Archive for January, 2010

I spent the day having anxiety over this thing that I had to be at, where both of them were also going to be.  And a bunch of other people, many who were rather sympathetic to my cause.  Now I can kind of imagine what it’s like for people who live with anxiety disorders.  I spent the day worrying, the time leading up to the event unable to relax, completely on edge, ready to burst into tears at any second, and then after the thing that we all had to be at, which lasted around three hours, I tried to relax and let it go, but my mind went insane some more.

I kept it together but I did not sleep.  I woke up over and over again, each time removing myself from yet another dream that was directly related to the worrying that went on all day.

Important to note:  I did not start any fights.  I may have thrown a few dirty looks.  I may have departed from the drill and chased that bitch down.  (It’s roller derby so it’s kind of allowed.)  I looked good.  I walked away gracefully.

Or, the list of things I wish I had when I moved out of my ex husband’s house.

1.  Spice rack

2.  Salt and pepper shakers (akin to spice rack, but I dunno about you, in my world salt and pepper do not go on the same rack as oregano.

3.  Baking tins.  Muffin, loaf, cake, pie.  All of the above.

4.  Freezer containers.  Freezer bags.

5.  Meat thermometer.

6.  Furniture.  (This I got a LOT of, and I thank every last one of you who donated to my cause.)

Except for the last one, all these things are the kinds of stuff that I would have loved to receive in the breakup.  And I bet I’m not the only one who doesn’t want to spend money on this stuff.  I bought a salt and pepper shaker last week.  I’ve been in this apartment for eight months already.  Only tonight did I buy the peppercorns to go in it!

I’ve been absent, mostly because there is drama in my corner and I can’t write about it without looking like the biggest gossip on earth.  It’s not entirely my story to tell, too.

The short version is this:  The tables have turned.  Call it karma or irony, or even ironic karma.  They say that you go through the stages of grief in a breakup, similar to a death.  I’m not sure all the rules apply to every situation, but you might say that I’m in the angry stage right now.  Except I had already made my way to “Acceptance,” since I’m pretty sure I started processing the divorce way before he did, so I was like three steps ahead all along.

But what happens when your stages are interrupted by outside factors?  Like you’re recovering from the breakup and you meet someone else.  I don’t think that allows you to really process the breakup.  It just distracts you and suspends your emotions/processing machine in space.  And you enter into a new relationship all kinds of fucked up.  Now let’s pretend you do that over and over again.  Every.  Single.  Relationship is entered into under false pretenses.

And *I* was the one who lied?

Pigeons in a box.  I have a crazy urge to kill the pigeons.

I went on vacation.  Somewhere sunny and full of family.  I took my son.  It was nice and I reconfirmed yet again that I will never, ever be able to live anywhere near my family on a long-term basis.

I came home to a weekend of crap.  My ego and self esteem are damaged.  I am in a daze and trying not to punch walls, yell at friends, or cry in public.

I had dinner with the Crush.  Who right, I am done with.  Thanks for the reminder.  A new codename for him is in order.  The Friend Who is Very Cute.  TFWiVC.  That there is a lot of letters.  Very Cute Friend.  VCF.  VCF and I had dinner after an excessively stressful day.  He was hungry.  I needed a happy break.  I guess we both got what we needed out of that.

Today I returned to work after several weeks of not working.  I got a lot done and managed to forget about how much I hate myself right now.  And then I remembered.

I said I was letting it go.  That I had come to the realization that he just isn’t that into me.  That I was better than this and that pining for a boy who doesn’t feel the same is pointless.

And five days later he showed up at this thing that was sort of a makeshift birthday party.  And it all went out the window because omg he is cute.

I haven’t really talked about it here, but I guess it’s time.  I go through these cycles where my crazy ramps up.  Where my focus is lost, but where I have the motivation and eagerness to do anything.  Everything.  This cycle usually comes after some time of sitting around, doing absolutely nothing.  And if it weren’t for the fact that 50% of the time I have a toddler here, and I refuse to be a Crazy Mother, I might totally lose it and not keep my shit together.  But I’m pretty good and together and I know how to wake up and go to work every morning, so my crazy isn’t nearly as bad as one might think, especially considering the dramatic description I just gave it.

So I’m right now in the part of the cycle where I want to do everything:

• I have christmas knitting ALMOST DONE.  Finished right mitten last night.  Tonight I will tackle left mitten by re-working the pointy hand, and finishing off the finger and thumb.
• I agreed to a sock challenge next week.  The Hawaii Ironman sock challenge.  Which is ridiculous because I’m going on vacation, but not really, because I’m visiting family and skating in a derby tournament and visiting old friends, and taking my son.  So in between all of that I’m sure plenty of sock knitting is going to get done.  Uh huh.  Yeah joce, you’ve pretty much won it.
• I kind of want to CO for another sweater.  But shhh don’t tell anyone.
• I am currently obsessed with money blogs.  Specifically money blogs of single moms who don’t make a whole lot.  Basically women that I can identify with.
• Running a half and full marathon has always been on my list.  My mind is thinking half this year.  Like Harvest Half maybe?  Maybe not.  We will see.
• Shaun T, Insanity.
• Weight loss blogs, always my fav.
• Menu planning.  I’m determined to develop menu plans and shopping lists that don’t get old, that don’t cost an arm and a leg, and that my son will eat.  As a sidenote it turns out that he loves cucumber, tomato and zucchini, and will eat each of them raw.
• Time management.  Because whenever I get into this frenzy, time management and organization pops up and I feel the need to harness some energy and get myself in a place where I make lists and accomplish things.  A good friend of mine pointed me in the direction of David Allen’s Getting Things Done, and apparently it’s a whole cult that I wasn’t invited to back in the day.  Well I got my invitation.  And because I’m not spending money (see money blogs bit) I am weeding through info on the internet.  Not the same, I know, but I’ll buy the book at the end of the month provided I came in under budget.  Or you know, shell out the twelve bucks to renew my library card.  Which might actually be more than that, since I might have lost the card.  Because I am organized.
• Emotions?  I don’t know how to label this one.  I’m trying to deal with my insides a little bit.

Individually these things all sounds kind of healthy.  But taken on all at once?  My mind is racing and I’m having a hard time focusing on what exactly I should be doing right now.

It’s kind of my year and I’m getting excited about being in charge of me, about calling the shots and not having to justify my choices.  I’ve been staying up until 4 and sleeping in until noon, and holy hell is it fantastic.  I’m on vacation.  My office is completely closed from noon, December 24 and reopens 8AM Jan 4.  And I’ve taken until the 18th off as vacay.  So I’m soaking it up and loving it.

It’s 4 in the morning on Jan 1.  I meant to write this entry earlier, before Jan 1, about intentions and how I kind of believe in them now, because last year my big intention was that I would leave my husband.  And I did leave him, even though in the back of my head I didn’t know how that would ever be possible.

After a long long night of drinking, and sober, and movies, and obsessing, I have to write this down so I can get past it:  He doesn’t want me.  He doesn’t see me.  He likes me as a friend.  He doesn’t care that I get weak in the knees when I look into his hazel eyes.  That I see his crooked smile and laugh.  That I look forward, always, to the next time I will see him.  He really, truly doesn’t feel what I feel.

It doesn’t matter that he came over here and took apart a tv and did manly soldering and tried to make it work.  It doesn’t matter that he unloaded furniture when I made a crazy furniture purchasing trip to IKEA, with no plan as to how the hell I was going to get it all up to the third floor.  It doesn’t matter that he appears to really like me.  He does.  But that’s all it is.  He’s a nice guy and he likes me.  And he doesn’t want to sleep with me.

So this year, yes, my one big intention is this:  I am worthy of love.  Of meeting and getting to know someone who does care.  Someone who is just as excited to see me in the morning as I am to see them.  Someone who wants me to cook for them, who wants to know that I got home safely at night.  Someone who wants to kiss me as much as I want to kiss him.  I am worthy of love from myself.  I will exercise.  I will eat well.  I will hit hard on the derby track.  I will start running again.  I will pay down my debt.  I will finalize my divorce.  I will have IDs made with my maiden name.  I will read and write and take pictures and hike and live.  I will let go of this ridiculous crush that I’ve had for nearly two years.

I will show my son how strong women can be.

I will get in touch with my feelings.  I will not be intimidated by my mother.  I will not hold grudges against people who genuinely didn’t mean it.  I will sing.  I will go dancing.

In 2010 I will love myself.