December 2002 Archives

Oh, I feel it. Life really hurts sometimes.

One (of many) areas my husband and I differed in was sociality. Seven years I spent pretty much in isolation, because while I always wanted a social life--friends and acquaintences, to have people over, to go out--he wanted nothing of the sort. He always said, "People suck. They just disappoint and hurt you, every time." Days like today I can see his point.

I'm not going to give up on people, though. I'm not. I won't let this keep me down or alter the way I live life. But oh, it hurts!

As I told my six year old daughter when she inquired about my countenance, "It's very sad when a friend quits talking to you." Unfortunately with adults it isn't as simple as that and friends don't always resume playing with you at recess.

There are a few things I've been meaning to put in the blog, things worthy of three exclamation points. (It is my belief that one exclamation point is usually plenty; two is okay in casual use if really excited; but three is reserved for those moments of extreme elation.) Here goes:

My daughter lost her first tooth!!!

I found my favorite shirt!!! (I only got to wear it once before it was lost for over eight months. Repeated and exhaustive searches failed to dislodge it from its hiding place.)

I'm getting my car back!!! (This is miraculous.)

I got a bottle of Kahlua for Christmas!!!

Some blessed souls gave my children a wonderful Christmas morning!!!
Someone donated four (NICE) gifts to each of my children, things they needed as well as things they wanted. Who did this? I don't know. I am absolutely amazed that anyone could be so kindhearted, so generous, so caring-- to children they've never met! I am incredibly thankful. Gives me hope in humanity once more.

I just returned home from a lengthy psychological evaluation of my daughter. I'm not sure the guy heard another word that was said after the word "divorce". We've had difficulties with this daughter years before now, but this man decided instantly that the divorce is the root of all her problems. Her evaluation amounted to two hours of listening to the psychologist tell me and my ex how I never should have sought divorce in the first place, should have and ought to still opt for marital counseling, blah blah blah (all the while my ex is nodding his head in agreement).

I'm writing this equally angered and saddened. Do you really think it never occurred to me that divorce is hard on the children? (If someone tells me that one more time I'm going to scream for the entire world to hear, "YOU THINK I DON'T KNOW THAT ALREADY?") Do you really think I didn't know or do you just take pleasure in stinging me with the reminder? Is it that you think I don't care, that I value my own happiness above my children's? Do you not know that I would, I would give up the entire rest of my life and all it encompasses-- my freedom, my free will, my desires, my happiness, all control over what happened to me, and everything that makes me who I am-- for my children? I'd give up everything for them. I did it for many years and I'd have continued to do so if it would bring them happiness, if it was in their ultimate best interest. If it seems that I'm exaggerating then you don't know from where I've come. What makes you think that you know my marriage?

Stop assuming this is a decision I made lightly and hastily. It was far from either. Is four years of trying desperately not adequate enough to keep you from speaking to me with that condemnation in your voice? Do you think doing everything in my power to make this marriage work wasn't good enough?

What makes you think I like divorce? I'm quite possibly more pro-marriage than you are, but I've learned it is possible for what you've left behind to be worse than the horror called divorce.

There was a time when the only comfort to my tears was the promise I made to myself that I would never let anyone do that to me again. Although it was hard to do because I didn't believe I deserved it, I set out with the expectation of being treated with respect. So now I demand you treat my decision with respect and I refuse to let you instill doubt in me. I refuse to let you judge my life, my judgment, and my abilities. I've worked hard over this past year to become a person who has a life, who is allowed to exercise her judgment and who trusts her abilities. I've become a real person again. For the first time in 25 years, this life is MY life. So take all your "knowledge" and judment elsewhere: this is MY life and I'm in charge. What I do with it is my choice, and solely mine, and I'm wholly capable of living it well.

Life is really getting into this challenging me thing (see previous entry).

I type this with shaky hands and a pounding heart.

I jinxed myself. You know, the summer I bragged that I'd never been stung by a bee ended with me having been stung many times, so I should have known better than to write such an upbeat blog entry as the previous one.

It seems as if Life read that and thought it'd put my positivity to the test. (Gee, thanks.) Diagnosis on my car: not good. Very not good. I've made a thousand phone calls today and it looks to be quite a convoluted situation. If it ends with me having to pay any money, add a few more "very"s on to the "very not good".

Don't be sad, blog! You've been in my thoughts quite often since we last spoke. I'm not entirely sure why it took a few days for me to get back, but I'm here now, aren't I?

I've thought about writing of many things, for example, the way I returned to Walmart and met those "sad" things with a smile. The emotions I felt watching my daughters' Christmas programs. The thoughts I've had about my children, my upcoming trial, the meaning of failure, and my own self-worth. The way I'm trying to approach life "as an experience to be lived through, not merely survived through"; how I'm attempting to wake each morning with the knowledge that I've opened my eyes to a special day that holds wonderful things for me. (Oh so corny, but oh so essential.)

Then there are the realizations I've made about who I am and why; where I want to go and how I'll get there; that although the high standards I hold for myself seem necessary, they're really self-defeating. I thought of telling the things I've accomplished lately or the goings on in my life, like putting up the Christmas tree and finishing my semester of school. Although I'm doing well, there have been plenty of struggles of various kinds I could speak of.

But what to say? Everything or nothing at all?

I'm plagued by the question I mentioned in a previous post-- why am I writing this blog? A large part of the answer is "I just want you to know who I am" (see if you can name that song!). The thing that bothers me about this question is that I can't think of a single reason for this blog's existence that isn't somehow self-centered. I'd like for people who come here to "get something out of it", to benefit in *some* way, but I really wonder if I have anything to offer.

I'm probably going to sleep in the living room tonight. Know why? Because the idea of crawling into that big empty bed (in a big empty room on a big empty floor) is entirely too lonesome of a thought! It's okay. My new sleeping buddy is a teddy bear whose sweater reminds me that "you are loved". Under that blanket of reassurance we will cuddle and sleep, teddy nestled in my arms, with warm thoughts and the hope of awaking with a smile.

Weathered, by Creed

I lie awake on a long, dark night
I canÌt seem to tame my mind
Slings and arrows are killing me inside
Maybe I canÌt accept the life thatÌs mine
No I canÌt accept the life thatÌs mine

Words taken from a page of quotes of "best things to say", hodgepodged together as I pleased:

"I'm sorry you're having to go through this. I care about you, care about your life and what you're feeling. I know how hard it must be, and though I may not be able to really fully understand what you are feeling, I can offer my compassion. I am not going to leave you. When all this is over, I'll still be here, and so will you. I can take care of myself, so you don't need to worry about me, or that your pain might hurt me. Hold onto my hand during this storm and I'll do my very best to keep you from slipping away."

I just read a blog that was everything-I-wish-mine-was. I wish I could offer that here, but I don't think I have anything to give you. I'm sorry. (Why I keep writing, I don't know.)

I've had a serious and frightening revelation today, the kind that is life-changing (or life-shattering, depending on how you look at it). I'm sorry I can't share it publically, but know that it's never far from my thoughts. Ever encountered that thunderous cloud of cacophany? Somber, overcast emotions, swirling like a den of rattlers, with their ominous reminder of Unknown. You may not look up and see it overhead but you can't avoid seeing the shadow it casts wherever you go.

Every once in a while a song really strikes me, makes my eyes go wide, mouth open, hand to heart, and I feel that "Ohhh!" in my soul. "Oh wow."

I highly recommend this song.

To me, this is real poetry, and real music. Beautiful.
Click "MORE" for lyrics.

I feel like I'm on a constant caffeine high. It's great! Whooooeeeee!

Okay, I'm not quite that bad, but it's downright funny at times. I've gotten more done today than I have in the past few weeks combined (although that doesn't say much).

I'd forgotten how much work proper parenting is. My oh my. I've worked my tail off today, I'll say that.

And I could say a great deal more, as talkative as I feel, but really, I ought to spare you!

**(UPDATED)**

I thought a trip to buy a Christmas tree would cheer me up yesterday. I've always loved Christmas time and all its little wonders much as little kids do.

Oh, it was sad.

I am going to live life.

What does that mean? Well, I get to define it for myself. I have been given the gift of life, and only I can decide what to do with it.

I'm going to do whatever it takes to be able to live--to truly live, as I define it.

Lyrics from "For You" by Staind

I sit here locked inside my head
Remembering everything you've said
The silence gets us nowhere,
Gets us nowhere way too fast.

Guess who's come around again?

For those of you in the know, one guess.

All sweetness and compliments. Begging. The timing is almost creepy.

For the first time in the history of the blog I have nothing at all to say.

Lyrics from "Old Man River" by Jim Croce

"I get weary, sick of trying
'cause I'm tired of living
but I'm scared of dying
and Old Man River, he just keeps rolling along."