Just kidding.
Just writing this made me burst out laughing so hard.
I'm not up to much. Parenting. Cooking. Instgramming. If anyone reads this and wants to find me on Instagram, I am JEMVT. Get at it. Let's be virtual pals. I love Instagram though. I've made some really nice, interesting virtual friends. We share recipes, talk about makeup, banter, bitch, and gossip together. It's strange to meet people based purely on particular shared interests. I follow a few moms, an author, two artists, and many home and professional cooks. And I enjoy them all very much. It seems like we enjoy each other very much. We're an eclectic group- all ages, races, ethnicities- united by the almighty Iphone and the burning desire to share photos of our beautifully poached eggs. Good times.
I am so tired of feeling sad. Weekends can be achingly hard, and lonely. I want to have a day of rest, a nesting day, with someone. Know what I mean? Cook, cuddle, do fun things with Gumball. Together. I cherish our time together, just me and Gumball, but I do wish our duo was occasionally a trio. Being this profoundly, deeply sad makes parenting especially taxing these days. I refuse to mope around my kid, so I spend 12 hours a day pretending to be upbeat. I also feel guilty for not being upbeat enough, and for all the multitude of other parenting failures I commit on a daily basis, so I overcompensate with more activities, more fun, and more pretending. At baby bedtime, I feel wrung out. Literally jonesing for quiet time on the sofa. I'm thinking wine might help. Or amphetamines? Just kidding. Sort of. Not really.
Another thing that may help, is not dwelling on my sadness. I think this is going to be the last time I write about it, at least for a while. Unless it means that I have nothing to write about, in which case I'll start bitching again. I have a lot to be thankful for: the best friends anyone could ask for, a wonderful but often maddening mom, the sweetest kid, a beautiful home, etc. I am lucky, goddamn it. Lucky. Now I need to be happy.
I need to point out that I am not expecting a relationship to make me happy. I don't put my fragile happiness in another person's fickle arms. I've been married and divorced twice. I know better than to do that. I do think that a relationship would give me the things that I can't give myself. I know the hype. I know another person won't make me happy, and that I need to be happy by myself before I can be happy with another person. But... I can't hug myself, I can't cuddle me, and solo sex is completely unsatisfying. I'm a great partner to myself, but I want someone else to share this with too.
Showing posts with label sad. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sad. Show all posts
Saturday, March 9, 2013
Friday, March 8, 2013
Money Making Proposition
I made twenty cents opening my mail tonight. What's the deal with random coins in donation solicitation letters? I feel compelled to open the letter to retrieve the coin, and then resentful I spent thirty seconds of my life shuffling through a pile of papers that don't matter to me for five cents. March of Dimes may be completely amazing, but my dimes go to Planned Parenthood. And SIECUS.
I'm still lonely, and kind of sad. Not quite as badly as before, at least. I feel like I have a puncture somewhere, so that every time I feel happy, the ebullience slowly leaks away, leaving me deflated. At night, the house seems so quiet, and I delay bedtime bc I don't want to crawl into my cold bed alone. I'm done pining for Mr. Bond, so I'm not wishing for any particular person to be in my bed, but I long for loving arms and gentle words. Specifically Mr. Bond's loving arms, but hey! I am DONE pining for him.
I am trying to move on. If I can't find someone to love me, I would at least like to find someone to send me dirty photos and text messages. And maybe take me out on a date. And write me letters. Best of all, I don't need one person to fill these roles. If love isn't in my future, then I would at least like filthy, sweaty sex.
That is all.
I'm still lonely, and kind of sad. Not quite as badly as before, at least. I feel like I have a puncture somewhere, so that every time I feel happy, the ebullience slowly leaks away, leaving me deflated. At night, the house seems so quiet, and I delay bedtime bc I don't want to crawl into my cold bed alone. I'm done pining for Mr. Bond, so I'm not wishing for any particular person to be in my bed, but I long for loving arms and gentle words. Specifically Mr. Bond's loving arms, but hey! I am DONE pining for him.
I am trying to move on. If I can't find someone to love me, I would at least like to find someone to send me dirty photos and text messages. And maybe take me out on a date. And write me letters. Best of all, I don't need one person to fill these roles. If love isn't in my future, then I would at least like filthy, sweaty sex.
That is all.
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
Dialing it In
I'm still in a funk. Tired of winter, feeling the burden of single parenthood. Tired of the nonstop planning and strategizing that goes into being moderately successful in my day to day life. I don't like to complain about single parenthood, bc I am profoundly grateful for my sweet, loving, generous, weird Gumball every single day. I am also aware of how tremendously privileged I am, to be able to stay home with her, and to enjoy the lifestyle we live. I am lucky, and blessed. Complaining seems like whining, or taking my privilege for granted. But man, I get tired. I wish someone else would plan a dinner, or cook, or run to the store to get something we need, or read a book to Gumball, or just give me an hug. Or tell me that I'm doing a good job. Or let me sleep in. I'm feeling tired, sad, and lonely. Very lonely. I'm also feeling isolated, bc I don't think anyone who hasn't been a single parent knows what single parenthood is actually like. I don't know what co-parenting is like either, or the profound loneliness of feeling unloved and under-appreciated by a partner. But that's not the point, either. I'm not so much comparing myself to others, as simply missing what I don't have.
Someone whose opinion I value greatly, told me today that he thinks I've been feeling sad and defeated since Mr. Bond (a new nickname) broke up with me. It's true. I miss him terribly, and while I've re-started my diet, and lost the 3 pounds I gained back while trying to eat my broken heart away, my heart just isn't there these days. I'm back on one dating site, and have pleased to receive a few messages. But I don't feel engaged, or enthused about dating. I miss Mr. Bond. Worst part is, I sent him a Valentine's Day card, and a week later, a text. He never responded.
So yeah. To recap, I feel sad, lonely, misunderstood, alienated, tired, and still, broken-hearted.
Someone whose opinion I value greatly, told me today that he thinks I've been feeling sad and defeated since Mr. Bond (a new nickname) broke up with me. It's true. I miss him terribly, and while I've re-started my diet, and lost the 3 pounds I gained back while trying to eat my broken heart away, my heart just isn't there these days. I'm back on one dating site, and have pleased to receive a few messages. But I don't feel engaged, or enthused about dating. I miss Mr. Bond. Worst part is, I sent him a Valentine's Day card, and a week later, a text. He never responded.
So yeah. To recap, I feel sad, lonely, misunderstood, alienated, tired, and still, broken-hearted.
Thursday, February 7, 2013
Winter Blues
I'm obsessed with seaweed snacks. Cool, right? Great way to be on my diet, right? WRONG! I like to use them to wrap up and devour little nuggets of avocado. Delicious! Funny enough, little Gumball loves seaweed. Weirdo.
I'm also obsessed with fruit smoothies. Particularly frozen strawberries, frozen blueberries, skim milk... and honey. Lots of honey. Delicious. Gumball doesn't care for this snack so much, as it turns out.
In other news, I have extreme winter-related fatigue. I want to walk outside without my nose freezing and dripping. I want to slip on flip flops and go- no coats, no boots, no preparation at all. I'm tired of negotiating, bribing, and threatening my kid into warm clothing. I'm ready for spring. Not the twelve inches of snow that are expected tomorrow. Ick.
I miss my guy. I haven't heard a peep from him, and my friends have insisted that I give him the space to come back to me, if he wants to. I am listening to them, but dear lord, it is hard. I keep thinking of what I want to say to him. I want to tell him that as much as I understand and respect his reasons for not wanting to be in a relationship, especially since his family responsibilities are quite heavy, and bound to become even more so, that there is never going to be a better time than now. What I mean is, that life never clears up. The burden never gets lighter, you just get used to what you have to carry. You get stronger. Life never stops, and if he wants to be in a relationship, then he needs to figure out how to fit it into his life. And I am right here, caring about him, wanting him, and wanting to see if we could try this together.
The obvious answer to my plea, is that he just doesn't want a relationship with me. Obvious, sparklingly clear.
So I just wait. And stay mute, hoping he'll call or write. Being the best mom I can be, trying to be a good friend too, and feeling like my entire life is made of faded colors and shadows. I miss him, and I miss how he made me feel.
I'm also obsessed with fruit smoothies. Particularly frozen strawberries, frozen blueberries, skim milk... and honey. Lots of honey. Delicious. Gumball doesn't care for this snack so much, as it turns out.
In other news, I have extreme winter-related fatigue. I want to walk outside without my nose freezing and dripping. I want to slip on flip flops and go- no coats, no boots, no preparation at all. I'm tired of negotiating, bribing, and threatening my kid into warm clothing. I'm ready for spring. Not the twelve inches of snow that are expected tomorrow. Ick.
I miss my guy. I haven't heard a peep from him, and my friends have insisted that I give him the space to come back to me, if he wants to. I am listening to them, but dear lord, it is hard. I keep thinking of what I want to say to him. I want to tell him that as much as I understand and respect his reasons for not wanting to be in a relationship, especially since his family responsibilities are quite heavy, and bound to become even more so, that there is never going to be a better time than now. What I mean is, that life never clears up. The burden never gets lighter, you just get used to what you have to carry. You get stronger. Life never stops, and if he wants to be in a relationship, then he needs to figure out how to fit it into his life. And I am right here, caring about him, wanting him, and wanting to see if we could try this together.
The obvious answer to my plea, is that he just doesn't want a relationship with me. Obvious, sparklingly clear.
So I just wait. And stay mute, hoping he'll call or write. Being the best mom I can be, trying to be a good friend too, and feeling like my entire life is made of faded colors and shadows. I miss him, and I miss how he made me feel.
Friday, February 1, 2013
Haiku
Tender budding hopes...
Over. Then I stepped in poop.
Self-pity reigns, hard.
I've never been good at the haiku. Or dating.
He drove three and a half hours in a terrible snowstorm to break up with me in person. He said that his was going to have to spend more time caring for his dad, whose Alzheimer's is rapidly progressing, and that he feels stretched too thin. Too thin to be in a relationship with me.
Then, I negotiated. I told him that I would happily accept less. I would, from him.
Let's just stop. For one second. He broke up with me and I negotiated. Let that shit sink in.
Pathetic.
This guy is so sweet, so tender, and thoughtful. I will truly miss him.
I keep thinking several things. How much I miss him, and how I'm never going to see, or hear from him again. How if he cared for me with the depth and intensity that I cared for him, then he would have tried to make things work. And how much I fucking miss him.
Over. Then I stepped in poop.
Self-pity reigns, hard.
I've never been good at the haiku. Or dating.
He drove three and a half hours in a terrible snowstorm to break up with me in person. He said that his was going to have to spend more time caring for his dad, whose Alzheimer's is rapidly progressing, and that he feels stretched too thin. Too thin to be in a relationship with me.
Then, I negotiated. I told him that I would happily accept less. I would, from him.
Let's just stop. For one second. He broke up with me and I negotiated. Let that shit sink in.
Pathetic.
This guy is so sweet, so tender, and thoughtful. I will truly miss him.
I keep thinking several things. How much I miss him, and how I'm never going to see, or hear from him again. How if he cared for me with the depth and intensity that I cared for him, then he would have tried to make things work. And how much I fucking miss him.
Friday, September 7, 2012
September 2012
I haven't been posting too much for a reason. I linked to this blog from my Instagram account, and then became paranoid about who would see what. Then I remembered: no one cares. I don't mean that in some melodramatic, teenage, hair-tossing sort of way, simply that everyone's lives are so full and busy that my blog doesn't really factor in too much.
Also? I was keeping a secret. This summer I fell in love. And, just like that, I fell out of love.
She is a lovely, kind, and very sweet person. Apparently, I need more than that. There was more to it than that, though. I didn't feel like she cared enough about me to truly get to know me. To ask me questions about me. Instead, she made assumptions and projected them on me. I also didn't feel appreciated. I would go out of my way to cook elaborate dinners, to buy thoughtful gifts, and to do things to please her, and these actions were rarely reciprocated, and even less frequently praised.
She didn't cheat on me, lie to me, or leave me, but things weren't right.
Am I going to be alone forever? I hope not.
Also? I was keeping a secret. This summer I fell in love. And, just like that, I fell out of love.
She is a lovely, kind, and very sweet person. Apparently, I need more than that. There was more to it than that, though. I didn't feel like she cared enough about me to truly get to know me. To ask me questions about me. Instead, she made assumptions and projected them on me. I also didn't feel appreciated. I would go out of my way to cook elaborate dinners, to buy thoughtful gifts, and to do things to please her, and these actions were rarely reciprocated, and even less frequently praised.
She didn't cheat on me, lie to me, or leave me, but things weren't right.
Am I going to be alone forever? I hope not.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Valentine's Day 2012
I gave myself quite a pep talk about today. Instead of reacting to an artificial, consumer-driven "holiday" I wanted to reflect on what happened one year ago today. It was a pivotal moment in my life. I closed on my house in VT one year ago today. Isn't this what everyone does when their so-called Valentine breaks their heart? Buys a house? Ha ha. I should frame this differently. A year ago today I got even more in debt. Whee!
Moving to VT has been bittersweet. I love my new friends. Such an amazing community of friends. I miss my MA friends too, though. I miss being with people who knew me when I had a functional brain, and when I was able to be myself without always worrying about and being attuned to Gumball.
I like to memorialize special events in my life. I'm not very good at remembering dates, however. Makes any sort of memorialization kind of difficult. Let's be fully honest. I can't remember when I got married, either time. I never remember when Easter occurs.
Valentine's Day is such a charged holiday. Despite having been married for (hmmm, thinking, calculating, etc) 8 or 9 years, total, I can't remember having had any spectacular romantic festivities. At age 37, I guess I'm ok with this. When I was in high school, I tried to jump over a mud puddle on one Valentine's Day. I slipped on some ice, and fell, backwards, into the puddle. This exemplifies Valentine's Day for me.
It was hard to not feel even a little bit sorry for myself today, especially when other moms at playgroup were talking about their evening plans. I might have slipped into a funk of sadness this afternoon, when I was home, alone with my Gumball. It's even harder to feel sorry for myself when I know how miserably my former stepsons are doing. While I'm researching fancy, expensive private preschools for Gumball, the boys who called me "Mom" are living in a $40 a night hotel. I make Gumball lamb chops at least once a month, spinach cake muffins, and salmon. She gets probiotics in her milk, Vitamin D occasionally, and flax seed/avocado/fruit mush every morning for breakfast. What do my boys even eat, living in a hotel? This is something to be sad about. My boys lost all their stuff, when my ex lost their home, and then lost the trailer they moved into, and then refused to let them take anything with them. DSS was even called.
I would adopt these boys in one hot second, if I could. I'm not a great mom, but I try my best. I try really hard to always respect Gumball's wants and needs, and to provide her with a safe, healthy environment, where she can grow and develop at her own pace. I might not be the most fun, or the most playful, or the most creative. But I do my best. I really wish I could provide my former stepsons with the love, support, and stability that they desperately need. This breaks my heart. And not because I didn't get a card or flowers or whatever.
Moving to VT has been bittersweet. I love my new friends. Such an amazing community of friends. I miss my MA friends too, though. I miss being with people who knew me when I had a functional brain, and when I was able to be myself without always worrying about and being attuned to Gumball.
I like to memorialize special events in my life. I'm not very good at remembering dates, however. Makes any sort of memorialization kind of difficult. Let's be fully honest. I can't remember when I got married, either time. I never remember when Easter occurs.
Valentine's Day is such a charged holiday. Despite having been married for (hmmm, thinking, calculating, etc) 8 or 9 years, total, I can't remember having had any spectacular romantic festivities. At age 37, I guess I'm ok with this. When I was in high school, I tried to jump over a mud puddle on one Valentine's Day. I slipped on some ice, and fell, backwards, into the puddle. This exemplifies Valentine's Day for me.
It was hard to not feel even a little bit sorry for myself today, especially when other moms at playgroup were talking about their evening plans. I might have slipped into a funk of sadness this afternoon, when I was home, alone with my Gumball. It's even harder to feel sorry for myself when I know how miserably my former stepsons are doing. While I'm researching fancy, expensive private preschools for Gumball, the boys who called me "Mom" are living in a $40 a night hotel. I make Gumball lamb chops at least once a month, spinach cake muffins, and salmon. She gets probiotics in her milk, Vitamin D occasionally, and flax seed/avocado/fruit mush every morning for breakfast. What do my boys even eat, living in a hotel? This is something to be sad about. My boys lost all their stuff, when my ex lost their home, and then lost the trailer they moved into, and then refused to let them take anything with them. DSS was even called.
I would adopt these boys in one hot second, if I could. I'm not a great mom, but I try my best. I try really hard to always respect Gumball's wants and needs, and to provide her with a safe, healthy environment, where she can grow and develop at her own pace. I might not be the most fun, or the most playful, or the most creative. But I do my best. I really wish I could provide my former stepsons with the love, support, and stability that they desperately need. This breaks my heart. And not because I didn't get a card or flowers or whatever.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Fishing
I really hate when people are all vague about things. I always, always want to know. No matter what it is, I want to know. Not knowing is the worst kind of torture. Really.
Anyhow, my mom went to her doctor (without telling me) for shortness of breath (that she didn't tell me about.) They did an x-ray, and found a spot on her lung. She's going for a CAT scan this Friday. I am petrified.
I can only imagine one thing worse than my mom being sick; my baby being sick. I'd take any sickness for either of them, if I could.
In other news? Online dating really sucks, especially when you're 50lbs overweight, 37, honest, and mom to a toddler. I am dating kryptonite.
And Gumball has her first earache. Poor kid.
Anyhow, my mom went to her doctor (without telling me) for shortness of breath (that she didn't tell me about.) They did an x-ray, and found a spot on her lung. She's going for a CAT scan this Friday. I am petrified.
I can only imagine one thing worse than my mom being sick; my baby being sick. I'd take any sickness for either of them, if I could.
In other news? Online dating really sucks, especially when you're 50lbs overweight, 37, honest, and mom to a toddler. I am dating kryptonite.
And Gumball has her first earache. Poor kid.
Monday, January 30, 2012
And Yet Further Bullshit
Sorry for the prolonged absence. I've been busy. Cooking a lot, including this:
BLT Brisket, and this
Buffalo Chicken Cupcakes, and this
Thai Green Papaya Salad, and this
Buttermilk Roast Chicken, and this
Senate Bean Soup.
All successes, all with minor and major changes.
Poor little Gumball has been sick. At first, I thought it was teething. She appears to be getting all four canines right now. Before any molars. Drooling, in pain, miserable. Crying, tantrum-ing, and being a total pill. I've been reading to her for up to 2 hours a day. There are certain books that I pretty much want to burn at this point. Being read to soothes her, so I'm happy to do it for my poor sick chickadee.
Man, I am trying so hard to stay positive. Really hard. I bought a plane ticket to Chicago for my dear friend's baby shower. Yay! Scared, and not totally sure if I'll actually make it, but trying hard. And despite my apparently limitless jealousy, I am so thrilled for my other friend, who is newly pregnant.
If I had written this post yesterday, I would have said how disappointed I am about online dating. I have put myself out there. I've contacted probably 50 people. I read their profiles, find things we have in common, and concoct some sort of comments and questions. I think I've heard back from maybe 6 people. Total. Only 3 were actually interested in exchanging messages with me. The other 3 were writing to say "not interested." I have also received messages from several couples looking for a third (god no), 5 or 6 old old old men, and 2 "holy shit that's young" young men. W. T. F.
Anyhow, that was yesterday. Today, I really don't care anymore. I'm not ready to talk about it (per usual, I'd probably just cry) but I got some very, very bad news today. Not about my health, or Gumball's health, but something so heart sinkingly terrible and terrifying that I feel paralyzed. Scary stuff, this "being an adult" crap.
BLT Brisket, and this
Buffalo Chicken Cupcakes, and this
Thai Green Papaya Salad, and this
Buttermilk Roast Chicken, and this
Senate Bean Soup.
All successes, all with minor and major changes.
Poor little Gumball has been sick. At first, I thought it was teething. She appears to be getting all four canines right now. Before any molars. Drooling, in pain, miserable. Crying, tantrum-ing, and being a total pill. I've been reading to her for up to 2 hours a day. There are certain books that I pretty much want to burn at this point. Being read to soothes her, so I'm happy to do it for my poor sick chickadee.
Man, I am trying so hard to stay positive. Really hard. I bought a plane ticket to Chicago for my dear friend's baby shower. Yay! Scared, and not totally sure if I'll actually make it, but trying hard. And despite my apparently limitless jealousy, I am so thrilled for my other friend, who is newly pregnant.
If I had written this post yesterday, I would have said how disappointed I am about online dating. I have put myself out there. I've contacted probably 50 people. I read their profiles, find things we have in common, and concoct some sort of comments and questions. I think I've heard back from maybe 6 people. Total. Only 3 were actually interested in exchanging messages with me. The other 3 were writing to say "not interested." I have also received messages from several couples looking for a third (god no), 5 or 6 old old old men, and 2 "holy shit that's young" young men. W. T. F.
Anyhow, that was yesterday. Today, I really don't care anymore. I'm not ready to talk about it (per usual, I'd probably just cry) but I got some very, very bad news today. Not about my health, or Gumball's health, but something so heart sinkingly terrible and terrifying that I feel paralyzed. Scary stuff, this "being an adult" crap.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
5 to 10 Percent Rotten
I was really sad today. I feel lonely. I miss my Massachusetts friends, and my friends who are all over. I miss feeling like my "all over" friends are a short plane ride away. From VT, no plane ride is short. I am still so scared to travel with Gumball. She did great when we went to MA, but alone- how will I go to the bathroom? How can I get her to sleep without her fan, blackout shades, and strict evening ritual? What if I need something? What if she needs something?
Anyhow, I really want to go to my friend's baby shower. I want to see her pregnant, and hang out with her and my other girlfriends. I miss them. So much. The logistics of the trip were really overwhelming to me. I was totally on the fence, but still hopeful and genuinely considering it. Then, I found out that I would be the only one bringing a kid. What a drag.
I don't want to go into the details of what made me feel so awful about this. That's the downside of sharing my navel-gazing with my real life friends. I don't want anything I write about to influence my real life relationships. I love my friends, and truly celebrate their successes and happiness. It's also true though; I'm a weak person, and sometimes my jealousy gets the better of me. I am a rotten enough person that occasionally, my friends' lives make me feel bitter, jealous and petty. And today: completely distraught. I pretty much wish all Mother's Days, Valentine's Days, Father's Days, and Sundays would just go away. And date nights, and sleeping in. Don't even get me started on subsequent pregnancies. I am so jealous of all these things that I can't imagine ever having for myself.
Most of the time, maybe 85 to 90% of the time, I am full of genuine happiness for my friends. Life is hard, and when any of my friends achieve something they want, I am really overjoyed for them. I hate the fragments of myself that feel jealousy and bitterness. It is so in conflict with who I am as a person, and who I want to be. Before Gumball was born, I felt this jealousy and bitterness with regards to friends getting pregnant. I tried as hard as I could to keep it in check. And I was pretty good at keeping the bitterness to myself. Most of the time. Now I sometimes feel like the bitterness is overwhelming me.
I want my friends to have every success and happiness in the world. I love them. They deserve it. More than anyone else. I just wonder what is so wrong with me that so much of what I touch turns to complete crap? So, I feel bitter, and then I feel guilty about feeling bitter, and then I beat myself up for not being a good enough person, or a good enough friend. It's a lot of fun.
The idea of being the only person at my friend's baby shower with a kid in tow, is pretty intolerable to me. As intolerable, as missing the shower altogether. I spent the afternoon crying, and feeling sorry for myself. Gumball got about a million rides in her Cozy Coupe, so I could cry in peace, without upsetting her, or scarring her in any way.
So yeah. My point? I have none. I am increasingly getting more and more rotten. I don't like feeling jealous of the people I love.
In other news, tonight was the first night I intentionally skipped Gumball's nightly nursing session. Weaning. I don't want to do it, but it's time. I'll continue to nurse her in the morning for another month or two, but it's ending too. I'm very sad about this. I'll nurse her for 18 months, or so, which was my goal. Gumball has always been a very sweet, considerate nurser. No biting, no nursing strikes, very little pummeling mama in the face with her vicious little fists. Gumball is probably the only child I will nurse, and I am sad that this is coming to an end.
The more I think about it, I might be much more than 5 to 10 percent rotten. Probably closer to 25%. Geez.
Anyhow, I really want to go to my friend's baby shower. I want to see her pregnant, and hang out with her and my other girlfriends. I miss them. So much. The logistics of the trip were really overwhelming to me. I was totally on the fence, but still hopeful and genuinely considering it. Then, I found out that I would be the only one bringing a kid. What a drag.
I don't want to go into the details of what made me feel so awful about this. That's the downside of sharing my navel-gazing with my real life friends. I don't want anything I write about to influence my real life relationships. I love my friends, and truly celebrate their successes and happiness. It's also true though; I'm a weak person, and sometimes my jealousy gets the better of me. I am a rotten enough person that occasionally, my friends' lives make me feel bitter, jealous and petty. And today: completely distraught. I pretty much wish all Mother's Days, Valentine's Days, Father's Days, and Sundays would just go away. And date nights, and sleeping in. Don't even get me started on subsequent pregnancies. I am so jealous of all these things that I can't imagine ever having for myself.
Most of the time, maybe 85 to 90% of the time, I am full of genuine happiness for my friends. Life is hard, and when any of my friends achieve something they want, I am really overjoyed for them. I hate the fragments of myself that feel jealousy and bitterness. It is so in conflict with who I am as a person, and who I want to be. Before Gumball was born, I felt this jealousy and bitterness with regards to friends getting pregnant. I tried as hard as I could to keep it in check. And I was pretty good at keeping the bitterness to myself. Most of the time. Now I sometimes feel like the bitterness is overwhelming me.
I want my friends to have every success and happiness in the world. I love them. They deserve it. More than anyone else. I just wonder what is so wrong with me that so much of what I touch turns to complete crap? So, I feel bitter, and then I feel guilty about feeling bitter, and then I beat myself up for not being a good enough person, or a good enough friend. It's a lot of fun.
The idea of being the only person at my friend's baby shower with a kid in tow, is pretty intolerable to me. As intolerable, as missing the shower altogether. I spent the afternoon crying, and feeling sorry for myself. Gumball got about a million rides in her Cozy Coupe, so I could cry in peace, without upsetting her, or scarring her in any way.
So yeah. My point? I have none. I am increasingly getting more and more rotten. I don't like feeling jealous of the people I love.
In other news, tonight was the first night I intentionally skipped Gumball's nightly nursing session. Weaning. I don't want to do it, but it's time. I'll continue to nurse her in the morning for another month or two, but it's ending too. I'm very sad about this. I'll nurse her for 18 months, or so, which was my goal. Gumball has always been a very sweet, considerate nurser. No biting, no nursing strikes, very little pummeling mama in the face with her vicious little fists. Gumball is probably the only child I will nurse, and I am sad that this is coming to an end.
The more I think about it, I might be much more than 5 to 10 percent rotten. Probably closer to 25%. Geez.
Saturday, December 3, 2011
If You're Happy and You Know It...
I must be on a self-destructive streak. I am eating cheddar bunnies way past the point of serious heartburn. Not to mention that Gumball will kick my ass if they're all gone tomorrow. Baby _really_ loves her crackers these days. She'd cut a bitch for them.
So yeah. Went to MA. Saw my friend, missed her husband. Gumball vomited in the car, and I was so grateful for my mom's help. Other than vomiting, and refusing to sleep more than 30 minutes while in the car, Gumball did great. She slept through the night both nights, and went to sleep for bed and naps without a peep of complaint. The Kidco Peapod is an amazing creation. I wish I had one too, adult sized. I guess that's what tents are. Whatever. I want one. Yeah, and she only had to practice her (extensive) vocabulary once a night. While sleeping, I assume. Nothing like hearing, "kitty. meow. dog. Mia. Dia. Abbey. Nana. Titi. Mama. mum mum. moo. moo. etc" from a sleeping kid. She's so weird.
It was wonderful to see my friend. I missed her. I missed her grandkids, and her kids. It was terrific to see them. I really missed her husband though. I kept thinking of all the things he'd be raising hell about, if he were there. Like the Christmas decorations not being set up yet. He loves that hat-tipping snowman, and the Noel sign.
It felt unsettling to see my old house from the wrong side of the fence. It was as though a part of me could have still been living, in wedded bliss, with Gumball's dad. Going into the house, and seeing how abandoned it felt was heartbreaking. That house deserved more. I deserved more.
The trip was punctuated by constant singing. Nana thinks that singing helps the baby get smarter. I'm pretty sure that hours of "If You're Happy and You Know It" followed by "I've Been Working on the Railroad" followed by "You are my Sunshine" is not doing anything good for Gumball's brain.
It felt so good to be back where I know where to drive, where Mexican food is 10 minutes away, and where I run into people I know at Target. Yup. I miss Massachusetts. I wouldn't have moved home if I hadn't needed to. And being here is so good for Gumball, and for me. I'm just lonely here in VT, that's all. I think I'd be just as lonely in MA. But I'd have more company, probably.
Tonight, when I put Gumball to bed, I said, "Goodnight. Mama loves you, Gumball." When I was shutting the door, she yelled, "Night night, Dia."
So yeah. Went to MA. Saw my friend, missed her husband. Gumball vomited in the car, and I was so grateful for my mom's help. Other than vomiting, and refusing to sleep more than 30 minutes while in the car, Gumball did great. She slept through the night both nights, and went to sleep for bed and naps without a peep of complaint. The Kidco Peapod is an amazing creation. I wish I had one too, adult sized. I guess that's what tents are. Whatever. I want one. Yeah, and she only had to practice her (extensive) vocabulary once a night. While sleeping, I assume. Nothing like hearing, "kitty. meow. dog. Mia. Dia. Abbey. Nana. Titi. Mama. mum mum. moo. moo. etc" from a sleeping kid. She's so weird.
It was wonderful to see my friend. I missed her. I missed her grandkids, and her kids. It was terrific to see them. I really missed her husband though. I kept thinking of all the things he'd be raising hell about, if he were there. Like the Christmas decorations not being set up yet. He loves that hat-tipping snowman, and the Noel sign.
It felt unsettling to see my old house from the wrong side of the fence. It was as though a part of me could have still been living, in wedded bliss, with Gumball's dad. Going into the house, and seeing how abandoned it felt was heartbreaking. That house deserved more. I deserved more.
The trip was punctuated by constant singing. Nana thinks that singing helps the baby get smarter. I'm pretty sure that hours of "If You're Happy and You Know It" followed by "I've Been Working on the Railroad" followed by "You are my Sunshine" is not doing anything good for Gumball's brain.
It felt so good to be back where I know where to drive, where Mexican food is 10 minutes away, and where I run into people I know at Target. Yup. I miss Massachusetts. I wouldn't have moved home if I hadn't needed to. And being here is so good for Gumball, and for me. I'm just lonely here in VT, that's all. I think I'd be just as lonely in MA. But I'd have more company, probably.
Tonight, when I put Gumball to bed, I said, "Goodnight. Mama loves you, Gumball." When I was shutting the door, she yelled, "Night night, Dia."
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Tired of Repeating Myself
I'm having a really hard time these days. I know it's a part of the cycle of grief, and getting better, and all that bullshit, but I'm tired of being sad. I just wish I could forget Gumball's dad. Stop beating myself up for not being a better single parent. Gumball is thriving. She's healthy and happy. She said "teatop" today, for teapot. She's a genius. She'll be happy and successful even if her dad refuses to be in her life.
I joined a dating site, right? Did I mention this before? Yeah. I had been writing three people for a few weeks. Daily. Smart, nice, clever people. And out of the blue, two of them just stopped writing me. It's not a big deal, but I had this little bubble of excitement and hope, and it's gone now.
It's probably too soon for me to date. I still think about Gumball's dad. I still miss him. I'm not filled with anxiety or sharp grief anymore, but I am lonely. I'm alone, or alone with Gumball most of the day, every day. I just want to cuddle up with someone to watch TV. Or get a hug at the end of the day. I have all these lovely, fun, cool, vibrant new mom friends, and I'm so fucked up and sad that I can barely interact some days. They're pretty forgiving people, but damn, I'm really not the best company these days.
I'm going to Massachusetts soon, to see my friend whose husband died. When we get back, I'm going to start cutting back on the nursing. I still want to nurse Gumball until she's 18 months old, but I'm going to go to two nursing sessions a day soon. It makes me sad, bc I love our special cuddling time. She likes to stop nursing to skewer my eyes, nose, and mouth, saying "EYE," "Nooooooooos," and "mouck." It's just so damn cute. Another selfish reason for not weaning? I nurse her in bed each morning, and get another 45 minutes to doze in bed. I am so tired, all the time.
I joined a dating site, right? Did I mention this before? Yeah. I had been writing three people for a few weeks. Daily. Smart, nice, clever people. And out of the blue, two of them just stopped writing me. It's not a big deal, but I had this little bubble of excitement and hope, and it's gone now.
It's probably too soon for me to date. I still think about Gumball's dad. I still miss him. I'm not filled with anxiety or sharp grief anymore, but I am lonely. I'm alone, or alone with Gumball most of the day, every day. I just want to cuddle up with someone to watch TV. Or get a hug at the end of the day. I have all these lovely, fun, cool, vibrant new mom friends, and I'm so fucked up and sad that I can barely interact some days. They're pretty forgiving people, but damn, I'm really not the best company these days.
I'm going to Massachusetts soon, to see my friend whose husband died. When we get back, I'm going to start cutting back on the nursing. I still want to nurse Gumball until she's 18 months old, but I'm going to go to two nursing sessions a day soon. It makes me sad, bc I love our special cuddling time. She likes to stop nursing to skewer my eyes, nose, and mouth, saying "EYE," "Nooooooooos," and "mouck." It's just so damn cute. Another selfish reason for not weaning? I nurse her in bed each morning, and get another 45 minutes to doze in bed. I am so tired, all the time.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Another Day
The way my life is going, I'm kind of afraid to write another sad entry, for fear that my sadness will become an overwhelming black hole and devour me, and everyone else up.
The world lost a wonderful man yesterday. My former neighbor. He had successfully defeated cancer, to be wiped out by a sudden blood infection. He was strong, vibrant, and probably arguing with the last breath in his lungs.
This was his profile photo on Facebook. Yes, this 80 year-old had a Facebook account. And an iPhone. My favorite photo of Ray is one that he took. It's of his wife, and grandson, and Jack Nicholas. Yup. When they met (at his grandson's high school graduation in California,) Ray went on and on about how he hates the Lakers. Because he knew Jack was a fan. Just to get under his skin a little. Hilarious.
Ray and I were neighbors for 10 years. We met and became friends because of the incompetent mailman. I kept getting his mail, and he got mine. We complained. Ray loved a good bitch session. Then I met his wife, and his kids, and his grandkids. He was family to me, and he treated me like a daughter. He mowed my lawn in summer, shoveled my paths in winter, drove me to the airport and bus station at the crack of dawn and the middle of the night. We went to restaurants together: Clam Box was his favorite. He even tried to give advice when Gumball wouldn't sleep. When I was insane and terrified to be alone, he went out and bought new locks and changed them at night, so I didn't have to be afraid about Gumball's dad returning. He helped me, listened to me cry, and included me in his family.
He was the sort of man that just doesn't exist any more. A hardass. Completely stubborn in his views, calling all and sundry "assholes" for not agreeing with him. But all the while, defending civil rights for gays and (remember his age) people of other races. He was raised by foster parents, went into the navy, and never got help or love from anyone, when he was a kid. But he worked hard, and made a good life for himself and his family.
I'm blessed to have known such a thoughtful, generous, loving person.
This has been a bad fucking year. I hate cancer.
The world lost a wonderful man yesterday. My former neighbor. He had successfully defeated cancer, to be wiped out by a sudden blood infection. He was strong, vibrant, and probably arguing with the last breath in his lungs.
Ray and I were neighbors for 10 years. We met and became friends because of the incompetent mailman. I kept getting his mail, and he got mine. We complained. Ray loved a good bitch session. Then I met his wife, and his kids, and his grandkids. He was family to me, and he treated me like a daughter. He mowed my lawn in summer, shoveled my paths in winter, drove me to the airport and bus station at the crack of dawn and the middle of the night. We went to restaurants together: Clam Box was his favorite. He even tried to give advice when Gumball wouldn't sleep. When I was insane and terrified to be alone, he went out and bought new locks and changed them at night, so I didn't have to be afraid about Gumball's dad returning. He helped me, listened to me cry, and included me in his family.
He was the sort of man that just doesn't exist any more. A hardass. Completely stubborn in his views, calling all and sundry "assholes" for not agreeing with him. But all the while, defending civil rights for gays and (remember his age) people of other races. He was raised by foster parents, went into the navy, and never got help or love from anyone, when he was a kid. But he worked hard, and made a good life for himself and his family.
I'm blessed to have known such a thoughtful, generous, loving person.
This has been a bad fucking year. I hate cancer.
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Residual Feelings
He has continued to call me. A couple times a day. I continued to ignore his calls, but then last night I started to worry about whether or not ignoring his calls was a good idea. Once I have the papers signed and returned, I won't worry about this. And here's the other truth. I miss him. Hearing his voice was equally wonderful and terrible.
So last night I texted him that I was afraid that not answering his calls would result in him withholding the paperwork even longer. I'm acting like it's all about the divorce, but in reality it's 99% about the custody paperwork. Staying legally married doesn't scare me. Having my daughter's physical and legal custody in jeopardy? Now that is terrifying.
He called me immediately. He was driving, so he couldn't text me back. He said he would sign the paperwork and leave me alone, because obviously I don't love him as much as he loves me, bc I won't take him back. I didn't argue the point, as I know I love him much more than he'll ever love anyone other than himself. He said he didn't know how he'd see Gumball, given that we now live so far away from him. I said that I hope he figures out a way, and that if he wants to do it, he will. I offered to meet him about an hour a half closer to him, where my aunt lives.
The conversation tore me apart. He sounded exhausted, and sad. He never sounds that way. He's arrogant, cocky, and faintly superior sounding. I've never heard him sad or tired. He sounded defeated. It really broke my heart. I am controlling and codependent, but for fucks sake, I only ever wanted good things for him. I wanted his life to be better in every way. Even now, I hate to know he's suffering. It's a lot easier for me to think that he's happy, and to feel angry about it. To know how dead-end he has made his life, and to see how depressed he is, it hurts. He and I could have been happy together, and we both know it. And now we're both miserable instead. And he picked this.
I also realized that there are two scenarios in which I would take him back. Sick, I know. Don't be too mad at me, because neither will never happen. I wish I could stop seeing the million shades of grey in everything, bc then I would never have come up with these ridiculous scenarios.
1. When I'm super old, and he's slightly less super old. Since he's 7 years younger than I am. Maybe then we could be together.
2. If he were to leave his ex/current/whatever, get therapy, and be single for a couple of years. Figure out how this nonsense happened in the first place. If I knew he could maintain something for a significant period of time, I could trust him again. But this will never happen. It's like what I said about him seeing Gumball. If he wants it to happen, he will figure out how to make it happen.
So last night I texted him that I was afraid that not answering his calls would result in him withholding the paperwork even longer. I'm acting like it's all about the divorce, but in reality it's 99% about the custody paperwork. Staying legally married doesn't scare me. Having my daughter's physical and legal custody in jeopardy? Now that is terrifying.
He called me immediately. He was driving, so he couldn't text me back. He said he would sign the paperwork and leave me alone, because obviously I don't love him as much as he loves me, bc I won't take him back. I didn't argue the point, as I know I love him much more than he'll ever love anyone other than himself. He said he didn't know how he'd see Gumball, given that we now live so far away from him. I said that I hope he figures out a way, and that if he wants to do it, he will. I offered to meet him about an hour a half closer to him, where my aunt lives.
The conversation tore me apart. He sounded exhausted, and sad. He never sounds that way. He's arrogant, cocky, and faintly superior sounding. I've never heard him sad or tired. He sounded defeated. It really broke my heart. I am controlling and codependent, but for fucks sake, I only ever wanted good things for him. I wanted his life to be better in every way. Even now, I hate to know he's suffering. It's a lot easier for me to think that he's happy, and to feel angry about it. To know how dead-end he has made his life, and to see how depressed he is, it hurts. He and I could have been happy together, and we both know it. And now we're both miserable instead. And he picked this.
I also realized that there are two scenarios in which I would take him back. Sick, I know. Don't be too mad at me, because neither will never happen. I wish I could stop seeing the million shades of grey in everything, bc then I would never have come up with these ridiculous scenarios.
1. When I'm super old, and he's slightly less super old. Since he's 7 years younger than I am. Maybe then we could be together.
2. If he were to leave his ex/current/whatever, get therapy, and be single for a couple of years. Figure out how this nonsense happened in the first place. If I knew he could maintain something for a significant period of time, I could trust him again. But this will never happen. It's like what I said about him seeing Gumball. If he wants it to happen, he will figure out how to make it happen.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
I Hate Being Right
I hate it. Hate being right.
I spoke with Gumball's dad. He said he would sign the divorce papers if I answered his call. So I did. And now I am sad. And sick. Its hard knowing that your soulmate exists, and that he loves you, and wishes you were still together. And that the little fragment of a person who loves you is completely submerged in another person. A crazy, hateful person, who promises nothing but pain, lies and misery.
Maybe someday, when he and I are super old, we could be friends. I miss him. Hearing his voice felt great. Jesus, I miss him. But the truth, that I shared with him, is that I will never let him back into my life again. My daughter will never have her dad walk out on her. He only offers misery and pain. I told him that I hope he works on his current relationship, takes care of his kids, and finds peace and happiness.
I'd like to find some peace and happiness too.
I spoke with Gumball's dad. He said he would sign the divorce papers if I answered his call. So I did. And now I am sad. And sick. Its hard knowing that your soulmate exists, and that he loves you, and wishes you were still together. And that the little fragment of a person who loves you is completely submerged in another person. A crazy, hateful person, who promises nothing but pain, lies and misery.
Maybe someday, when he and I are super old, we could be friends. I miss him. Hearing his voice felt great. Jesus, I miss him. But the truth, that I shared with him, is that I will never let him back into my life again. My daughter will never have her dad walk out on her. He only offers misery and pain. I told him that I hope he works on his current relationship, takes care of his kids, and finds peace and happiness.
I'd like to find some peace and happiness too.
Saturday, October 1, 2011
What a Difference a Day (or 2) Make
I had bacon and eggs for dinner, and may have a glass of wine, or a beer, for dessert.
Got _yet another_ text message from R last night:
I don't want to divorce you.
I spent the night tossing and turning (apparently so did little Rat, bc she woke up twice). I was sad. I felt lonely and awful, and missed R so badly. I didn't respond to his text. Then I spoke with my mom, and she felt that the least inciting response would be to ask him to please sign the paperwork. I agreed. So I wrote him, "will you please just sign and return the paperwork."
To which he responded:
I'm going to have a lawyer look it over first. I don't think it's quite fair.
I am spitting mad. The case has already been to court. The divorce is costing me A LOT of money. $5,000 so far. And I'm pretty certain it's going to be at least twice that. And NOW, NOW, he wants to get a lawyer? NOW he asserts that the settlement WE agreed on isn't fair?
Seriously?
Seriously.
I think he is going to try to get money from me, somehow. We weren't married long enough for him to qualify for anything. But, my fear, my absolute terror, is that he will try to leverage visitation with my sweet little Gumball. I hope, for her sake, that she has a loving and supportive relationship with her dad. I hope he wouldn't try to take her just to get money from me. I am really scared, and very, very angry. Not quite angry enough to share his messages with his friends, family, and most importantly, that whore he lives with, but close.
Got _yet another_ text message from R last night:
I don't want to divorce you.
I spent the night tossing and turning (apparently so did little Rat, bc she woke up twice). I was sad. I felt lonely and awful, and missed R so badly. I didn't respond to his text. Then I spoke with my mom, and she felt that the least inciting response would be to ask him to please sign the paperwork. I agreed. So I wrote him, "will you please just sign and return the paperwork."
To which he responded:
I'm going to have a lawyer look it over first. I don't think it's quite fair.
I am spitting mad. The case has already been to court. The divorce is costing me A LOT of money. $5,000 so far. And I'm pretty certain it's going to be at least twice that. And NOW, NOW, he wants to get a lawyer? NOW he asserts that the settlement WE agreed on isn't fair?
Seriously?
Seriously.
I think he is going to try to get money from me, somehow. We weren't married long enough for him to qualify for anything. But, my fear, my absolute terror, is that he will try to leverage visitation with my sweet little Gumball. I hope, for her sake, that she has a loving and supportive relationship with her dad. I hope he wouldn't try to take her just to get money from me. I am really scared, and very, very angry. Not quite angry enough to share his messages with his friends, family, and most importantly, that whore he lives with, but close.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
One Last Thing
I just want to say one last thing. One last thing... bc I have to get in the last word, even if I'm the only one talking. Or writing. Whatever.
And that is because this whole thing, you know, being left without one freaking word- has totally made me doubt my perception of reality. I don't know as much as I used to, and I don't trust myself. But there are a few things I do believe still. I really loved R. I still love him. I hate that. I know this is true because even now I pity him. I feel sad that he will never fulfill his dreams. He will never go to school, never know a job beyond being a truck driver, which he hates. He will never go to Alaska. He'll never take his kids to Disney World. He'll never be in a chess club, or play in tournaments again. He'll never do, or be, most of the things he wanted. And it hurts me to think of that. I really only ever wanted the best for him. My controlling, over-involved version of "the best," its true. Breaks my heart.
And now, for real, I am done.
And that is because this whole thing, you know, being left without one freaking word- has totally made me doubt my perception of reality. I don't know as much as I used to, and I don't trust myself. But there are a few things I do believe still. I really loved R. I still love him. I hate that. I know this is true because even now I pity him. I feel sad that he will never fulfill his dreams. He will never go to school, never know a job beyond being a truck driver, which he hates. He will never go to Alaska. He'll never take his kids to Disney World. He'll never be in a chess club, or play in tournaments again. He'll never do, or be, most of the things he wanted. And it hurts me to think of that. I really only ever wanted the best for him. My controlling, over-involved version of "the best," its true. Breaks my heart.
And now, for real, I am done.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
A Final Lament
Today is the last day I am going to whine and cry about R. I am going to indulge myself today in the hopes that tomorrow I wake up with a clear, empty heart. Empty of feelings, good and bad, for him. Full of love and pride and hope for my sweet, smart baby.
He and I met through an online dating website. He lived 2 hours from me, and was 7 years younger. I was *not* interested at all. He told me I had a beautiful smile. I thanked him. Ever polite, until you abandon me and my baby and have twins with a whore who slept around with everyone and bragged about it. Then I stop being polite. I was drawn in by his clever writing, and good grammar. We emailed and instant messaged, texted and talked. One of the first things he wrote to me was that he didn't want to be hurt anymore. I had been single for over two years, but had just started to date. I was happy, in a job I loved and hated, had friends living with me, and looked good. I met him, and was neither impressed nor repulsed. I spent a weekend at his house. Sometimes he was funny and witty, and sometimes he was very reserved. I spent a day with him at work, driving his truck. I fell for him. And he told me he wanted to work things out with his "ex" wife. They weren't divorced, even though he called her his ex. I missed him but mostly moved on. I sent him a letter and a couple of emails... and somehow we got back together.
Right from the beginning, as soon as I fell for R, I was done for. I loved him so intensely. Being with him felt like being in the sun. Or breathing. It felt right. It wasn't perfect. It was real though, and I never lost myself in the relationship. I met his kids, and loved them. It was the family I've always dreamed of. We had less pleasant times too. No question about that. I have faults, and he has faults. I have never been so happy as when I was with him. I truly believed he and I could work out any problem. And I would have spent the rest of my life proud and happy as his wife.
But he left, and I never knew he was unhappy, never had a chance to try to do better. I would have fought hard for our marriage, and our family.
I am not saying everything would have been great, you know, if he had stayed. I'll never know. Probably I would have resented him for not helping enough. He always was lazy. I didn't mind it, as I am too tightly wound. Maybe I would have suggested therapy. Maybe I would have grown tired of him. Like he grew tired of me. I doubt it, but being a mom has changed my perspective, and I know I would have always put Gumball first.
But he left. In one phone call I lost my best friend, my husband, my stepsons, my family, my hopes and dreams and my heart. Literally from one instant to the next. I don't know how I survived the pain, that even now, almost a year later, makes me sick to my stomach and weak. I miss him so badly. I was so proud and happy to be his wife, and to start a family together.
Tell me these people didn't love each other. Tell me. Because nothing makes sense anymore.
He and I met through an online dating website. He lived 2 hours from me, and was 7 years younger. I was *not* interested at all. He told me I had a beautiful smile. I thanked him. Ever polite, until you abandon me and my baby and have twins with a whore who slept around with everyone and bragged about it. Then I stop being polite. I was drawn in by his clever writing, and good grammar. We emailed and instant messaged, texted and talked. One of the first things he wrote to me was that he didn't want to be hurt anymore. I had been single for over two years, but had just started to date. I was happy, in a job I loved and hated, had friends living with me, and looked good. I met him, and was neither impressed nor repulsed. I spent a weekend at his house. Sometimes he was funny and witty, and sometimes he was very reserved. I spent a day with him at work, driving his truck. I fell for him. And he told me he wanted to work things out with his "ex" wife. They weren't divorced, even though he called her his ex. I missed him but mostly moved on. I sent him a letter and a couple of emails... and somehow we got back together.
Right from the beginning, as soon as I fell for R, I was done for. I loved him so intensely. Being with him felt like being in the sun. Or breathing. It felt right. It wasn't perfect. It was real though, and I never lost myself in the relationship. I met his kids, and loved them. It was the family I've always dreamed of. We had less pleasant times too. No question about that. I have faults, and he has faults. I have never been so happy as when I was with him. I truly believed he and I could work out any problem. And I would have spent the rest of my life proud and happy as his wife.
But he left, and I never knew he was unhappy, never had a chance to try to do better. I would have fought hard for our marriage, and our family.
I am not saying everything would have been great, you know, if he had stayed. I'll never know. Probably I would have resented him for not helping enough. He always was lazy. I didn't mind it, as I am too tightly wound. Maybe I would have suggested therapy. Maybe I would have grown tired of him. Like he grew tired of me. I doubt it, but being a mom has changed my perspective, and I know I would have always put Gumball first.
But he left. In one phone call I lost my best friend, my husband, my stepsons, my family, my hopes and dreams and my heart. Literally from one instant to the next. I don't know how I survived the pain, that even now, almost a year later, makes me sick to my stomach and weak. I miss him so badly. I was so proud and happy to be his wife, and to start a family together.
Tell me these people didn't love each other. Tell me. Because nothing makes sense anymore.
Monday, September 5, 2011
Recent Developments
I haven't posted in a while. Not sure why. Things have been normal. Good and bad. Gumball started napping her own, and I started getting less sleep bc I apparently can't nap without a baby attached to my bosom. She's growing up, and I am happy to get a little time away from her during the day. It makes my time with her a little more fun, I think. Even though I am a little more tired.
I had one kind of frustrating day. I finally found a therapist up here, and made an appointment to see her. God knows I do need help. I'm ok, but not thriving. And I want to be ready and poised to take antidepressants as soon as baby is done breastfeeding. I am going to try to stick out 6 more months. But talking helps too, as does 2 hours to myself in the middle of the day. So therapy. I had an appointment scheduled. My second with this particular psychiatric nurse practitioner. And as I was feeding Gumball lunch, the fire alarm started going off. Not full force, but an annoying cheep cheep cheep every minute or so. So I changed the battery, reset it, and waited. It kept cheeping. I called my mom, my friend E, and my neighbor. No help whatsoever. I called property management, and they sent a repair person. I was very anxious, and called the therapist to let her know I might be late, or might not come at all- BUT that I was going to try my best to make it. When Gumball's nanny came, I hauled ass, and made it to therapy with seconds to spare. Not enough time to go to the bathroom, which I hadn't done all day in my panicked state, but at least I didn't have to run to the building. And the therapist had left. I called, and expressed my frustration. But now I don't want to return to her. And the other NPs in the area are all not accepting new clients. I called my PCP for a referral, and we'll see how that goes. Honestly, I think time is the only thing that is going to make me feel better.
I hate that I tend to write when I am feeling low. It paints an unrealistic picture of how I am feeling. I have happy moments. Happy days even. I feel highs and laugh sometimes. Not a lot. Honestly, I have forced every laugh in the past year. Gumball doesn't laugh much either, which is probably my fault. I don't feel like laughing. Especially not today.
Gumball's dad became a father again, to twin daughters, yesterday.
I knew his she-who-shall-not-be-named was pregnant. I knew she was pregnant with twins. I did not expect him to use the name he wanted to give Gumball on his new daughter. I did not expect to see photos of their happy family posted all across my facebook page, from Gumball's great aunt and grandmother. I didn't expect to feel anything.
I felt horrible. So, for the first time in a year, I contacted R. I have joked, maybe even here, that I haven't responded to his texts bc I only text friends (I like to add that email is reserved for my enemies.) I couldn't help myself. I wrote him all the bitterness and hate in my heart. I am embarrassed to write what I said. It was offensive and awful. I am not a mean person. It made my stomach twist to write it. I reminded him of what his life will now hold: no chance to finish college, long, boring trucking jobs, and a partner who doesn't just have another man's name tattooed on her back, she has "property of XXX." I reminded him of these things and threw in some choice names. I called him a worthless, lazy, dimwit. He responded. Twice. Once yesterday. He said "magnanimous." It was one of the first compliments he gave me. I knew the hidden message. He misses me, he misses us. Then today he said, "Everything you said is absolutely correct. I'm definitely not good enough for you, but I want you to know that I love you and I miss you a lot."
One day after his twin girls were born.
Dirtbag.
Of course it didn't give me any pleasure. Well, no, it did give me some pleasure. Like biting a canker sore or peeling a sunburn.
God it is true. I miss him every single day. The only way I am able to move forward is to tell myself that he is dead. If it wasn't for Gumball, I would have begged him to come back. I truly believe this POS (piece of shit) is my soulmate. We had some wonderful times together. He challenged me and taught me so much, and our life together could have been wonderful. I really grieve for me, and this loss. The thing that makes it worse is that my choices will someday impact my sweet girl. For her sake, I will never, ever take him back. I pity his children, all five of them. I tried to save his boys, and Gumball will hopefully never know a father who could abandon her and never once ask about her.
That keeps me strong too. I will not take him back bc he never asked about our daughter, never once.
I had one kind of frustrating day. I finally found a therapist up here, and made an appointment to see her. God knows I do need help. I'm ok, but not thriving. And I want to be ready and poised to take antidepressants as soon as baby is done breastfeeding. I am going to try to stick out 6 more months. But talking helps too, as does 2 hours to myself in the middle of the day. So therapy. I had an appointment scheduled. My second with this particular psychiatric nurse practitioner. And as I was feeding Gumball lunch, the fire alarm started going off. Not full force, but an annoying cheep cheep cheep every minute or so. So I changed the battery, reset it, and waited. It kept cheeping. I called my mom, my friend E, and my neighbor. No help whatsoever. I called property management, and they sent a repair person. I was very anxious, and called the therapist to let her know I might be late, or might not come at all- BUT that I was going to try my best to make it. When Gumball's nanny came, I hauled ass, and made it to therapy with seconds to spare. Not enough time to go to the bathroom, which I hadn't done all day in my panicked state, but at least I didn't have to run to the building. And the therapist had left. I called, and expressed my frustration. But now I don't want to return to her. And the other NPs in the area are all not accepting new clients. I called my PCP for a referral, and we'll see how that goes. Honestly, I think time is the only thing that is going to make me feel better.
I hate that I tend to write when I am feeling low. It paints an unrealistic picture of how I am feeling. I have happy moments. Happy days even. I feel highs and laugh sometimes. Not a lot. Honestly, I have forced every laugh in the past year. Gumball doesn't laugh much either, which is probably my fault. I don't feel like laughing. Especially not today.
Gumball's dad became a father again, to twin daughters, yesterday.
I knew his she-who-shall-not-be-named was pregnant. I knew she was pregnant with twins. I did not expect him to use the name he wanted to give Gumball on his new daughter. I did not expect to see photos of their happy family posted all across my facebook page, from Gumball's great aunt and grandmother. I didn't expect to feel anything.
I felt horrible. So, for the first time in a year, I contacted R. I have joked, maybe even here, that I haven't responded to his texts bc I only text friends (I like to add that email is reserved for my enemies.) I couldn't help myself. I wrote him all the bitterness and hate in my heart. I am embarrassed to write what I said. It was offensive and awful. I am not a mean person. It made my stomach twist to write it. I reminded him of what his life will now hold: no chance to finish college, long, boring trucking jobs, and a partner who doesn't just have another man's name tattooed on her back, she has "property of XXX." I reminded him of these things and threw in some choice names. I called him a worthless, lazy, dimwit. He responded. Twice. Once yesterday. He said "magnanimous." It was one of the first compliments he gave me. I knew the hidden message. He misses me, he misses us. Then today he said, "Everything you said is absolutely correct. I'm definitely not good enough for you, but I want you to know that I love you and I miss you a lot."
One day after his twin girls were born.
Dirtbag.
Of course it didn't give me any pleasure. Well, no, it did give me some pleasure. Like biting a canker sore or peeling a sunburn.
God it is true. I miss him every single day. The only way I am able to move forward is to tell myself that he is dead. If it wasn't for Gumball, I would have begged him to come back. I truly believe this POS (piece of shit) is my soulmate. We had some wonderful times together. He challenged me and taught me so much, and our life together could have been wonderful. I really grieve for me, and this loss. The thing that makes it worse is that my choices will someday impact my sweet girl. For her sake, I will never, ever take him back. I pity his children, all five of them. I tried to save his boys, and Gumball will hopefully never know a father who could abandon her and never once ask about her.
That keeps me strong too. I will not take him back bc he never asked about our daughter, never once.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Good and Bad
Today was Gumball's first birthday party. Not her actual first birthday, but close enough. It was a wonderful event. I invited friends and family, and rented a small pavilion in a local park with a pool. A good friend and her son came up from Massachusetts, and we all enjoyed pizza, sodas and cake- and a beautiful day. I was so happy to be able to share the day with my family and friends, and I was especially touched that Gumball's paternal grandparents and great aunt drove 3 hours to attend. And my aunt also drove almost 2 hours to be here. After so many disappointments, it made me so happy to see so much love being showered upon my little sprout.
My friend O made the cake. And lots of mini cupcakes. She is amazing.
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| Yeah, yeah, I know. Her name. Its not a big secret, I just don't want it to be google-able. |
The baby was nervous at first, but then quickly warmed to her new family. I love them, and it means the world to me that they shared this day with us.
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| Great Aunt D |
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| Grandma K and Grandpa R |
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| Aunt C (my dad's sister) and Nana |
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| Little Miss Barfs-a-Lot WOLFED down an entire mini cupcake, like Ms. PacMan |
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| Note: "trendy" feathers in my hair. Kate Gosslin-like, or actually cool? I think I'm too old to know. |
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| Opening presents |
It was also lovely seeing my friend A, and her son. Gumball loved having a young, mobile playmate.
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| Super happy to have a friend catching a ride |
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Totally capable of managing two... ha!
Then I came home and found out that my Massachusetts house, the one I am trying desperately to sell (and selling at a huge loss) had been broken in to and all the copper pipe removed. When I spoke with the police, they told me that for having caused tens of thousands of dollars of damage, the thieves would only get $50 for the pipes. I hope they choke on it. And, when they broke in, they used the toilet and didn't flush. Nice, right? Sometimes it seems like I am cursed.
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