Poof

Breaking the Camel's Back

It's always fun to find new levels of pain that our bodies will dredge up when we find that we are, in fact, more stressed than we've ever been. Nice to know I have something to look forward to and that I can never say "well, at least it can't get worse." The usual insomnia and hysterical crying jags are par for the course (though the frequency of said crying jags has increased) but the tensing up of neck muscles as soon as I hit a road near my office and the clenching of my jaw throughout the day is not. Nor is the acid reflux I developed for a few days. That's what acid reflux is? What a bitch I am for thinking it couldn't be that bad. It's like with allergies; I used to think allergies just meant you were a pussy and then I realized that no, that's not what it is. And I didn't even develop any myself. But reflux, oy vey. And it just seems counter-intuitive to me that when it happens I need to eat. I feel like I'm about to throw up any moment and I'm supposed to put food on it? Ooph.

So yes, stress. Work has had me bent over for so long now that my knees are locked in place. Just the constant demands on my time from people who like to tell me how busy they are all the time. Whenever people say "we've just been too busy" I want to punch them in the throat because what the fuck? I'm busy too, partly because these assholes are clueless and disorganized and are just plain assholes. But my manager appears to have spoken with someone because all of a sudden the frequent requests/demands have stopped. I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop however, waiting for the head of the division that has been the noose around my neck to pull back on the rope. My friend tells me not to worry unless or until something comes up but I find that difficult a lot of the time because I despise the unknown. So my neck tenses up and my body refuses to relax enough to sleep.

Medical Madness

Saw my neurologist on Friday. We went through the usual exam and he said I was fine and he had no worries. He's leaving for Yale in December and I'll see one of his colleagues, all of whom he says are nice people. "I don't need them to be nice, " I said, "I just need them to be good." His response was "well, you aren't what I'd call a difficult patient." Lovely compliment.

But I'm glad that he doesn't foresee me having any issues. Still, I have a follow up MRI on September 7, when we'll see if I have any new inflammation (fingers crossed). And he prescribed me an anti anxiety medication at my request, because work is so stressful. Maybe it is a placebo effect or maybe it is already working but suffice it to say, it is my new best friend.

Respite

Upstairs Kid and I went shooting on Saturday. I did really poorly at first. My stance was off, I wasn't using the proper part of my finger to shoot, and I wasn't sure which eye to use. I eventually settled on the left, UK corrected how I was holding my arms and reminded me to use the flesh of my finger pad only. I improved greatly. And I had a great time. As we left the range, we saw a small plane flying low. I got it into my head that there might be an airshow and said "do you want to have an adventure?" UK was all for it so we did a U Turn and found the Fairfield airport, one of those small ones for private planes. We stumbled upon a historic airplane museum which was tiny and a bit sad but super fun because I got to sit in these little war replica planes an jeeps and such. We also got to see sky divers come in, those who took off at the other end of the hanger. Total fun.


From there we decided to cap the day with lunch and he suggested Rusty Bucket and swore he knew where it was. He sort of did but he'd gone there by bike so we got a bit turned around before finding it. As soon as we arrived I received a text from a number I didn't recognize. "I was thinking about you and hope you are doing OK. Take it for what it is ... take care." I didn't need Columbo or Sherlock to help me figure out that it was most likely Stalker. I forwarded it to Hunter so he could look up the number and yep, Stalker indeed. I received a second, garbled text about an hour later. "My dog and I didn't expect to get a reply but we wish you would". At least, I think that is what it said but it was really fucked up because he was drunk and/or high. Lovely. Fortunately, that was the end of it and I haven't heard from him since and when I returned to work on Monday, I didn't look at him. He did email me a forward to see if an issue that was closed had really been taken care of and I simply replied "no. For more detail please see the telecom worker involved." No wiggle room there. If he approaches me again Hunter said he'd call him and see what his problem is. Friends in high places.

Emotional

So Friday was a good medical appointment and, for the most part, a great Saturday. I stayed at UK's place that night because we went out drinking so I crashed on his floor. Got up at 7:30 a.m. and went to drive home but hit a fucking curb fucking up my rim. The tow truck guy was nice and even researched my preferred shop. Dropped car off, went back to UK's place to watch a couple episodes of "Deadliest Warrior"*, and eventually got the call that they put a spare on and would call me when they had the rim. Went home and crashed.

And then.... J called me on Sunday and told me that he wanted to let me know that he felt bad about not responding to my emails. He knows it's over and that I don't want to be his wife but he still loves me and so when I email him, it consumes him. I didn't know. We had an emotional conversation. In the end, I told him I'd stop emailing until he was ready and he reached out. It was a terrible conversation but a funny one because he always makes me laugh. He said goodbye by saying "well, it's been good crying with you but I think I should go." We talked about how he is really angry at me but really sad and can't help but love me. We talked about how he's so full of hate and anger and I just wish he could use it for good for once (it's true, he's an angry guy) and he said he's tried that but it doesn't work. I told him that whenever he calls I'm afraid he's going to yell at me and he said he thinks that's what I want because it will make me feel less guilty. "No, J, that isn't what I want. I'm terrified when you yell. And nothing will make me feel less guilty."

There were a few jokes about the pig, about how I signed papers giving him custody but that I have to pay for his maintenance and medical care. J also needs me to watch him from now until the pig dies. But still, Johan is no longer mine. The pig always distracts us from crying for a bit.

But yeah, tomorrow is D day. I have directions. I have my outfit planned (professional to show that I'm treating the occasion with respect). I have anti anxiety medication.

I have no idea how I'm going to hold my shit together.

The end

As you can see, I'm a bit scattered. I've been working on this post for awhile and I just can't write with any sense of cohesive narrative. I'm hoping the new meds help. Or maybe I'll go back to drawing pictures. Who knows? Who cares?

Sundae

 God I'm Dumb
As anyone who knows me knows, and anyone who has read my blog has learned, I am almost always riddled with bruises and at least one skinned knee. I used to think it was just a matter of moving too fast and not paying attention, of being preternaturally clumsy. But I've realized that much of it has to do with something much more stupid. Sure,  I take the occasional tumble, but who doesn't? And OK, I did once trip over my own feet after hanging up the phone (this was back in the day when I lived with my family and we had the old school attached to the wall phone). I did once fall for no good reason whilst walking with J. But, after falling three times in one night the other day, I took a look around and realized that I've made my home into a fucking obstacle course. I really need to paste a note to my door saying "if I die and it looks like there was a struggle, do not automatically assume I was murdered" because my home is a disaster and it's almost as though I have set it up on purpose, my own personal gauntlet. Of course I fucking trip and fall all the time. I have all sorts of shit in the middle of my rooms and in the dark, I have no chance of making it to the lamp or my bed without stepping on something or tripping over something. I'm lucky I haven't broken my neck yet.

I really need to clean this place up. I am, I am certain, the stupidest girl on the planet. "Hmm, I think I'll put this box right here, two steps from my doorway so that I can trip over it." "I've just gotten home from a business trip and so I think I should put my suitcase immediately in front of my front door so that I'll know where it is and, if I get home late and in the dark, I can take a nice head dive into the carpet. Perfect!"

Fire! 

Upstairs Kid and I went to the gun range on Saturday. It took us about 2 hours to get there because some asshole stole my GPS and so we were going by directions he copied from google and we just somehow got lost. We had fun and laughed a lot but it was damned annoying; more so when we got lost on the way back. But we got to the range and he picked up his pistol, his Bonnie to my Clyde, and I did my best shooting to date. I'm still nowhere near a good shot but I've gotten more familiar with my Beretta and I have a better understanding of how to hold it in order to improve my accuracy. It drives my mother nuts that I own a weapon and that I go shooting but it's all purely recreational for me. I do not own my gun for self defense purposes; as UK pointed out, if you have it for self defense, you must reconcile yourself to being able to kill someone. I don't think I have that in me, not even if I'm being attacked. I suppose that speaks poorly of my self preservation skill but I just don't know that I could take a life. So Clyde is never loaded in my home, even now that I've 'earned' my ammo (I bought it when I bought the gun but UK kept it until I passed his test of improving my shooting). It is always safe in my home. It is locked up and the magazines and chamber are always empty.

But lord do I love shooting. I don't really know what it is. I like feeling connected to what I'm doing, which is why I am not a fan of 22s, even though I understand they are good for practice. I like having a tie to something I'm doing. I like building a skill. And I like the power of the weapon. I don't like when the guy in the next lane is firing a 500 revolver that sounds like a cannon and makes me jump and unable to shoot. Even UK had to stop until dude had finished.He told me he felt wind from the guy's revolver and he thinks his head probably shook. It was bizarre and we were happy when he stopped. But thems the breaks.

Travel

Yes, I had a miserable time getting home but I made it. On my flight from Texas to Detroit, there was a woman with a 2 year old and a 2 month old in the seats in front of me. The 2 year old start screaming for the last half hour of the flight. I don't think he was even crying, just screaming to let his mother know he was unhappy. I remember thinking "why do kids have such high pitched screams?" The weirdest thing is that that 2 month old only cried for a bit, having been woken up by his big brother. When the plane landed, the mother apologized to everyone because you know, no one wants to be "that" person with the screaming child. I told her "my brother has a 3 and a half year old and 6 month old. He just traveled home for a visit from Abu Dhabi and I don't know how he and his wife do it. Also, how did your infant not know that when his big brother started, he was supposed to join in for some tag team yelling?"

I actually spoke with Teacher on Saturday because he is in Arizona and it was his birthday. I told him how I don't know how he and the wife do it, the 19 hour travel days with two kids, car seats, and a stroller. Yes, I fell apart and had to have Hunter help me be an adult but at least I didn't have anyone else to worry about and I didn't have the cumbersome luggage that parents do. Screaming children on a flight are a nightmare and I resent them totally but I also know that it is worse for the parent because they have to deal with it as well and they have the guilt and worry about what other passengers are thinking. I also know that children don't have the same coping skills as adults and so they don't necessarily understand that the discomfort is going to end. I've come a long way from when I was a teenager and just despised children and looked at parents of the screamy with disdain. Because honestly? When the 2 year old was screaming I got so upset that I wanted to start screaming myself.

Work...of course

I wrote to my Viking again, finally. I haven't written in ages and I like to think it is because I've been busy. Really, I have no excuse. But I finally wrote to her again and I realized, yet again, that I really seem to only work these days. Yes, I have Broad Summit once a month and I am on a more regular schedule for shooting with UK, but my god I've become a dull person! It's just that I really like what I do, I have a ton that I need to take care of, and honestly, I'd rather work than think about going to the courthouse on August 29th to end my marriage. I never thought I'd be the type of person, be the type of adult, who threw themselves into work to avoid difficult personal things. Ending my marriage with J is the right thing to do. I know that. We've now been separated for over a year and so I should be able to move on. But it's hard. I know many people don't understand how I can still have such guilt but, as I tell them, you don't know until you've been through it. I won't bore you again with how I feel about J or about my feelings on the matter. I will simply say, instead, that, even after all this time, I'm still not OK about it. He's found a job finally. He told me because he didn't want me to find out when we were in court, like I'm a stranger. I was so happy to hear it because he's been looking for years and he's wanted to get out of academia. He's going to look for a new partner and now he has a job. He's moving on. I'm so happy for him. And here I wanted to be in control to make sure he'd be OK and he's doing it all on his own. The hubris of humans.

I need to let go. I know that. I think people might say that I need to forgive myself for what happened. Even J has said to me in the past that it wasn't all my fault. I just somehow need to figure out how that is true.Because right now, right now, I feel like shit.

One More Step

Yes, somehow I still have internet. Fingers crossed it lasts.

I'm pretty much moved in, just a few more things to unpack and put away, but things are liveable. I like my new place, like the space and the age (16 years as opposed to 60+ which is what I'm used to), I have a dishwasher and central air. The parking sucks but that's fine. I don't know anybody here and that is equally fine; I think I like the anonymity.

It was a stressful few days and today was surprisingly emotional. J and I met at my office to sign the dissolution paperwork in the presence of a notary. We were emotional and then we just sat and chatted for a bit. "I just want to sit here for six hours and bullshit with you" he said. We made one another laugh a lot, often to stem tears. I then drove him to my new place to show him around. Before we left he told me he is going to start trying to meet new women. I was overjoyed and told him that I hoped he'd meet someone, that someone would be nice to him and would love him, that I really hope he ends up in a happy relationship. He asked me "don't you want to be in a relationship?" I answered, honestly, that I hope to avoid that in my future. "I can handle being hurt, that's fine. But I don't think I can handle hurting someone else again."

I brought him back to the office and got out of my car to hug him. We held on for a long time and I started crying, sobbing. He rubbed my back and said "it's OK, honey, it's OK." I pulled away and told him that I'd finally started referring to him as my ex-husband and that he'd have to start calling me his ex-wife. We hugged again and we both cried. I told him I'd always be here for him should he ever need me and he assured me of the same. Finally, we parted and I told him I had to go before someone from my office walked out and found me having a life altering moment in the parking lot. I started weeping as I walked to my car and it took me a minute to collect myself before I was able to drive away.

I wasn't expecting this. I think we were both relieved that there was no hate or animosity. No, this divorce isn't contentious, but it is incredibly sad and heartbreaking and it just continues on and on. I don't think J realizes that we'll have to go one last time, together, to make things official. But then, that is one of the reasons we married in the first place, after all, to make it more difficult to separate. We are good when we try, J and I.

I'll always love him and I think he'll always love me.

In Which I've Been Listening to Gotye On Repeat...

and don't care about my audience.

I haven't heard from J since March 24, the last time he responded to an email, the one in which he said he couldn't accept half our tax return. He can't face me, talk to me, deal with me, handle me. He can't respond.

I understand it, I think. No, no I don't because I'm not him and I don't know his feelings. I assume it's because he's hurting and it's too painful. Or maybe he's angry? The truth is, I don't know why he can't interact with me but I know it's because I've left him for good. I have to hope that he's OK based on the fact that I emailed him after the 24th of March to let him know I transferred money into our joint account for the Verizon bill and that money has been withdrawn. I cling to that and am somewhat reconciled that I'll have a once monthly reminder that he is OK as I'll email him each month with the same subject line "I've transferred money into the joint account for the Verizon bill" and I'll monitor said account to see that it has been withdrawn.

I'm angry with myself and, I don't know, the universe maybe, that whilst I know I forfeited any right to hurt and upset when I made the final decision, I still feel so torn up inside. I know what my role in this is and yet I can't help but be incredibly sad and angry about it. I'm not angry at J, not at all. I'm just angry. I go about my day and deal with things, all things, in my life, but I have this ghost or shadow hanging over me all the time. This desperate feeling because all I have left of J is silence. It's a constant reminder of the hurt I've caused him.

I don't think he wants me to feel like this. Again, I obviously don't know what he wants or what he feels, but I have known him for nearly eight years and he's neither cruel nor malicious. So I don't think he'd clap and be happy to know that the wife that kicked him out, the wife that said "divorce" feels... feels what exactly? Sad. Devastated. Worried. Wrecked. Terrified. Guilty. So, so guilty. I don't think that would make him feel good at all. I don't for a moment think that his silence is a way of getting back at me. But I suppose, if it is, I'd have to say well done.

Every so often it deluges me, just as MS used to. I remember breaking down out of nowhere and wondering "when am I going to get used to this inevitable thing that has entered my life? When am I going to stop freaking out? Stop crying about it? When will it just be a part of me that I can deal with and not think about constantly?" That's how I feel about J and our break up. I remember the relief I felt when I finally told him that it was just over, relief because I was finally honest and we could start moving on without clinging to something that was no longer there, the spider webs where a foundation once stood.

It's "funny" because I used to tell him that if we ever split up I could never be his friend as we were never friends to begin with. No, we actually dated and then were boyfriend and girlfriend before husband and wife. Now I'm facing that reality from the other side. I can't imagine or comprehend a life where I don't know him, don't talk to him, don't have an idea of what is going on in his life. It isn't even about wanting to take care of him anymore. I just like the guy and I want to know what he is up to.

And I completely understand and appreciate why I don't get that and why I have no right to it. I understand that, just as I understand that I have no right to feel sorry for myself as this was MY decision, but that doesn't take away the pain that I feel and it doesn't help me shutter my emotions. It still hurts, very deeply and almost continuously. I don't talk about it with my friends or family because I feel ashamed and selfish to admit to these feelings when, again, it's my doing. I don't even really allow myself to think about it too often because it just makes me angry at myself for being weak, selfish, childish, and awful. Make your bed and lie in it without bitching about what you've created.

But it's there, he's there, every moment of my life.

Anniversary

Dear J,

Five years ago we married in the basement of the Cecil County Court House. It was Good Friday then as it is now and you proposed the year before on Easter Sunday. We always thought that was funny, or at least I did, our getting engaged and marrying on religious holidays when we are both atheists.

I'm so sorry things did not work out. I know I'm young and have years ahead of me but I think 31 is old enough to truly have regrets. I don't regret a minute with you. I don't regret falling in love with you or spending those years with you. They were and are some of the most important years of my life. Even though it has ended, our romance and marriage, I still think/know/understand that you have been one of the biggest influences in my life, in the shaping of who I am, and I'll never forget that.

What I regret is that we grew apart and I fell out of love with you. You truly are one of the best people I have ever met, one of the best I'll ever meet. You have done more for me than anyone, simply by being, and I'm so thankful that I've known you and you thought me worthy of your love and friendship.

I continue to worry about you and continue to wish that I had a 24/7 webcam into your life so that I can know what is going on. I want the power to control things so that I can direct your life in such a way that you are happy, healthy, and well. I can't have that, obviously, so I just have to let it go.

But I will always love you, I truly will. You sincerely are the best person I've ever met in my life and I'm so sorry for the hurt that I've caused you. If I could, I would go back and never meet you, not because of me but because of you, because I've caused you pain. The good you've done for me is not worth having hurt you and I hope you will one day understand and know that I'm honestly, sincerely, and truly sorry.

I love you and I wish you well. You deserve so much and I hope you allow yourself to be open to it.

Love,

Cat

You're Going To Put Your Eye Out

Clap On, Clap Off
The weather in Columbus, save for that little Tornado warning, has turned quite nice lately. OK, not nice exactly, as it is a bit warmer than I'd like, but nice enough. So yesterday I decided to put on my sneakers and try running outdoors again since I've canceled my gym membership. It was quite nice but I was out of practice, so much so that I did something really obnoxious. There I was, jogging along with my iPod in and doing circuits around the neighborhood on the sidewalk, when two girls were suddenly approaching me. They were walking two abreast but they saw me so I figured they'd move to single file for a moment. Only they didn't. Actually, one of them turned around and started walking backwards, continuing to talk to her friend. Did I yell "to the right" or "to the left", whichever it might have been? No. Did I run around the girl, going into the sopping wet grass to avoid her? No.

I clapped.

I don't know what came over me but I clapped loud and obnoxiously to let her know I was approaching and to get her to move. I was a bit indignant about it at first, you know, "what the fuck, bitch? You looked at me and saw me coming but didn't think you should move?" But then I just felt like a complete ass and hoped I'd see them on my next lap to apologize. I didn't, as it happened, but I did convince myself that it wasn't unforgivable. After all, if you are going to be obnoxious and not get out of the way of a runner that you see coming at you, than I am allowed to treat you like an idiot by clapping to get you to move. Your move strange girl.

Taxi!

It's that time again! Tax season. I've had my W2 for ages and I asked J for his a couple of times but he hadn't gotten it. I think the last time I saw him was two weeks ago and I brought it up then. He told me he didn't assume that we'd file together since we are separated and I told him that filing jointly would bring the best return but that I would defer to him and just send me his W2 if he wanted to do so. Well, he never did so I emailed him the other day asking how he wanted to file, not that I wanted to press him on the matter, but we are getting close to the deadline. He said he was going to file his own and I asked how, as married but filing separately or as legally separated. "Whatever the H&R Block Guy says" was his reply. Well, today he found out that it was in his best bet to file jointly so he sent me his W2. I could have screamed but didn't. I simply replied that I knew that was the answer but didn't want to push the issue. But really? I did our taxes last year and a colleague at work did them the two previous years and filing jointly has always been the best bet. And, get this, I can learn!

I didn't take it personally, however. I'm pretty sure he forgot that I'd told him jointly was the way to go. But whatever. I didn't plan on doing this tonight but I decided to restart my filing as a married couple and saw my return go down. I then created a new account to see what J would face if he filed separated. I found that he would owe over $200 federally with a $79 state return and so I emailed to let him know that tax guy and I were right, he benefits by filing jointly. He asked if that meant I wanted to file separately so that I wouldn't be dragged down by him and I said of course not. He then said he didn't want to cost me any more money than he already has, which was a bit heartbreaking and maddening. It isn't as though I haven't cost him money. When we were living together, our finances were almost entirely joint. I went to the ER a few times, as well as Urgent Care once, and had to see numerous specialists. We didn't have a flexible spending account so we had to use credit cards. I didn't ensure that the money to pay my monthly payment only came from "my" funds. So it just makes sense to file jointly to keep him from owing.

A pleasant surprise is that I don't feel inclined to do this out of charity; it's simply the right thing to do. But that is something I didn't think about with this whole separation-eventual-divorce thing, tax discussions. When I asked about how he would file when he was going to do it on his own, I asked if he was going to file as married but filing separately or as legally separated. There has been no official documentation to say we are formally separated, but I don't know if that filing status would cause him problems with health benefits. He is still my husband and we do still have a joint checking account (with about $6 in it) so in my mind, he is still my husband. Thus, he can be covered under my benefits. And until he gets a job that has decent health coverage, or until we are officially divorced, I'd like to keep him covered. I suppose that can be seen as charitable and worrying about him but again, it just seems to be the right thing to do because he has crap coverage and some serious medical problems. It just seems like what you should do.

I suppose this is what it's like to be a great big grown up. It's difficult and practical and responsible. Sure, there is a lot of fun to be had as an adult, what with all the things you can legally do, but it is also pretty shit in some ways. Parents, teachers, and authoritarians like to say "it's fun until someone gets hurt" to chastise children. What they don't tell you is that it never stops. What's worse is that it can stop being fun even if no one is hurt. Lousy adulthood.

I like to think this is why I still eat so much candy - my own little act of defiance.

Back Bone

I hate that I don't feel for him what he feels for me. I texted him two nights ago saying that we are both broke so did he want to try living together when our leases were up. He, understandably, felt that this was a conversation we needed to have in person. We couldn't yesterday because I was drained and tired after work (my fatigue is back as I learned this afternoon), so I went today.

He told me that he'd hoped I would tell him that I wanted him to come home because he loves me and is in love with me. He could never live with me as a roommate because he couldn't have me that near without our being together.

I told him that nothing had changed. I love him but I don't have more feelings for him. I even told him that I'd considered just faking it for the rest of my life. Because I love him and want him to be taken care of and don't trust that he always takes good care of himself. That sounds so awful and I put it badly and knew it right away. I don't pity him. I just want him to be happy. In that brief moment I realized how ludicrous it was to think he could be happy living a lie.

I cried, but only a little. I don't know if he was only angry or sad and hurt as well but assume all three were present. I didn't apologize this time. For the first time in forever, I realize that I'm done apologizing for what I feel and for what I don't. Even though I wish I did love him like I used to.

Why is it so hard to let go when you are the one no longer in love?

The important thing, the one that makes all the difference, is that I understand finally that it is truly over because it has to be. As much as it kills me that I hurt J, and as much as I want to be in control and take care of him and make sure he is OK, I know this is the right thing to do. Because he deserves more than I have to offer. I'm a fine individual and I don't think I'm some unworthy being, but he deserves to have a woman who will love him and be there for him always. Not the 23 year old girl who grew into a totally different 31 year old woman. He deserves more than my odd offer to fake it.

Because he is a great man. He is intelligent and attractive and funny as fuck. I wish him the best and want the world for him and so I know that as unhappy as I would be if we stayed married, he would not fair much better.

So I'll take his anger if he gives it. I'll take any vitriol if he feels it. And I will always wish to have some sort of hidden camera, some magical power to direct things to ensure he is OK but I will also understand and accept that I am a control freak and that this wouldn't help either one of us. Because I love him. I always will. I have never met a better person than the man who didn't remember that I sat across the radiator from him in British Literature I until I mentioned I'd been faking a southern accent, the man I came across again because he scared me when he sat behind me in Early Modern Intellectual Thought, the man who asked for my number at Brew Ha Ha when he was twenty minutes late to work .

He is the best person I've ever met and he is the one who has most influenced me and I will, always, be grateful, that I had so many years with him, and I will always hope that he finds the happiness that he so greatly deserves.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

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.