Give till it hurts - and then we'll have a party!
At what point did I become this curmudgeonly old lady? And how did I not notice it was happening? Granted, I've always been somewhat of an asshole, but I've always tried to be fair and objective and not get upset if other people are having fun in a way that annoys me (i.e. drunk people screaming down the streets, super loud video games, people yelling at the television during sporting events [which I am now guilty of]). If people are really into baskets or those god awful quilted purses and want to chatter away at one another about them, that's perfectly fine. So what if people at work seem to really like ice. I like ice just fine but I don't get upset and bring it in if the ice maker doesn't work. But meh, so what. Peeps like it. Not everyone likes the things I like and that's cool. It's the differences that make us the same as they used to say when I was in elementary school. What they really meant was "nobody is identical in tastes all the time and that is fine; just mind your own fucking business unless someone is actively harming themselves or others. And if you don't like mother fucking ice, don't use any."


But my god, with the fucking baby showers, wedding showers, volunteering events, raffles, auctions, bake sales, sundae sales, pot lucks, the whole bit. When does that shit fucking stop? OK, yes, I'm in charge of one of the volunteer events right now because I wanted to do something to help out my girl with the ailing husband. But for one thing, I farm out the responsibility because I suck at and dislike being in charge of this sort of thing, and I try my best to let everyone on the committee know that we are going to be unobtrusive about it as much as possible. Limited emails sent out to the distribution, no solicitation for extra food stuffs, no request for volunteers to do anything. I know the office is burned out because I am burned out. So after this, I'm done.

It just seems like every fuck day there is something going on, something we need to celebrate and use our lunch hours on. And I just feel like saying "fuck no" whenever someone asks if I'm going to participate. "Fuck no I'm not making something for the pot luck." "Fuck no I'm not donating to a gift card at Baby Gap." "Fuck no I don't want to chair a committee." I just want to sit in my cubicle, do my work, fuck around on instant messenger, and read some stuff on line when I need to uncross my eyes.

Is it annoying to receive so many emails that aren't work related? Kind of. Is it that difficult to just delete them? Not at all. Am I tired of all the flyers and shit all over the common areas? Yes - but didn't I just say that I want to stay in my cubicle? So what's with this attitude? Is it that I don't like the super cheery and upbeat people who are heavily involved in these things? Well, it isn't that I don't like them per se, but I think I've had it with the hyper optimistic, let's all be extremely chipper, can do demeanor. Sometimes I want to say to people "certain aspects of your life suck right now - calm down and show less affect!" And can we quit congratulating one another? Half the time you know what? No, Suzy Que did not do a stellar job on the event. Half the time Suzy Que fucked up some things but they were taken care of by other people. And even if Suzy Que and Siman Says did do a great job, why must we all pat them on the backs when they are supposedly doing it for charitable or altruistic reasons? I get it, we are all wonderful children of a loving god who watches over us and sees each of our individual moves at every moment and glory be unto him that we are so fucking awesome*. But enough already!

*Obviously I'm being sarcastic but the main participants do happen to be avid church goers and one emailed the entire office and ended it with "God Bless" once.
 
Pinata
Things are happening in my life right now that I don't like thinking about or focusing on. My personal life is a bizarre mixture of hide and seek, a staring contest, and an acid trip (sans the acid). My professional life feels like a gaping wound or a hangnail that I continue worrying whilst forgetting to actually take care of it. My social life is mixed up and off balance, my having a ball on the weekends going out like the young people do but neglecting, during the week, other social obligations like letter writing, keeping in touch, maintaining newborn relationships. I feel like I'm in a constant state of flux or else suspended animation and I have a feeling that makes absolutely no sense. But that's OK because it doesn't need to.

I'm still not feeling much on an emotional level. I still grieve every day over my marriage and J. But I also know more and more that this had to happen and that it really is better that it happened now rather than later. I was looking at my stats, as we narcissists are prone to do from time to time, and I saw that my open letter to J was a popular post. So I emailed him and just said that I know this is hard and that I won't push him on the paperwork and I won't make things difficult for him and I hoped he'd read that post because I meant every word of it. I never heard back. I don't take it personally because I know he'll respond if and when he wants to. But I also fear that he doesn't really understand that it is truly over between us and so I'm conflicted, wanting to not push him and let him go at his own pace with regards to the formality of divorce whilst also wanting to ask him if he knows its over and make sure he isn't holding onto false hope. Either way I feel like a total bitch, heartless, self centered, and only worried about myself.

It's kind of like my theory that I can cope with things better when they happen to me because I know what I'm feeling and I know what I'm thinking. When it was J, I always feared he hurt worse than he'd admit or that he was more scared than he'd admit or that he just wasn't as OK as he tried to seem. I know he is sad about our marriage ending but I don't know all that he feels and, quite frankly, I don't think I have any right to them. But it's the control freak in me that wants to swoop down on him, spy into his mind, and then somehow, magically, make everything OK for him. I can't of course, and I'll just have to suck it up. He can take care of himself, even if I don't necessarily trust that he will. He's a grown up, accomplished, intelligent, responsible, logical, and capable. He doesn't need me to mother him or worry over him incessantly. He probably needs me to back off and wait for him to contact me now that I think about it. The last time I texted him I didn't hear back and so that is the only reason not hearing back from him regarding the email kind of has me spooked. But I need to back off and just give him space and time. I need to let go for fuck's sake. 

So that is what I'll do. Thanks, internet! Typing into this big black hole actually helped me figure something out for once.

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

I realize more and more how much I do not belong to myself and I'm never happy about that. I cannot do a thing or feel a thing without it effing affecting someone else, without my having to be responsible for another person's feelings or emotions. I shouldn't be upset about that, obviously, as it plays the same role in my life from other people.

But really? How does anyone live a life when s/he has to count on some other person's reaction? Ask an innocent question at work and have someone *yell* at you for being so audacious as to copy another person. Consider doing something and have another person say "that might hurt me even though you are your own person and I have no claim on you." Decide you don't want to do a seemingly 'fun' thing and hear "so you never want to do this again because you are no fun!"

It's weird because it isn't something simple like a declination of an invitation but maybe I am considering doing something meaningless and someone else finds lots of meaning there. I can no longer do that specific thing for fear of losing a friend for a bullshit reason.

Friday, October 21, 2011

I Doubt Your Psychiatrist Really Does

They have a cream for that
Why yes, that was quite exciting, was it not? Lions, grizzly bears, Bengal tigers, monkeys (some with herpes, some without), and wolves were running amuck in eastern Ohio. Both a friend in New Jersey and my mother asked me if it was anywhere near my place (no) and did I have to dodge large animals on my way to work that morning (no, but I did have to drive through pouring rain). At first I didn't even know what my friend was talking about. I was running late for work and my radio station was finishing up a fund raiser so news was sparse. Getting the details from someone in NJ was funny because I took it as "animals escaped from the zoo and ate the zoo keeper!" In actuality, this weird guy with 70+ acres of land collected all sorts of animals, had a rotten life, got angry and/or depressed, let the animals out of their cages (and even cut the fencing to ensure they could not be returned) and then shot himself. I wonder if he would have done it if he'd known that most of them would have been killed.

That is some crazy shit though, isn't it? And the media really seems to enjoy carting out that picture of a dead lion. Really? I think the only good thing that has come from this, other than the fact that Ohio now has to start talking about regulations on owning 'exotic animals' is the phrase: "...a monkey, infected with herpes B virus, was found to have been eaten by one of the large cats..." Oh come on! Tell me that isn't kind of hilarious. A herpes monkey was feared to be on the loose and he'd forgotten his Valtrex! Men, women, and children were at risk of getting monkey herpes! But large cat to the rescue because it ate herpes monkey! Phew! How the fuck do you know if a monkey has herpes? Did it have a cold sore or raised sores on its bathing suit area? Does the large cat automatically have monkey herpes now? Is monkey herpes the new AIDs?

Get Low
There was a (non) issue at work regarding the coffee supply. Someone emailed EA that we were totally out but EA had taken a vacation day so she called me. I called the supplier and notified the office that things were under control. I then had three separate requests that I ask the supplier to refresh our stock of Sweet n' Low. Really? Sweet n' Low? It's that popular? I mean, whatever, I know it doesn't have to carry the cancer warning any more but is it just me or is it a little weird that it is so popular? It's like having people request that our vending machine start carrying Tab or Diet Rite.

The Boss
In other work news, I was supposed to get a day without my boss but it fell through. You would have thought someone took away a day's pay or a cherished pony given how pissed off upset I became. He was scheduled to fly out to a satellite office in order to attend a meeting but the meeting was canceled at the last minute. I stomped around the office and went up to people saying things like "I was owed this day! I was freaking owed this time away from the man!" But I'm off on Monday so I'll take what I can get. Why do I dislike my boss so much? Because he isn't a good manager, he pushes as much of his responsibility onto me as possible, and the one time I broached the concept of changing my title and pay grade given a recent project I'd taken over, he did not respond and, instead, undercut me in the next two emails I received (with others copied) and in a third that was just to me. He wants to play and chat when I have work to do, he fails to communicate things to me and then tells me that he did and I just forgot, and he doesn't take things seriously. He also has a tremendous chip on his shoulder from having been demoted, not taking any responsibility whatsoever.  He's pretentious and pompous, hypocritical, arrogant, and summons me by yelling for me from his office like I'm a dog. It is too much for him to pick up his phone and dial my four digit extension. That's why I dislike my boss. I should never have applied for my present job and I regret it fairly frequently. That being said, I bitched and moaned in my former position and every so often I remember that the grass is always greener and I would be miserable if I still had my former colleague. I make decent money, I'm mostly independent in my day, and it was a step up. I just thought I'd explain why it is I bitch about the man so much.

I have a certain amount of vague guilt because most people that know me are well aware of my utter disdain for my boss. So much so, in fact, that I sometimes wonder if he is aware of it on some level. It has been almost a year of being summoned by his yelling from his office and that shit got old pretty quickly. I don't know why I didn't ask him to stop it but there you go. These days it is fairly common for me to mutter "mother fucker" before saying "yes sir" and getting up and walking over. But whenever I'm talking to people and he somehow comes up in the conversation, my entire affect changes and rarely will you hear anything positive from me. So they know, my office mates, they know. Maybe that is why my attitude has gotten progressively worse lately.

No more of that
To end on a positive note, I am going to a Halloween party tomorrow. At a pub! I'm going as a nun and the costume is shorter than I thought so I have to get stockings. Happily, the shortness is the only slutty thing about it, the rest of it being all high collar and long sleeves. There is even a habit. Hopefully I'll look cute and not awful.

And, even more exciting, I have an interesting keyword search that led someone to this blog: "My psychiatrist loves to suck my dick". Who the hell searches something like that?!?!?!?!

Monday, October 17, 2011

With your host, Guy Smiley.


Perspective
My friend’s husband was diagnosed with cirrhosis of the liver recently. It is advanced and they don’t know the cause of it (not a drinker). He might not have much time left. I went and I hugged my friend and told her “anything you need, let me know. I know I’m useless but I’ll do my best.” But she just needed the hug and friendship and so I told her I was there no matter what. And then she said to me “oh, Cat, even with your illness you are so strong and good.”

That took me aback. This woman has a husband who might not be a candidate for a liver transplant because he might not live that long and she’s telling me I’m strong? She is at work today. She is showing up and carrying on after spending the weekend sitting with her husband and going over accounts and checking life insurance and having the conversation you never want to have. And yet she thinks I’m strong because I’m willing to be there for her? This woman is, without a doubt, one of the nicest people I’ve ever met in my life. I never realized before just how strong she is until now.

And it really puts things into perspective. I’m pretty good about snapping myself out of self-pitying moods and reminding myself about how good I actually have it. But I do give in, from time to time, and lose my shit altogether. And it’s usually because I’m impatient or scared. I can’t imagine how impatient and scared my friend must be having to wait for appointments to come and for test results to be in. I can’t imagine that fear, that not knowing how long her husband might have. And yet here she is with a good attitude and a kind word to throw at yours truly.

The Usual
My weekend was, as per usual, quite fun. I went out to some bars and danced and met new people and enjoyed myself tremendously. I think I’m doing what I should have been doing years ago – enjoying myself while I’m still young. J is not one to go out and he is not one to meet new people. He most definitely is not one to go out dancing. And that is perfectly OK. He had a lot of times in his younger years when he went out to bars and drank and came on to girls and so he evidently worked that out of his system. But I very rarely did young people things and I just couldn’t whilst married to him because it would have been awkward. I’d have to go by myself or drag him out (shudder) or somehow convince him that I can hang out with guy friends and have it be nothing more than a platonic good time.

Oh dear. This makes it seem like J is some sort of ogre who kept me from enjoying myself. He most certainly did not. It was just a strange situation and our personalities, whilst quite similar, are different enough that I just wasn’t happy staying home and not doing anything all the time. He was busy with work and in his free time, going to bars, drinking, dancing, and getting someone to give you a ride home was nowhere on the list of what he’d like to do. And like I said, that’s fine. But I really couldn’t have done those things while we were together because it would have just felt wrong. Not that I’d be cheating on him but he’d always wonder if I was going to put myself at risk of being taken advantage of by some guy. Or he’d worry that I wouldn’t make it home OK. And I’d resent his worrying. But now that we are no longer together, I’m free to go out and have fun and let loose.

And I still see him on Sundays when I treat him to a meal at our favorite pub. Part of me wonders if he thinks I’m getting through all of this too quickly. He knows I hang out with Kin Twin on the weekends and he commented on it. I told him that yes, I was hanging out with him a lot but that we weren’t dating. “Does he know that?” was J’s question. “Absolutely” was my answer. But soon I’m going to have to let J know that we are living as single people now. Because our marriage is not going to work out. I’m not going to push him on the paperwork because I know it is difficult. I haven’t looked at it myself in about a week. But this is going to happen and I need him to understand that. Because I want him to be open to other options and possibilities. And I want him to go out and have his own version of fun.

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Swinging

My blog is playing games with me. One moment it is saying that I did not publish that last post and the next moment it is telling me that I did. Who knew that a blog could reflect the blogger's mindset?

Have you ever gone from feeling normal, even-keeled, and just go with the flow to fiendishly irritable and maniacally frustrated? That happened to me today and it is something that happens every so often. I posted the last bit of nonsense and, before I knew it, I felt like this:


And I really did want to just slump in my chair, cross my arms, and wait for someone to come to my cubicle so that I could pick a fight. Fortunately, this did not happen. Instead, a potential candidate responded to an email stating that there was no way he could work for this company because we don't pay enough and blah blah blah. That helped fuel the anger building inside of me and I took it out on him. Well, not directly, of course, because that would be very bad. No, I did so indirectly through mocking him, anonymously, to other people. I've even come up with a boilerplate email template that I am going to use from now on whenever anyone emails me and says "no way in hell, toots, you don't pay enough for my self-righteous ass." It goes thusly:
"Dear Sir:
     Thank you for letting me know that you are not interested in joining our company. I understand that, as a very important person, you expect blow jobs instead of handshakes and so of course you cannot afford to work for the rates we pay. We are contracted with state agencies and, if we were able to compensate you handsomely, as is your due, I'm sure you would bitch about the wastefulness of government spending come tax time.
     As it is, I'm certain you will bitch like a little girl with a skinned knee when determinations in your field are taken away from the experts and put in the hands of lawyers. You will whine and moan and stomp and complain and blame everyone, never realizing that this has been done because the experts refused to do the work without getting a fat payday.
     In closing, I would like to invite you to kindly fuck off for telling me how much you make an hour at other companies like mine as it is nothing at all like the pittance that mere peons like myself make and it was quite unnecessary of you to rub it in.
      Fuck you, fuck you very much,

                Simply a Girl
                 Surliest Employee Ever"
 Was this the most mature response I could have had? No, obviously it wasn't. But it was the best one at the time and it made me feel better and that is really what it is all about, especially when the ride into work was slightly nightmarish and setting the stage for the rest of the day. 




List to a crisp

Burn Baby Burn
Well that was certainly fun. Fuel tanker crashed last night and so the highway situation is, to say the least, not good. And everyone keeps talking about it and comparing their commutes. Some bitch that it happened over ten hours ago as though it is nothing to clean up thousands of gallons of gasoline and make things safe for everyone. So you were late to work, big effing deal. The driver of the tanker died; who had the shittier experience?

Get Off Your Lazy Ass List
I got my lazy list completed yesterday I am pleased to say! Well, the absolutes and the trip to the grocery store, not all the maybes. I now have vacuumed rugs in the living and dining rooms, the surfaces have been organized and de-cluttered, and I picked up all fatty's hay*. And food! I have food! Today's list is a bit trickier because I've decided it's time I start paying KT back for being really nice and generous to me. So I'm going to start cleaning his utility room and I'm going to launder all of the bedding that is, for some reason, on the floor down there. I can't really afford to do anything grandiose, and he wouldn't really like that anyway, but I can clean like a mother fucker and so I shall. So here is today's list:
  1. Straighten up bedroom and sort out clothes for tomorrow.
  2. Begin sorting out KT's utility room.
  3. Read more of book club book.
Not very taxing, I admit. But KT has a roommate and two bachelors do not a tidy home make. And I'm really behind on the book club tip and we meet on Thursday so I need to get my butt in gear. I'm so pleased that I was actually able to accomplish things I put down on a list yesterday that I'm hoping it will carry on throughout the week. I'll keep the lists short, of course, in order to make them doable, but nonetheless, I'm going to give this list business a chance. Here's hoping.

Monday, October 10, 2011

I Am A Lazy Daisy

I was going to be more explanatory in this post and explain about how I went from wanting to be super healthy and wholesome to getting up to no good (innocent no good, not debauched no good) on the weekends. I was going to explain this picture:


But that evidently requires too much effort so I'll just let you use your imagination(s). This should help demonstrate how lazy I am; it is my 'to do' list for after work today (notice the note I wrote myself after the first "maybe"):

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

Nothing or Everything or All. At. Once.

Those who are truly close to me understand that there are two parts of my personality that are fairly overwhelming. One is that I'm intense. I'm hyper and type A and I clench my toes and my hands throughout the day. I'm also just an intense person to deal with. My BFF, K, put it quite nicely to a mutual friend saying "all things Cat are intense" meaning not just one thing or one circumstance, all things. And that is true. I've realized that over the past few years and I even warn people about it. When I have a direction from someone to get something done I want it done right. this. fucking. minute. I will track you down in the office to find out the answer, even if it can wait a few days. If I'm tasked with putting together a lunch or a meeting, I will not stop freaking out about the details until everyone has come and gone. It's just how I am, for better or (more likely) for worse.

The other aspect of my personality is that I tend to live in fast forward. This is the proverbial blessing and curse, all in one. I feel the pain and grief of things incredibly deeply and quickly and it consumes me; but I also move through it quickly and bounce back. I think it is a coping mechanism from when I was smaller and things went to hell. But if you decide to friend me in the real world, you'll find that we'll either become close or realize we aren't going to be friends quite quickly because I, myself, become consuming. We'll start talking about all sorts of things and before you know it, you'll begin asking "how could we have become such good friends so quickly?" It's because that is how I work and that is all I know. My whole life I've had people, upon first meeting me, say "I can't believe I'm telling you this."

It's an interesting way to live, I suppose. I am very briefly in the moment and, as on Sunday, I'll think to myself "so this is what it feels like." I'll try to hang onto the sensation and the emotion so that I can burn it into my memory because I know my subconscious is already working to move past it. On Monday I was an utter wreck, crying at work and in the car and when I went to bed. The next day, whilst I had the puffy eyes and clogged feeling of having wept, I was perfectly capable of functioning and going about the things that had to be done. I felt the emotions, the sadness, the grief, but it wasn't consuming me like the wildfire it had been. I'll never forget how I felt when J and I realized it was over, but I'll never be able to describe it with the poetic language that the great authors do because I was unable to savor it.

You can see these things about me if you stroll through my archives. One moment I'm stressing out every day because I don't know if I've gotten a job. All of a sudden I'm bitching about the job and drawing pictures. Or I'm scared shitless about an impending answer to what is going on with my health, the next I'm laughing and joking about something inconsequential. These past few days I've been writing about my breakup, the breakup, and just now, walking home from the store I thought about writing about how three cars in a row all had one headlight out.

It isn't that I'm racing to get past my feelings for J. Those will be with me for the rest of my life. But I want to get past the bad and get to the next place, where things are good because we are friends and happy because we don't have the weight and burden of the responsibility that comes with being in a romantic relationship. I think J really felt he had to take care of me and watch out for me because of the stupid shit I do, like get drunk in public or make an ass out of myself or stay up late or eat like a child. And I felt like I had to take care of and watch over him as well. I'm not going to say why because for one, I recently found out that he sometimes reads this and for two, the same reason I never say anything too personal; it may have happened with me but it is personal to him and it is not for me to lay him bare for all the world to see. When it is between me and J, it is more his business than mine. It is only right that way. And I love and respect him too much to ever do such a thing.

It isn't that black and white of course. It took years for me to come to terms with one of my illnesses, probably in part due to the type of illness. And I will most likely still have my moments with the MS. And I certainly did not just start having these feelings about J. K can attest to that because she's the one person I really spoke to in real time. She is also the only person who never asked, when I said it was over, "are you sure?" because she knew, because she'd been there. If I were lazy or didn't know her better, I would say it was because she's been here. But she hasn't because her situation was different, necessarily. And she's known me for nearly four years. She is also the only person I did not have to tell "he's a good guy, don't hate him" when we first separated, because she knew. She knew how much I love him and admire him and she knew that it was not some unforgivable thing that had happened.

Because K and I became friends without any external force. What do I mean by that? Firefly is my best friend in DE and we first met when I dated a guy and ended up semi-homeless. I was 19 and she served as a surrogate mother before we became girlfriend. With K, it was just, well, we were friends. She was going through something, but it was the end of it, not the beginning. So K knows me and she is safe and I can trust her. She can attest to everything I've said because she's been along for the ride. Thank god for that. I don't know how I could deal with it if not for her. Because she knows that I've been unhappy for a long time. She knows that I don't just run hot and cold but that I do, actually, honestly, have feelings and that I sit with them for ages. It's just the burning that takes hold of me momentarily and then passes.

The best part about this aspect of me is that I get through the intensive pain quickly. The worst is that I don't get to hold on to bliss for long and I never get excited about anything. Because getting excited ruins it and puts it in peril. I think I've said it before, that the last time I got excited about something was 14 years ago when I went to try and get my license. I failed. Since then, I could never get excited about anything about because it would fall through. Going to England? Couldn't be excited till I got there. Traveling anywhere? Not till I get there. The prospect of a new job or promotion? Not till I get the word from human resources. Even a good weekend that is promised? Not until it begins.

But I'll take it. I have to as I have no choice. And if it will protect me and help me continue putting one foot in front of the other as I continue to grieve for what I've lost, for what I've caused, I'll fucking take it.

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Mathematics of a Marriage

J and I got married for three primary reasons.
  1. Love
  2. He felt bad thinking that people would disrespect me and give me a hard time if I always referred to "my boyfriend."
  3. To make it more difficult to break up. Fuck you, now you have to do paperwork.
The paperwork is a fucking bitch.  Writing out my debt, creditors, etc, wasn't too bad as I have that information all on my bank's website for bill pay reasons. But the fucking 'assets'? We don't really have any. We have two cars, and that's fine (his is worth a grand more than mine even though mine has over 100,000 fewer miles). But the bullshit about furniture and appliances? I was able to think of maybe six items that we actually purchased together rather than saved from the dumpster. It's pathetic. And they make you list your debt twice, just to fuck with you I guess.

And I'll most likely do his share of it. Not because he isn't fully capable and competent but because he has never liked forms and they make him freeze up and isn't it enough that I'm the driving force behind this decision? And because I, ridiculously and masochistically, insist upon taking 100% ownership of any and all failures in my life, regardless of whether or not more parties were involved. And what is a divorce if not a failed marriage? I'm not invalidating his feelings or anything like that, I just always feel fully responsible for the bad and only a party to the good.

Certain forms require a notary. All of them must be turned in in triplicate. There is a fairly hefty filing fee. I'm just lucky that we can bypass the expense of a lawyer because these days, everything is available on the internet. We'll both have to attend the final hearing.

I'm glad I just jumped into the whole process of it all. I did it because I wanted that quick pull of a band-aid not realizing that was an impossibility. Now I know that there is going to be a lot of work involved and that I'll have to gather data and check and double check. The laborious process of documenting the past four years distracts me from the emotions of those years. I get frustrated and annoyed and tired, yes, but it is due to the paperwork, the numbers, the lists, etc, not the love that was there, the fights that occurred, or the sorrow that is leaving it all behind.

Monday, October 3, 2011

An Open Letter to J

The only things I can think to say are "I'm sorry" and "thank you." You have been the most influential person in my life and I meant it when I told you that I'm a better person because of you.

I miss who we were because we aren't those people any more. For better or for worse, we've both changed a great deal over the last few years and the match just unmatched. I do love you. I always will love you. But I truly believe that if we didn't come to this realization now, we'd end up one of those miserable, sexless couples who gripe about one another so much that people ask "then why are you still together?" I think we would eventually stop liking one another. And I don't want either of us to give up on life this early.

You will find someone who has the qualities that you liked in me. You'll find someone who is genuinely nice and kind to you, someone who makes you laugh and who you think is cute. Steer clear of the crazies, though, OK? Because if there is one thing we can probably agree on it is that I'm bat shit insane at moments and that is a lot to deal with just for me, let alone another person who has to just live through it with me. A nice, responsible, mature girl, one who doesn't have a reckless, self-destructive side maybe. Or whatever you, whoever you want. I'm not the one to tell you.

Give yourself a break once in awhile, OK? You really are an extraordinary guy with so much intelligence and talent. It's time you stopped buying the bullshit you always sell yourself because you deserve so much better. I've been telling you that for seven years. I'm not suggesting you start daily affirmation or that you start acting like an arrogant ass hat; but maybe once in awhile just realize that you aren't a terrible guy. Because you aren't.

And I'm so sorry for everything, things that were my fault, things that were not. I'm sorry that this had to become bad and that it had to end. I'm sorry that everyone thinks that you left me because of the MS and that I have to tell them to calm the fuck down. I'm sorry for all those times I ate in the bed, for sleeping with so many stuffed animals. I'm sorry that you are allergic to the pig.

I'm sorry. I love you. I thank you.

Aftermath

None of this makes sense to me. I don't understand how these cliches can hurt so bad. I don't understand why I'm weeping on my way home from work when not only have we been separated for two months (2 1/2) but I'm the one who initiated it. And I don't understand why I feel as guilty as I do.

This wasn't supposed to happen to me and J - that's a cliche that I now understand. I think that's why I've been such a basket case since we spoke yesterday, because I'm mourning our relationship, our younger selves.

And I feel so fucking guilty, so guilty you'd think I'd cheated on him or something, which I never did and would never do. I just think about him and how worried I am. Is he going to take care of himself? Does he understand that there are other people out there who will be nice to him, that it wasn't just some special quality of mine? Is he going to be OK? I feel this huge weight of responsibility around my neck because I don't know the answers and I really just want him to be OK.

I looked into it, how to go through the dissolution process. I emailed him this morning to tell him I'd figured it out but that I couldn't do it right away, that I'm too emotionally fragile just now. But all day I've been thinking about whether or not I should just take care of it, rip it off like a band-aid. Would he understand that? It isn't that I can't wait to be divorced; it's just that I can't stand the limbo and the looming inevitability.

How many more times is my heart going to break?

Sunday, October 2, 2011

An Ending

So this is what it feels like to officially end things. J and I got together today so he could get a few things. We went to lunch. We went back to my place. He asked "so where are we?" I've been avoiding it but I finally just told him that we aren't going to work out.

We both knew it; that didn't make it any easier for either one of us.

We cried and talked. We love each other and we want what is best. But we also know it wasn't going to be with one another. How can that be? How can we love each other but not be in a good marriage?

Because we just aren't right.

And I'll never regret it. I've been with him for seven years and some of it was bad and some of it was great. but I'll never look back on any of it with regret. I'm truly a better person because of him.

I told my mother. She asked me if I'd been able to sleep yet. I told her no, and I don't think I will be for some time.
Last weekend featured 'unspeakable' things. I ended up hung to the over like a mother fucker and basically just laid on my couch for hours and hours on Sunday. I did new things that I'll never do again, had a great time, and just overindulged.

This weekend? Went home with a pair of swingers.

OK, so it wasn't at all my fault.