Sunday, October 31, 2010

irony lives on

Life can be so heartless sometimes. I have a refrigerator in my apartment that is an energy hog, the shelves are broken and held together with duck tape, etc. I've been wanting a new fridge for a long time but it's not in my financial realm and hasn't been. Two weeks ago my brother-in-law was renovating an apartment in the city and asked if I wanted their old refigerator. Yes, it's old but in good condition. Sure, I said and he dropped it off last Thursday.

I came home Friday and there sitting in the middle of my dining room was the appliance with detached doors leaning against the wall. I immediately felt overwhelmed. I started the cleaning and purifying process leaving the door assemblies until Saturday.

Shortly after I brought out the buckets and the bleach my love showed up. He said he had wanted to see me but gave me no idea why. I thought he just wanted to see me. I spent too much of my life waiting for the axe to fall -anticipating the very worse from him; but not this time. I didn't think anything negative at all and I didn't see it flying at me like a raging bull ready to pierce my unguarded heart. My mistake! He came over to tell me he couldn't live with me and wanted a hiatus. To say I was devastated is an understatement. Angry, sad, hurt, and yes, devastated.

Truthfully, I was replacing the refrigerator because I wanted something a little more decent for when he moved in, if that is where we decided to stay. Don't misunderstand me, I wanted a better refrigerator but our future gave me the impetus to forge forward and find a replacement.

How ironic that the same day I am working toward joining our lives together; he set out to separate them. And I didn't see it coming. I knew he wasn't right but I didn't know I was the cause. We had what I thought was a lovely day last Saturday - intimate and emotional and caring. He felt the same or so he said. But I don't know anymore what words from him are true.

I laid in bed this morning with this anxious bruise in the pit of my gut and I couldn't move. I laid on my side and cried, my stomach churning. What am I going to do? I thought life was moving in a favorable direction and then this bomb gets dropped on me. I tried so hard to do the right thing - asking, reassuring him that I wasn't trying to put pressure but still he lied to me. He didn't have to; I would have understood.

I will keep seeking my peace of mind and find a place where I can live in harmony with all my emotions. Oh yeah, and my daughter found an apartment so she will be moving out this month. That leaves me, myself, and I. How will that be?

I have many unanswered questions lying ahead of me. It will be interesting at the very least and hopefully have no more trauma.

Saturday, October 30, 2010

mature response? I think not.

An intensely emotional conversation with my love left me with a strong desire to escape my reality. Predictable but unfortunate, my reaction was a little less than adult and so I indulged in a bottle of gin and some marijuana. I felt nothing but intoxicated and high. It had been at least a decade since I smoked pot; the last time being with my love. My thoughts scattered and I was able to leave the remnants of an upsetting conversation in some inaccessible fold of my mind for a short time. It worked until about 5 this morning when I rolled over half-asleep and realized that my love is no longer.

I don't understand how I could have gotten myself into an unbalanced, emotionally agonizing relationship. But I did and for just about two decades. I thought we loved one another; oh, but we do, but it just doesn't cure the ills that haven strickened our love. He made so many promises to me, and professed a deep love for me many many times. He promised a long and loving future with me.

Last night all that changed. Now we are in a relationship "on hiatus" but it's my choice, I suppose, whether I choose to remain in a holding pattern or move on. It's not an easy decision when love is involved. He doesn't want to ask me to wait and fill me with false promises; yet, he told me that, "Yes, 'on hold' does give the illusion of hope and I do have hope." I said that is still stringing me along and is that 'hope' real or is he just waiting until he can handle a permanent severing of us. He said that was not what he was doing.

I do believe him. I do think that somewhere inside he has convinced himself that there is hope but I'm not sure that means anything in my reality. I have some processing and a few major decisions to weigh. Plus his lies have left me in a bit of a financial pickle, which he offered to help with me and which I declined.

I don't know why I trust men. I just get screwed again and again.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

I misspoke

I made a mistake. The "nothings" I referred to in my previous post is an unfair . We grew up to be survivors and undoubtedly overcame extreme odds. Some have died and some have had sadder outcomes than others. I think I was an exception in some respects - I didn't fall by the wayside and become a neglectful, irresponsible parent or a drug addict or alcoholic. And I haven't let cancer kill me yet.

But I've had more than my fair share of failings -- two horrible abusive marriages and a 20 year relationship that has been as unsatisfying and hurtful as it has been beautiful and loving. At least I have had some beauty and love.

I do deserve better in my life and I suppose only I can provide that. I better stop looking for better elsewhere and continue to look inward for my happiness.

Monday, October 25, 2010

Facebook may be harmful to healing...

I am on Facebook, rather reluctantly; but it seemed to be the thing to do in my family to stay in touch with all those relatives residing everywhere. Although I don't really stay in touch nor do I share much of anything about myself except for an occasional political cause posting or video that amused me. It's rare, however.  But I read about what everyone in the extended famly is doing - trips, school, jobs -- seemingly wonderful goings-on and clever comments that leave me feeling completely inadequate and inferior.  It's all in my head.

Add to that the connections with friends from high school. It just clarifies in my mind how absolutely consumed I was with self-loathing, anger and destructive behaviors. I read one old friend's profile after another and I think, no wonder I wound up with the friends I had - the abandoned teenagers of single, distracted, or abusive parents.  And we all grew up to be nothings so-to-speak.  I separated from the friends who grew up with some measure of success and happiness and drew my life into the folds of the fucked-up.  It just kills me inside because I could have done so much better in my life. 

That is why, I am sure, I dream about beating up someone, who was once my dearest teenage friend, into bloody pulp on a bathroom floor.

Saturday, October 23, 2010


I had another dream last night, one that I could recall.  I was awoken from a sound sleep (in my dream) by my love. He snuck into my room and surprised me with a beautifuly, brightly wrapped bouquet of flowers..or so I thought. He was grinning and hiding something behind his back when he woke me up. I was frightened at first but instantly pleased when I realized it was him.  He pulled the wrapped flowers out from behind his back and handed them to me.  I was elated - I love flowers. I unwrapped them and instead of flowers, there were two branches of pussy willows - only they were in that dormant, dead-like state because it was winter. I was a little taken aback but I saw how happy my love was when he presented them to me so I smiled and thanked him. I felt good even though I didn't understand the gift.

A while later I was going on a short trip with my love.  We were lost and stopped at this rest stop house to get directions.  We both went inside and into a private room where my love flopped down on a sofa to rest. I jumped on him, straddling his legs, and kissed him hard on the mouth. I was so excited and told him I just was so over the top with joy that we were going someplace where I could spend the night with him. I kept telling him how happy I was.

Suddenly this horse appeared in the room - a beautiful, dark stallion that stood over us and the couch in such a way that I could no longer see my love.  The horse's rear was blocking my view. I kept shouting to move the horse and when my love finally did, I looked over and it was no longer him but my abusive first ex-husband. I screamed and jumped up and told him to get out.  He was just smiling and telling me he had all these plans to get rich - he was going to resell wine and all kinds of crap.

I told him no fucking way; get away from me and then I ran outside and down to a concrete outhouse structure where I locked myself inside.  I was crying and I didn't understand what was happening.  I could hear little children outside the building playing. My ex's sister came down and  tried to calm me down from outside the locked door telling me that she knew that I still loved him and I should just accept my fate.  I told her to get away from me and take him with her.  She told me it was the wrong thing to do but she left quietly with the bastard.

And then I woke up.  I wasn't upset but I did feel strangely quiet inside.  Lots of symbolism, I'm sure. I have to give it some thought now.

Thursday, October 21, 2010


I think I might be getting depressed.  I cry all the time over everything - over my life and everyone elses in the world. Maybe menopause, I don't know.  Maybe menopause just intensifies everything. I think it makes me extremely agitated and boiling hot. Unpleasant.

I look in the mirror and I see someone ugly and wasted. So I try not to look.

I'm angry but I keep saying that. I guess it's true...sad and angry. Now, depressed and worthless can be added. Oh gosh, I've made myself tear up.  I'm going to take a nap, right here, right now, at my desk.  When all else fails, escape through sleep. It won't last long.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

something to live by?

Heal the sick; cleanse the lepers; raise the dead; cast out demons
I see this sign every morning after leaving the gym.  Today I thought to myself, hmmm, maybe I should heed those words and lose weight and cure my physical aches and pains; cleanse my soul of all the poison ingested; meditate and talk to my spirit helpers, and get rid of those evil demons that have haunted me all my life.  Yeah, it sounds good.

I went to see Dr. B last night and we discussed my weekend trip. Mostly I spoke of my father - my father who is not "gone" but alive and well and talking jibberish that has secret meanings. I can see it in his eyes...he knows.  And somewhere I know.  It's no longer safe though.

I'm angry. I came home fuming and ready to rip off heads, especially heads of men. And I came home angry at my father's wife for being so utterly cold and heartless to my father.  But why? I hate my father. Dr. B said that although I hate my father for my own history with him, I have human compassion for his suffering now. 

When I look at her (his wife) and feel her hatred and listen to her condescending prattle about all the pathetic things my father now does, I want to slap her.  She didn't have to stay with him for 35+ years. I'm certain he preyed upon her youth and innocence and at one time it all felt good to her. But then he got old and crotchety and abusive and hostile.  He was always abusive and he was always mean-spirited but I guess that was something she could relate to.  My point? She didn't have to stay with an abusive, hateful man -- she eventually grew up and could have left. She chose to stay; however, and isolate herself from all the world except her son. She never worked but was life really good?  I don't think so.

My siblings and I?  We had no choice - he was our father. He was around when we were growing up, being abusive and hateful and traumatizing to all of us. We took it as best we were able but the first opportunity we had, we fled. The rest has been written about. He was a bastard and when his wife wishes he would die already, part of me agrees but the other side gets angry at her for being so insensitive and cold -- for expressing these feelings in front of me, his daughter.

I say nothing but carry the pain home with me and into the office of Dr. B. I have a splitting headache and have since Monday.

I'm angry.

Monday, October 18, 2010

I survived

I handled myself better this trip than I ever have in the past and on Sunday morning I was pleased with my success.  But tonight I'm pooped - up at 4:30 a.m., work all day, and now I'm trying to unwind so that I can get a healthy night's sleep.  I haven't all weekend.  I want to write about the last three days and hopefully I will tomorrow.  I feel upset and disturbed by all that I witnessed.

I will tell you this - my father's mind was not yet gone. He spoke; he ate; he walked and emoted and drove his wife nuts.  She wishes him dead and makes no bones about it. It is no secret and she does not keep those thoughts to herself. She must figure we hate him too.  Do we? Yes I do, and no, I don't.

Thursday, October 14, 2010

I shouldn't be surprised...

I woke up this morning with a completely bloody and gooky right eyeball. I was troubled - I have had normal looking eyes for at least two months. My dismay was to be expected, I suppose.  I am, after all, going to visit three people in my life; three people who have caused me extreme distress over the course of my entire lifetime.  And I'm doing it in three days. A whirlwind tour of misery.

Add to that my anxiety over flying and the possibility of a major storm hitting the area this evening just at take-off.  Please nor-easter, stay away until after I lift off and rise above the dark storm clouds and threatening winds.

My mom - she's aging quickly and nuttier than ever; my dad - no mind left; my son - well, he's trying but he just... well, I am just not healed yet and neither is he but at least he's trying.

Good luck. Have a safe flight.

By the way, I have been seeing 333 again, which adds up to 9, which apparently is a great Feng Shui number. The number 9 signifies the fullness of heaven and earth. Maybe something good is heading my way.

Friday, October 08, 2010

the saga is over

My dentist, as she scraped away the final remnants of glue from my newly installed bridge, smiled at me and said, "the saga is finally over." 

Wow - I had thought this before when I had new crowns put on two years ago. It hadn't yet become a saga but the past year certainly catapulted me into the 'saga' category.  I'm not sure how I mouth is still numb from the novacaine. I don't know if they even look like my teeth because truthfully I have no idea what my original teeth looked like. It's strange because they are my front teeth and your front teeth can alter the entire appearance of your face. 

Who have I become?

Wednesday, October 06, 2010

anxiety levels are skyrocketing

And I'm not sure why. Last night's sleep was distressing. I don't believe I slept for more than one hour at a time. Major anxiety kept waking me up.  I don't know what it is; actually, I do - the uncertainty of my future.

I don't know how I will manage financially although I'm okay for right now; I don't where I'll be living in a few months; my children trouble me; my upcoming visit to the family puts me ill at ease; the struggles with my love; and then there's my weight; my computer troubles, my car goes on and on.

I've been super sensitive to death and dying. It's everywhere and it's disturbing. Some of it is nature but even that makes me cry. Don't sit me in front of a television to watch the story of how certain hawks work together to snag a hare. I had to switch the channel and yet at night I tune my attention to Criminal Minds before going to sleep and the last imagery I have is of some form of serial torture and murder. I get enough from the news.

Hmmm. Perhaps no more television just before bed. It certainly doesn't relax me. I haven't been able to read either. I need to check out the books I've chosen and gravitate toward something a little less depressing and more uplifting. I'm not in the mood for cheery - nothing is cheery in the world today.

Is it my mood that brings to me all things depressing or is it the depressing things I take in in one form or another that saturates my mood.  The chicken or the egg???

I've been a nasty bitch lately.

Tuesday, October 05, 2010

my dad

I was remembering my father last night and this morning.  Remembering how much I loathed his very existence and how he disgusted me. And then I remembered how talented and creative he was and how everyone, with the exception of moi, loved him. And many feared him as well - his raging tempers and alcohol-fueled cruelty and abuse. He was such a harmful man. His wife hates him, I'm sure.

I heard from my sister-in-law that he is done being alive. Oh, he's still breathing but he has given up on all those things that keep us human. I don't really know what that means - he can't care for himself and he can't talk and he can't walk. Is his mind completely eradicated by Alzheimers?

I'm a little afraid to see him. I know it will be emotional and it will be the end. There will be a finality to any hope of ever learning the truth from him, or forcing an apology (for I don't think it would ever come about willingly) or even procure a denial of his abuse.  There will be nothing ever again. He's gone, I believe, and with that any further confirmation or collateral  or confrontation by me of his abusive behavior toward me.

Maybe I'm lucky and maybe that's why I waited this long to do my healing work. This way I can forgive without ever looking into the eyes of the bastard that hurt me so.  The eyes that exist now in he who once was my father are vacant.  I'll know for sure when I look into them next week.

It doesn't sit well.

Monday, October 04, 2010

my purse is safe - at long last

I realized this morning that I didn't need to hide my purse anymore.  For the last 20 years I have never left my wallet or purse or car keys or credit cards or checks out in the open, especially if I wasn't home. Both my sons have stolen from me for drugs, mostly.

I don't have to hide anything anymore. I can leave anything out and not worry about its whereabout in the morning. It suddenly occurred me how very stressful living has been for me on so many levels. Oh my, it makes me cry.  I believe both my sons have grown up and are trustworthy but I can tell you, drug addiction is deadly to relationships, to life. 

I breathe a huge sigh of relief. I don't know how I survived.

Sunday, October 03, 2010

emotions are quiet at the moment

After a flurry of pleading, pathetic emails to my love, he finally responded with a phone call yesterday morning. It was a promising conversation; he was contrite and loving. He made no promises. I asked him if he believed there was a reason for me to hang on. He answered as he always does - I think if you... I said not me, you...tell me if YOU believe there's a reason, and he said yes. I asked if there was a reason for me to have hope. Yes, he told me. I want to believe. I am cautiously optimistic and yes, today I felt better emotionally. My loved called this morning to tell me he loves me and is really going to work at treating me with more respect and caring. Again, I hope so.

On another note, I heard today that my father has deteriorated. He can no longer dress himself or feed himself or go to the bathroom or speak. I will be heading south to see him in two weeks. I'm not sure how I will manage when I see him.

Saturday, October 02, 2010

it wasn't a slip of the tongue

She referred to me as her typist again.  This time she was talking to a board member and I walked in -- "oh, I really need to go, my typist is here."  Fuck her. My insides roiled with anger but I said nothing. When she finally hung up we carried on but I was seething inside. I wouldn't speak. I offered no opinions, no corrections, no help. Oh, I know it's a very immature way of handling things but I was already so upset over my love, I just couldn't instigate a confrontation. I was afraid I would lose my perfect composure.

At least she didn't call me a "sex-retary."  Maybe that's only for men to use.

it came back

That chronic ache in my gut in the middle of the night. It hasn't visited me in many months but last night it returned with a vengeance and it was digestive tract. No details are needed - if you've ever suffered from extreme anxiousness and unhappiness, you know what a dysfunctional gut is all about.

I couldn't sleep (not new). I was crying inside over my love and tossing and turning. Every now and then I would have a bout of acute trepidation and startle myself awake. What would life be without my love? Probably not very different as he isn't here anyway...but he is somewhere with me. I wrote him an email at 2:20 a.m. and tried to go close my eyes. That's when the next "it came back" came back.

I had hallucinations behind closed eyes. Maybe that's not the correct word used to describe what I visualized but that's how it appeared to me. It used to happen to me often in times of peak anxiety. I don't enjoy it and I don't like what it signifies in my life.

I guess this stress that is bearing down on me (over my love mostly) is taking more of a toll than I care to admit.

I can't go back. I have to focus on my wellbeing. It's upsetting enough to spend my days exercising my aching, arthritic hands. Hey, I'm not even close to 90!

Friday, October 01, 2010

broken record

Here I go again...crying the blues, spewing the same old vitriolic bullshit that overtakes my emotions every time my frustration and hurt levels come to a boil. The unfortunate thing that I hate to admit is that it will die down once he smooths things over with me. Although I don't know for sure that he will, I imagine [hope] he will and I will melt and all will be forgiven...until next time.  And each time it strips another little piece of my soul away.

So why do I do this to myself? Why can't I stand up to this man who treats me poorly more often than not these days.  What is this power he wields over me?

He sent me an email tonight and told me that he is deeply connected to me (in his marrow) and at the same time, I produce such extreme levels of anxiety in him that he can't be around me or even speak to me anymore. He got sucked into my life because he is a caretaker - it was a distraction from dealing with his own issues.  This I have always known and it hasn't just been me.  Up until the last 6-7 years or so, there had always been a cache of several other needy women waiting in the wings for his care. It made me nuts. I remember telling him once that he only loved me so he could fix me.  Strangely enough, I think it was a familar feeling - people invested in my fucked-upness -- so they could care for me and fix me. No one ever just wanted to love me for me.

Now, how sad is that?

Maybe if I had been loved for the goodness in me, I would lived life differently. But I can't blame others for my own undoing.