12 March 2018

It’s rainy and cold. Lately, I’ve been down. I felt it coming and couldn’t stop it. Indeed, all the things I read, and the therapist said that I need to let it come and feel it. I’ve felt a lot of things. Mostly, I’ve been getting better. I’ve been getting out of the house and doing things. I eat alone in public – I don’t know if that’s brave or sad. I play a little pool, drink a little (sometimes a lot) of beer, I take pictures, and I schedule things to do – Asheville at the end of the month and a ton of things in April I got to do. It’s always when the times get closer to doing these things, I become apprehensive. I think I’m afraid. Of what I don’t know. It’s hard. I have to fight the urge to say “fuck it” and stay at home, cuddling farting dogs and watching movies. I’ve been getting better, though, because I do get out into the world for a bit and overcome my… caution.

Until things like this (to the left) happen. Angers me for a bit, but then its an exercise in, again, “fuck it”. Angers me because he’s so self centered and cares nothing for anybody else, and I was with that. For a long time. What is vindictive in me is that I’m comforted by the knowledge that people like him will, sooner than later, become isolated and lonely and won’t know how to fix that. He will have raged at one too many people, hurt one too many who loved him and end up not being able to have friends or lovers in the end. Or maybe he’ll find someone just damaged enough to be the puzzle piece that fits. Either way, that’s not a place I want to be, or know about. These days, I stagger towards the future, stagger day by day (from a song). I felt the bad coming this time, and I stood there and let it hit. It was a lot of regret and worry about the little things:

  • I should have kept the other volvo. It would have been a parts car, and it could of sat in the driveway and scared away potential boogie men in thinking there’s someone home. Plus, I wouldn’t have had to spend money on new tires or little fiddlybit parts. Everything on that car fits on my car.
  • I should have sucked it up and started the divorce WAY earlier. I was in such a state, though, I was near emotional and mental paralysis. I regret not doing it the DAY after he left. I would have save so much money, and all this would be over. I was worried about serving him, and it turned out he was easy to find. I was worried about the money, which, I shouldn’t have. I worried about how he was going to make it all ugly – it turns out, he has so much less power over me and this situation than I thought. I just wish I had the strength back then to go forward.
  • I worry about money. I shouldn’t. I might be broke today, but I won’t be tomorrow. It just doesn’t feel good. I forget that today it sucks but tomorrow it won’t. I’m worried about having GAS MONEY for the next two weeks, for christssakes, as I write yet another big check to the lawyer. I let myself be scared of so many little things. Little things that are nothing. This morning, the burdens seems so heavy, I cried for no reason on the way to work. It’s about an hour later, I still feel shitty, but I pulled myself out of the rabbit hole.
  • I just realized it was daylight savings time. So, I was feeling extraordinarily tired when I woke up at four, and I thought, ‘there must be something really wrong with me – usually, I’m not this tired.’ But then, I realized, ‘yeah, its pretty fucking early’.
  • We get free pizza today, and I am on the sadness diet. I am just not hungry. DAMN.
  • I didn’t realize how much the little things mean to me. Warm weather. Being able to take pictures. Talking about my shit to another human being. When these things aren’t available, it just magnifies the intensity of the sad and bad that I feel.
  • I’m trying to get better. And I am, believe it or not. Day by day. I realize that Doug sends me those texts and does what he does because he doesn’t want me to feel better. He doesn’t want me to feel happy. Maybe he gets off on hurting people. Maybe the only way he can feel better about himself, is making everything else around him worse. Maybe that’s the only way he can feel good about himself, is to feel sorry for himself because – oh gee – he has it SOOO bad. I still harbor anger that I need just to let go of, but, it’s difficult because the anger is comforting. But. It has changed form, and lessened throughout the months, so maybe I’m close to letting it just drain away.

These days I keep to myself. I keep all this quiet and to myself. I lean a lot less on my online support system, and I just don’t talk to anyone real. There is one person that has never said anything to make me feel bad about the way I’m handling any of this. She has rolled her eyes from time to time about my shit, but, she has never said anything that made me feel ashamed of feeling bad. Whether people meant to or not, almost everybody has said ONE thing that has made me feel really dreadful about how I am dealing with all of this. I either feel like I’m doing inappropriate things to deal with this, or I’m not dealing with all this fast enough or they give me the direct OPPOSITE advice of what the literature/therapist says to do. Or. They make me feel like a burden, like a bother, like I just need to STFU. I know they don’t mean too, it’s not on purpose, but, it’s something I couldn’t help, the shame and guilt of messing it all up.

One person, when I have needed to talk out loud to someone, has ALWAYS said the right things. She has rolled her eyes at some of my stuff sometimes, and I still feel like I am a bother to her, but I have an appreciation for her she’ll never know (mostly because I don’t think she’ll ever read this.) I thank you, so much, Mandy.

Online, I love all the friends, especially Bonnie and Jennifer. But everybody online makes me feel so much better, so much less alone. I know they are there. I know, KNOW, know in my HEAD, everything is already 10x better, and my life will be so much richer and fuller. I have just internalized so much of the self loathing and fear Doug has given me. Pile that onto the ton of baggage I had already, and it’s hard keeping all that at bay. It’s hard not to stumble like this, every once in a while. Shit. I don’t even know why I started crying this morning. I KNOW in my head it will all be better, I’m just waiting for the day when I FEEL it is all better. When I don’t have to talk myself into a better day.

Today, has been a very bad. Day. But I promise everybody. I’m really trying to keep it together.

Shit. That motherfucker really did a number on me, didn’t he?!

And I’ll bet he’s just really proud of that.