Trying to Keep the Up

I'm trying very hard right now to keep my spirits up. I keep trying to remind myself that I truly am a very lucky woman, in oh-so-many ways. Due to this busy time of the year I haven't been sleeping well. I'm going to sleep okay, but waking at 3 or 4 in the morning, wide awake. If I do sleep, I'm having weird dreams. Weirder than usual, I should say. I usually dream and often remember them, so the dream in itself isn't the odd part. I just seem to feel I'm walking around tired all the time and I'm not shaking it off.

I know that's not helping.

Compound it with not being a morning person in the first place. Then add a daughter that, from no fault of her own, asks a lot of questions. I love her. Don't get me wrong. My patience is just not good right now. She is still trying to put things into place after having some TCE treatments (yes, I spelled that wrong, it is backwards so it doesn't accidently show up in a search). She is a bit frustrated at the moment with the rest of the family because she feels we are all snapping at her and thinking she is a pain behind her back. Partly, that is true, but not because of the questions but because of the other things that she's pulled lately. (See previous posts as well.)

Case in point? I just found out she went and had coffee with a man she met on Craig's list three weeks ago. WTF? What part of "chill out... give it time... learn to live with yourself first"... doesn't she get? I'm so worried she's going to get mixed up with the next loser and because she is so desperate to be taken care of, she'll 'fall' quickly. I know she wants to be out on her own. She talks constantly about looking for apartments and things like that. She hasn't even gone back to work yet! Let alone, gotten through the winter - her bad time. The bad weather hasn't hit, which usually triggers it, and she is already thinking about all the wonderful things she's going to do.

I think I just need some jammies days... some alone time... and some chocolate. Chocolate is good.

3 a.m.

Seriously? Yeah. I was wide awake this morning at 3 a.m. This was after working Saturday from 5:30 a.m. (up at 4:30) to 6 p.m. and yesterday from 6 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. Wow, you say! You got off early yesterday! Yeah. I got off "early" to go home and make scalloped potatoes and ham to put in the oven, did laundry, and paid bills.

So why am I so wide awake so early this morning? No clue.

All I know is it is now 8:15 and I'm tired... and will probably be working until 6 p.m. at least.

Have I mentioned I fucking hate this time of year?

yeah.

I Need a Wife... or Something

I've mentioned this before, but I could sure use a wife. Especially in this, the busy season.

I work in the agricultural field. My hubs and I also farm (grain crops only, no livestock). In the fall I am busier than... well, you fill in the blank with whatever comes to mind for horrifically busy.


I now have extra bodies living in my house. Bodies that need to be fed at scheduled times. The boy is used to eating at, say, 6 o'clock or there abouts. Since my children are grown and gone (well, kinda) my hubs and I have gotten used to being very flexible about dinner time. We eat when it works. If he is in the field, he may not get home until 8, 9 or even sometimes 10 o'clock. If it gets too late for me and I get light-headed and need to eat, I'll go ahead and eat. If it is something I've prepared, say, a casserole, then I'll save the rest for him and heat it up when he gets home. Otherwise, if I can wait, I'll wait for him and we'll eat then. If it is something that needs to be eaten right away, I won't make it on a night when I think there is a chance he'll be late. If it is something fast, say, grilling a steak, then I'll just wait until he gets home to fix it while he's in the shower. Get the idea?


When my daughter and the boy moved home and I told her that we were very irregular in our eating patterns and that she should just go ahead and cook and either keep warm the leftovers and we'd eat them as we got around to it, or to just eat what they wanted and we'd fix something when we got home. I know money has been tight for her, so I've not said anything as the grocery bill has tripled and things magically appear on the list that I've not even touched (i.e. cookies).


As of yesterday (about three days ago as I write this) I have yet to see her take the initiative on dinner. I got home last night at 5:30 after leaving the house at 6 a.m. to go to work. I have been working all day. Hubs has been working. All day. Daughter? Has been... doing...? All. Day.


I was pissed. I got home and there wasn't meat thawing to cook, nothing on the stove, not a glimmer of an intent to cook. None. I was tired and really angry. I mentioned perhaps she could get out a carton of homemade spaghetti sauce from the freezer and thaw it and make spaghetti for supper. I heard her banging around as I was getting the dogs out and I happened to hear Hubs say something to her about cooking. Her comment? "I don't like to cook". I like his response... "You like to EAT don't you?"


I mean, seriously. I'm doing all the grocery shopping, paying for it, etc., and she is living at our house free. 100% FREE. You would think maybe she would want to pitch in a bit? Yes, she has been doing the dishes every night (we have a dishwasher... she's never had one. Hardship? I think not.) I have thanked her for that and told her I appreciate it. But really? I just want her to take care of her own child and get dinner around for him and so on and so forth. Is that too much to ask?


On a last note... this morning Hubs woke me up banging around the house at 4:30. (Stupid time change still has us screwed up). He came into the bedroom and wanted to know if I had a key to the house. WTF? Uh, yes, I do... why? Because someone had locked the doors (inside and one to the garage) to his bathroom... and no one was in there. Now, I suspect it was the boy, but really? Why would you DO that? Not a good way to start the morning. Thank goodness the key worked, as we hadn't ever tried it on that door before...


This whole having people living with us may be the death of me yet...

Back to the Normal Ranting

Well, now... that was a nice interlude. Thanks for putting up with me spewing, but that was something I really had been wanting to get off my chest for awhile. A few people in the blog world had heard bits and pieces, but I'm not sure anyone really got the whole resolution to it ... and I didn't want to say it all "over there" where family and all read it. I mean, there is a point of TMI where family is concerned, don'cha know?



So now I have a couple other things recently bugging me. Why is my other blog infected with some sort of maleware? ARRRGH. Seems this has happened before and I just don't get it. Is it coming in on comments? I don't know where it is coming from! I got my computer guru that runs the site to look into it and he thought he got it fixed, but when I go there I still get an error message that scares the bejezus out of me, so I leave immediately. I went through a stupid maleware infection last spring and that was a pain in the ass, so don't really want to go through it all again... grrr.



Guess in the interest of having something to post about I'll save the next rant for the next post.



What? You don't do the same thing?

Changes Pt. 7

So he came to my parents... and he was wonderful. Better than I ever expected. He was so patient with my mother (she can be trying in the best of times). He was so helpful and kind and loving. He tells me he was so happy just to be with me that it wasn't a problem.

I know he loved me ... and held me when I cried because I'd had to be the one to decide to move my dad to hospice. I didn't cry when my dad died... or since... but I cried that night. That was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. He was there for me.

...


Since then? What can I say... Our love is stronger than ever, fortified by a closeness that we hadn't had for years. Now he makes a point of suggesting "shall I take a pill"?... at least a couple of times a week, and when a week goes by when I'm sick and I'm trying to stay away from him so I don't make him sick and I don't kiss him or hug him and barely touch him, trying to keep the germs to myself? He misses me. He really misses me.


What I started to say a week ago with my first "Changes" post? Now that we're back to "connecting", it's become a different animal, what with all these people living in our house now...All I'm saying...


So it's gotten to be quite an interesting time of it... my husband and I are basically sneaking around our own house to find times to make love. Me? I'm really lucky to get this second chance with the love of my life. I'll make it work.... it's worth it.

(Thanks for following along. To answer a comment on the timeline of this, I jumped a bit going into my past where things went to hell in 1995 with my breakdown, then jumping forward 14 years with the "dry spell" as I call it... and finally, bringing you to the future with my last year beginning in December of 2008 with my dad's fall and up to today. Sorry to jump around so.)

Changes Pt. 6

Those of you who come from the other blog know all this, but those of you who don't...

My father fell on the concrete garage floor in the afternoon of December 11, 2008. He was unconcious for a few seconds, and my mom called the EMT's. They came, got him up and into the house, but he refused to go to the ER. A few hours later he was getting more and more drowsy, slurring his words, etc, and finally told her to call them back before he lost conciousness once more ... and never recovered.

He was on a blood thinner and had bleeding on the brain from his fall. He had surgery that night to relieve pressure, but he never did come out of the coma and was in intensive care for over a month on a vent and all his signs deteriorated to the point we finally had to move him into Hospice and withdrew extreme care until he passed away a week later.

During this time, my mother also fell and broke a rib and punctured her lung, being hospitalized a few floors from my dad.

When she got out of the hospital she couldn't care for herself, so I moved out of town to stay with her. At that point, my husband and I had been getting closer than ever and he had looked into more medication - which, ta-da! , worked. After I'd been at my mom's for three days and trying to care for her, still taking her to the hospital daily to visit my dad (not yet put into hospice) and long-distance caring for my family and husband (all my kids are grown by now - thank goodness) - it became a flashback for my husband and he was going into panic mode. He called up my daughter and started going on and on about how this was just like California and I was never coming back... etc. He talked to her for three hours and she was trying to get him theoretically "talked off the ledge".

On that third day I accepted that he was not going to last much longer at home without me. I just had known how much he hated hospitals, so knew he'd be bored stiff just sitting around dad's room waiting for him to wake up...



...to be continued...

Changes Pt.5

Almost fourteen years, to be exact.


There were a few times when I had some alchohol and got nerved up enough to try and approach him, but he wasn't having any of it. He basically told me the last time I'd tried to talk to him about it that he had zero sex drive.


I was crushed.


I loved this man. I was so attracted to him. I felt he loved me... and he said he loved me... but the rejection was in such conflict to this I didn't know what to think or feel. I would hear of people who had gone for weeks without sex and how they felt like they were missing out. I would try and think of it like he's been in an accident and can't do anything any more... I would justifiy it to myself in one way or another. But he wouldn't even be close. He would give me a peck on the lips to say goodbye or good morning, but no long lingering kisses... and I loved his kisses... No cuddling, not more than a hug standing in the kitchen... no curling up next to me at night, spooning, feeling his body pressed up next to me. Nothing. I felt like I was living with my brother. We'd moved into a new house, we were having the 'good life'... and we'd never even made love in our new house!


I talked to fellow bloggers and a few friends who were sympathetic and several who told me I should move on, that I wasn't so old that I couldn't find happiness elsewhere. I was told I was beautiful and sexy and funny and I didn't deserve this. I appreciated the votes of confidence... but I was still in love with this man. Deeply.


Finally, and perhaps fatefully, I sat him down one day last December and told him I was to the end. I couldn't go on like this. I didn't tell him I was going to leave, or find someone else, or threaten him in any way... I just told him this was my last effort to connect with him. That it was too important to me. That I needed him to be with me... physically... even if he couldn't "perform" or "complete the act" or whatever you want the term to be... I just needed him to be close to me again.


To this day I am not sure what I said that finally got through, but it did. We both ended up crying and holding each other and committing to trying to make it work... and not an hour later my mom called to tell me my dad was in the hospital and then the whole world tilted on it's axis again...

...to be continued...

Changes Pt.4

He tells me when he got off the plane he didn't know what to expect. He didn't know what I'd meant by my cryptic message. He soon found out. I was smiling. I was confident. I was... happy.

We spent another week in California together. A vacation we'd not had since we had been married, 10 years. We did the touristy things and we went to my Aunt's and had the conversation I intended on having. I got the answers to my questions and it helped.

Throughout this whole time, my husband had been trying everything to keep from losing me, which is what he thought was happening. He made love to me with a passion he'd never had before... and kept his solid, thoughtful, loving spirit close by should I need him.

After we got back, things settled into more of a normal pattern for a few weeks. I then hurt my back and had to have surgery which caused some disruption of our love life. It seemed after that, things just went... cold. I know my husband had some issues when I'd met him with confidence and had some ED issues... but I was okay with that. I mean, geez... guys have all this pressure to perform and it isn't like they can fake it or hide it like a woman can. (Not that I do, I want to make that clear.) It is just a fact of life and I would guess more men have issues than care to want anyone to know.

At any rate, it seemed all the stress and the fear of losing me had really given his confidence a hit and he withrew... gradually, it seemed, then it just came to a screeching halt. When I would approach him he'd be tired, or not interested, and a couple of times he even said he had been so hurt thinking I was leaving him when I went to California that it really crushed his libido. That, of course, played on my own guilt for putting him through all that... so I would meekly turn away and not push the issue.

A year went by.

I asked him to talk to the doctor about getting medication to help. He did... and tried the little blue pills. Nothing. They did nothing. He got up the nerve to ask the doctor for something else, but the confidence went away and the others he was given sat in the nightstand unused.

For years.

...to be continued...

Changes Pt.3

I left.

My husband was frantic. He called my Aunt who hadn't heard a word from me and had no idea I was coming. I hadn't told him that I had not been able to make connections with her yet, but that I just had to get out of the house. He was hovering, the kids were worried, everyone was going into such a protective mode that I couldn't breathe. I just needed to drive... to leave and let my mind go where it would.

For the first time in my life I had to depend on me. I had never pumped my own gas! I had to figure out where to go and when to stop and where to stay that wouldn't get me mugged or worse. I had to spend time just with me and my own thoughts.

By the time I got to California I was truly a new woman. I was so much more confident. Amazing what three days of being alone can do to you. I came to the conclusion that it was NOT my fault I'd been raped. That it was NOT my fault my parents were alchoholics. That it was NOT my fault I look and act just like my biological mom and was a constant reminder to my father. I decided before I even hooked up with my Aunt that no matter what she told me that I was going to forgive my parents and move on. I knew that they had re-written history already in their own minds and whatever I accused them of would be a mystery to them... they wouldn't have a clue what they'd done, for in their minds they had done nothing wrong.

My frantic husband begged me every time I called home to tell him where I was. To tell him he could come join me. Finally, after I got to California and had my epiphany, I told him yes. He could join me. He was on the next flight he could get on. I warned him I was a different person than the one who had left.

He was terrified.

...to be continued...

Changes Pt.2

The darkness overwhelmed me.

I couldn't eat, sleep, function. I stayed home from work "sick" and spent all my days and nights in chat rooms on the computer, trying to figure out what I was... who I was... I found some support groups but most of them were trying to move on to a point where they were looking for someone to connect with. A goal I didn't have in mind. I already had someone to connect to... I just couldn't bring myself to tell him what had happened in my head, that the box had fallen off the "shelf" and the rotting horrible things about my life had spilled all over and I wasn't having very much luck cleaning it up. I was terrified if I told him that he would leave me.

Finally, after several weeks and trying to make sense of it all, I sat him down and told him.

As I've heard others say many times, although this had happened to me many years before, at the moment I told him, it had just happened to him. He had a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that I'd never told him about it before. He hates secrets and I had kept a whopper away from him.

To his credit, he was wonderful. Sweet, loving, kind, and tried so hard to understand what I was going through. I know I terrified him with thoughts of suicide, divorce, just running away and never looking back. I wasn't trying to outrun him or my family... I was trying to outrun myself.

I got it in my head that I needed to talk to my Aunt in California. She was my biological mom's sister and the only one who was around when I was very young. I got it in my head I wanted to know if my father had been the same way with her - if he'd always been this bitter and cruel, or if it was only with her death (very young, from complications of polio). I hadn't decided yet at that time if I was going to confront my parents with the things they'd done to me, or if I was going to just forgive them and move on. I needed more information.

I decided to drive to California from the middle of the country. A three-day drive. I had never been alone on any kind of a trip before. This was going to be terrifying.

To top it off? The therapist my husband had talked me into seeing said that he was being too involved and that he (my husband) was trying to 'fix' me too badly. That I needed to do this myself, so that I was not to tell him where I was, but I could call and re-assure him I was okay.

Therapists suck.

...to be continued...

Changes Pt.1

This whole thing with family moving back into the house changes the dynamic. I'll be honest. I'm not sure I like it. Don't get me wrong, I love my daughters and my grandson and I am thrilled to be in a position to have a house big enough to provide shelter for them and a pantry full enough to fulfill their requirements.

It just interferres with my OCS. (Only Child Syndrome, for those of you who don't know me).

A major... uh... hiccup... has been in my love life. Okay, for those of you who want to leave now, I'll understand. Honest, no hard feelings. I may get a bit TMI for some of you. I gotta get it off my chest, tho', so here goes.

I love my husband. Dearly. Passionately. Completely. Several years ago I went through what I call a nervous breakdown. I'm not sure if that was the technical term, but that's what it amounted to. As a child I went through some abuses, both physical and mental, from un-officially-diagnosed alchoholic parents. This led to terribly poor self esteem, which cycled me into a bad marriage, more bad choices and culmunating in a gang rape. Obviously, this is the Cliff Notes version.

I was lucky enough to meet a wonderful man, my current husband, and my life turned 360 degrees to a better direction. Unfortunately, all the things you hear about not dealing with troubles in your life will come back to bite you in the butt... well, it's true. I never told my husband about the rape, or some of the more awful things in my life. I tried very hard to put it all in a box and hide it away in my private place and not let it rule my life. It was ugly and rotting and from time to time there was seepage and I had a hard time containing it. I became ugly and bitter and a horrible mom and wife during those times.

In early 1995 I was brought to my knees after spending a full week at my parents' home over the holidays. My father was in full 'mean' drunk mode and since I no longer lived with them, he now had turned all his anger toward my mom. Suddenly I found myself defending her... who, in the past, had been just as mean and bitter as he had been.

It woke me up to the past and threw me headlong into a deep dark hole of depression I wouldn't climb out of for months.

...to be continued...

Fighting the Darkness

I'm struggling with the darkness. Again.

Logic tells me I'm in a great place, in a great time of my life. I should be happy. I read blogs of loss, of breakups, of death and illness and heartache and fear... and short of a cold, I have none of those. I should be happy. My own daughter is struggling with a painful divorce and trying to get back on her feet and find her own way in the world again. I am loved and protected and needed and wanted and blessed to have a man who has stood by me through the good and the bad. I should be happy.

I can't say these things on my other blog. The one he can read. The one my loved ones read. It feels selfish and awful to admit that I should be happy... but ...I'm not. There is something keeping me from it and I can't even put my finger on the 'it' that is the problem.

Bear with me while I muddle it around in my brain awhile longer... perhaps talking it out will soothe the beast. I can't talk about it with him because he goes into self-protection mode. He's scared to death that I'll go back into that unforgiving night and leave him alone. I know he has no time or patience for any kind of professional help... and I wouldn't know the first place to start. The last time I went to a therapist she was way more screwed up that I was!

I feel guilty for this way I feel... a vicious cycle of feeling bad... for feeling bad.

I should be happy.

If You've Seen My Mind, Send It Back

No, I'm not really losing my mind... not in the normal sense of the word. I am just having pangs of mortality. I'm not THAT old, but I find as time goes on I'm having more and more brain farts. You know, you have something on the tip of your tongue - or the edge of your brain, more likely - and it just won't come out. I have always been fairly quick-witted and pride myself on the amount of won't-make-me-a-dime trivia I have always known. Life lint. The itsy bitsy little things that somehow get stuck in the crevices of my brain that I have always been able to pull out at a moments' notice. Now? Not-so-much. I have to stop and think about it... or start playing the 'relationship' game with my spouse or one of my kids. You know, "they were in that movie with what's his name "... and his name starts with a "D". Then they say something else that triggers the name to pop out of hiding.

Lately, I find myself depending more and more not on my own brain, but on the internet. It is so much easier to google the movie I thought they were in or the one I'm currently watching to remember what else they've been in or "where have I seen them"...

I have turned into a cheat.

Even with all that? I am losing it. The other night I was watching a show with my daughters and I was so sure that one of the characters had played a certain part in another show that I bet my daughter $20 on it.

I looked it up.

I was wrong.

Do you know what that did to me? I mean, seriously. Me. I'm the one who knows these things. Now it isn't just about the speed of response, or the fact that I even am aware of the connections that are there to be made... now I am wrong even when I'm SURE I am right.

How depressing.

New Music Monday

I didn't get too many suggestions last week. C'mon people... what are you listening to? I am sick, have been in bed all weekend in an effort to get over it (it obviously didn't work), and I need some cheering up.

Anything?

No Brainer

A woman has been caught embezzling money from her company. A life insurance company. Ironically, my parent's life insurance company. Almost 6 million dollars. Now it comes out she spent a great deal of it on political campaigns and candidate issues.

One of the politicians she gave money to was recently notified and they immediately turned over their ill-gotten gains to charity.

WTF?

Maybe I'm missing something here, but if you know where the money came from, why didn't they give it back to the people she stole it from? I mean, it is THEIR money, right?

Ugh.

I am sick.

No, it is not H1N1 flu. I am not running a fever, so I am diligently at work.

I think it just my annual, seasonal cold brought on by stress.

Damnit.

New Music Monday

In an effort to break out of my same-old-same-old I'm starting a new weekly request. Every monday I would like you to tell me what you are currently listening to in the hopes I will expand the same-old playlists I'm listening to. Old, new, whatever it may be, I'm open! One...two...three... GO!

Crazy 8's - meme

Yes, I'm gonna continue this schizo behavior and post some things on both sites... just so you know. I'm too lazy to come up with something new on both sites all the time! Geez!

8 Things I’m Passionate About:

1. My Family. They are each individual in personality and desires and I admire and love each of them.

2. My Critters. Yeah. I know. They are "only" animals, right? Wrong. They are very much a part of my life.

3. Reading. I've mentioned before that I can usually go through a book every day or so. Hubs' teases me the library is going to run out one of these days. I've been a reader since I can remember – sneaking around at night reading by any glimmer of light I could get, be it from the streetlight outside my window or the dial of my radio or the little bulb lighting up my electric blanket.

4. Computers. They frustrate me on some levels but on others they challenge me and I like that. I enjoy a good 'fist pump' when I solve some stupid problem that I know I should be able to get but struggle with. When it all works? YES! I've never had any formal training in the things, but for the most part I have a logical enough (Spock-brain?) mind to "think" like the machine. I always thought it would be fun to take some computer courses sometime and see what it is I really don't know…

5. Writing. Along with reading, I've been writing since I can remember. I never kept any sort of a formal "journal" until the blog stuff started, and you probably think since I've been so fits-and-starts this last year that I'm petering out, but I just have this urge to get things out on paper. As an only child and one who spent loads of time alone and had lots of frustrations in my world, I used it as a great escape to vent, dream, and venture into my own head. Probably if I hadn't been writing it all out I may have ended up with way more mental problems along the way. Just a guess.

6. Crafts. Although I feel very passionate about the crafty type things I like to do, my dilemma is I have tooo many of them that I enjoy. I rubber stamp, sew, crochet, knit, cross-stitch, paint, dabble in photography… and have the supplies and attending 'crap' to prove it. As a matter of fact, Hubs calls my "craft" room my "crap" room. He's more right than I care to admit.

7. Gardening. I don't know if this is a passion or just one of those things I can't seem to stop doing to myself. Every spring I get all excited and plant stuff, then spend the summer getting sunburnt and aching muscles, and finally by the time fall gets here I am so sick of it all I can't even put the gardens "to bed" properly. (Fellow gardeners know what that means.) It is rather like my enjoyment of cross-stitch. I really don't enjoy the process, I just enjoy the end result.

8. Cooking. Passion? Not sure if that's the right term for it, but I do enjoy it. My favorite is when the wind is howling and there is snow on the ground and I have the fireplace going and am whipping up some soup or stew and bread and some yummy dessert… and the house smells so good. Excuse me, I have to go wipe the drool off now.

8 Things I Want To Do Before I Die:

1. Write a book or two.
2. Get my photographs organized
3. Go to Ireland
4. Get all the crap out of my house and have the things left well-organized so my family doesn't have a horrible job ahead of them dealing with it all once I'm gone
5. Retire and spend time using all those craft supplies
6. See all my children happy, healthy and at peace - whether it be in a relationship or not.
7. Be sure that everyone I love knows I love them.
8. I'd like to meet some bloggers…you know, in REAL LIFE.

8 Things I Say Often:

1. Shit.
2. What's up?
3. WTF!?!
4. Fuck.
5. Me too! (Hub's and my ever-so-secret code for I love you)
6. You're kidding.
7. Dumbass
8. Bullshit.

(I cuss a lot, don't I?)

8 Books I’ve read recently: (I'm not answering this because they all blur together. Go to any Amazon or Borders Bookstore website, click on the first eight books you see in either mystery, horror, or fiction categories and I will have read them.I will however, list some of my favorite authors.)

1. Stephen King
2. Dean Koontz
3. Lee Childs
4. Patricia Cornwell
5. Michael Connelly
6. David Baldacci
7. James Patterson
8. Jonathan Kellerman

8 Songs I Could Listen To Over And Over: (Again, I have music running most of the time and can't pick on song as they change. I'll just list some favorite musicians.

1. October Project
2. Sheryl Crow
3. Nickleback
4. Linkin Park
5. Five for Fighting
6. Diana Krall
7. Sarah McLachlan
8. Dave Matthews Band

8 Things That Attract Me To My Best Friends: (Friends? What are those?)

1. No bullshit.
2. No bullshit.
3. No bullshit.
4. No bullshit.
5. No bullshit.
6. No bullshit.
7. No bullshit.
8. No bullshit.

Feel free to do this...although it was sitting in my drafts folder since 2007, so you probably did it already... a long, long, LONG time ago.

Put Those Down Before You Hurt Somebody

Friday. She and I talk. She tells me how good he was the whole time and that he was concerned about her health since she didn't appear to be well. That was why he made her drive 20 miles to talk? Apparently.

He offers to help her move. She's already lined up her ex-husband to help, but another strong body is always welcome. She knows they will tolerate each other. No blood will be shed. Moving on Saturday morning.

She's loading everything into an enclosed trailer that will then be taken to my mother's to be unloaded and things stored in her basement. Plans are made to leave most of the appliances and a lot of the big, heavy pieces of furniture are second-hand and not worth lugging around to the next place they land. Her hubs had already taken sofa, tv, and his computer (of course) and whatever else he wanted, so all that remained were hers and her sons' things and a lot of items had already been given to charity or pitched. "So much for my wedding keepsakes" she said as she pitched them into a trash bag.

Friday night the handing over of the son to the grandparents went fine. Everyone is being civil and the grandparents love the child even if the husband doesn't. They'll meet again on Sunday to hand him back.

Saturday morning I go to work and she leaves to move. I tell her to be strong and it will go quickly and I'll call when I get off work to see if they still need help. She calls me about 1 o'clock in the afternoon to let me know they are done. All packed up. She has decided to go to her husband's place.

For the night.

WTF?

Fuckity fuck fuck fuck.

I can't think. I'm so disturbed, upset, disappointed. Not twenty four hours ago she was telling me how she had agreed with him that they would try dating, not living together, and no sex... to see if there was anything left to salvage. To give him an opportunity to show her if he could really make the leap to actually talk to her son, do things with him, get to know him- not just treat him like he was the family dog - all commands and orders and sarcasm.

Not twelve hours before she said she didn't know if the dating thing would even work because she really didn't think he could change. She thought his desire to always be right, to always be the 'man'... would keep him from being able to bend enough to change. She had told me how her son went off on her Thursday night because he was so worried... and how when she drove him to visit his grandparents she asked him if he missed Hubs. The son said, yes, he missed him and he loved him. She asked what he missed about him and he said, his cooking and the way he made them laugh. Interestingly enough, the son hasn't said one word to anyone else about missing him. When he stayed with us a week this summer, hubs' name never even came up. He talked about his mom, his dad, and other friends and family members but never once mentioned his step-dad. In talking to my daughter-in-law the other night she said the same thing. They'd kept the boy overnight one night and the only comment he ever made about that man was that the boy didn't like his jokes... that they made him feel bad.

I tried to explain to my daughter (who was reaching for hope, I know, and I crushed it - bitch that I am) that children are going to tell parents what they want them to hear. He sees her leave the other night in hysterics, knowing she is going to talk to him... then comes home all giddy. You can't tell me that he's not putting 2 and 2 together and coming up with "well, if he makes mom happy I'll tell her what she wants to hear".

She didn't want to hear it, but then she herself came up with examples of how the boy hasn't even cried or had any emotion where her hubs is concerned and with all the leaving and upheaval and moving... he's been fine. The only time he got upset was when she didn't let him know where she was and he was worried about her. The only time.

Now she was going to go spend the night with him? I was livid. I went to the field with my hubs and rode with him while they were combining ... and ranted. I didn't know if this was her way of "thanking" him for helping her move, or what? I was so frustrated. I stewed about it for hours... not getting back to the house until almost 10 pm.

Arriving home I find... she's there!?!? She changed her mind! She's crying and upset and kicking herself... but she's glad she changed her mind and didn't go. She said while they were moving she was watching him and seeing 'red flags' go up now and then, but was getting all hopeful and giddy when he suggested she come to his place. Finally, as she was putting gas in her car to go she realized what she was doing and just couldn't do it.

She's since told me she doesn't think it is going to work out. She doesn't think it is a good idea to even 'date' as it will just give him false hope. She wants to stay friends, if he will, but figures once she tells him that then he'll give her the cold shoulder and it will be a door closed. She says she's okay with that. She called him a couple of nights ago and told him. She said he seemed resigned and didn't even get upset. When she told her son that she wasn't going to 'date' or try and work it out with him, all son said was, "ok". No tears, nothing... just "ok".

Now if she can just keep on getting stronger and think about herself and her son.

I'm ready for this particular roller-coaster to be over.

This roller-coaster is a bitch.

Even More Sharp Pointy Sticks

Let's talk.

She came home and burst into my room crying hysterically and had been ever since he'd called.

"What if he wants to get back together?"

"What do I say?"

"It must be important or he would have talked to me on the phone!"

"Maybe he's reconsidering?"

"What do I do?"

Her son was in the other room, having witnessed his mom's meltdown all the way home. I reminded her that she was taking her son to visit the hubs' parents over the weekend and maybe he just wanted to make those arrangements? Maybe he wanted to talk about the car transfer situation? I tried to tell her there were 1000 different things he could be wanting to talk about, not to get all wound up about it.

She told me she'd call and let me know how it went and proceeded to fly out of the house.

Two hours go by. No word. Her son asks... "any word from mom?". I have to tell him no, but remind him they may have had a lot to talk about.

Three hours. Nothing. I don't want him to be worried and it is getting close to his bedtime and I hate to make him go to bed not knowing. I couldn't imagine him being able to sleep. I try to call her. No answer. Now my mind is going wild with thoughts. I pull myself back in and send her a text, "Son is worried. Call please". I wait fifteen more minutes and try to call her again. She answers. Chipper. Bubbly. "Oh, we went to McD's and I lost track of the time, we were talking... I'll be right home." M'kay.

She comes home and I don't get a chance to talk to her except to tell her goodnight. Her son has a few choice words, I hear later. He is not a happy camper.

Moving day two days away.

...to be continued...

More Sharp Pointy Sticks

So it's been a wild few weeks. My daughter and her son have moved into my house where they are gradually taking over the space, much to Hubs' dismay. She is a rather loud person and when she is rummaging around in the kitchen while Hubs is trying to watch TV (it is a 'great room'... all one space) he just keeps pushing the volume control higher and higher and hoping we're noticing.

She has been taking her son to school - in a neighboring town - then staying to work on packing and cleaning up their old house. When she's not been there, she's been at our house staying up all night reading and researching her options on the computer... and cleaning. The first day I came home from work she was all proud about the work she'd done in the kitchen, clearing my countertops off. Trouble was, she'd put the breads, cereals and snacks away where no one could fine them. Uh... oops. After we explained to her (nicely) why we had them all where we did, she made some joking comment about not ever doing that again and she may or may not have noticed that everything has migrated right back to where it was.

After her hubs came to the house and took all the stuff he wanted, he just left the rest for her to take care of. He has refused to even get out the bags and bags of trash she had already bagged up when she got in a cleaning frenzy before they even split up! I digress...

Through this all she's been second-guessing herself and wondering if she's making the wrong move. One day she is sure she is, the next she is calling him at 3 am to tell him she loves him... well, telling his voice mail, anyway. Yeah. He didn't respond to it either. She'd had to have meetings with him and the lawyer for the bankruptcy and foreclosure issues and to figure out how to split all their finances... and he was calm, cool and collected. Read, pissed off. He barely would give her the time of day.

Last weekend she didn't know if she was going to be able to handle moving. She's been feeling light-headed from her meds and I think the stress of it all has been wearing on her. On Thursday night she came home with her son and rushed into my bedroom having a hysterical crying fit. Her hubs had called the night before to tell her he would now come over and help her get the garbage out. She got off-plan when she had to go get her son's glasses fixed he broke that day and she waited for her hubs in his work parking lot just to let him know she wasn't at the house. He came out of work and didn't even recognize her at first. Then he asked if she was okay... she'd been crying and not at her best. She said yes and tried to blow it off as being stressed and tired and worried about the move and proceeded to bring her son to our house. On the way her hubs called and wanted to know if she'd be able to come up to the house and "talk".

What a can of worms those words opened up.

...to be continued...

Intermission

I have to say, I like the whole theme thing that Wordpress has going on, but when it comes to nuts and bolts I get frustrated by the number of times I've been shut out of my own blog (505 Error, eat me!) and the fact that I don't know how to do a fucking thing on there. I mean, seriously... I can't even put something on a sidebar. How lame am I that I have to pick on (a man who will remain nameless because it isn't HIS fault, either) to do every little thing on there?

yeah.

Just sayin...

Okay, carry on.

Warning: Sharp Pointy Sticks

For awhile I'll be referring to some of you as "the followers" and expect you to be bored by the subject matter while I get everyone caught up. Some of you who haven't been by the old site for awhile will not have to worry about being uninformed so you can just read along and hopefully find yourself now in 'the know'.

A few weeks ago my eldest daughter began the process of separating from her husband of seven years. She's had some problems the past few years with depression and anxiety and it has even gotten to the stage where she's had a couple of series of ECT treatments. The last one and subsequent medication seems to have her in a better place than she's been in for, say, fifteen years! Since recovering from this last series, for lack of a better way of putting it, she's "grown a backbone" and has stopped being the namby-pamby pliable woman that her husband married. He doesn't seem to like that.

In the weeks leading up to the separation, some things were said that could not be reversed. A real major problem is that he says he has no feelings for her son from her first marriage. He's been around this kid since he was 3 years old and tells daughter that he felt rejected by him in the beginning. Oh, and also, "he has a dad". Well, yeah... so? Did you even try getting to know him? I may be biased, but he's a terrific kid. We even joke in the family that he's an alien, he's so well behaved.

After leaving her and moving in with one of his buddies, and finally having some talks between them, he now tries to back-pedal and tell her that he just meant he didn't love him like a son, but he loves him like a little brother. Whatever.

I'm skeptical. I'm totally fried and frustrated with it all. This man was a rebound for my daughter, I know it, but he really seemed to try and win her heart... until he caught her. Then he reverted to the 350lb (400lb?) slob he is. He quit trying. He became the blob in the corner who played computer games all day and night and didn't even bother to pick up his soda cans or his filthy socks or food remains... until they collected in a heap of crap on and around his desk. (She cleaned it all once and got yelled at for 'touching his stuff'.)

Yes, he worked. He went to work except on the days that he felt he needed to stay home with is wife as she was recovering from her treatments. That's all well and nice, except it was a glorified babysitting job that several other family members offered to do just so he could go to work. It made a good excuse to stay home and play games, however.

A few weeks ago he gave her an ultimatum... three months. He now backpedals and says he didn't mean he was going to leave her in three months if she was having trouble. However, at the time he didn't clarify and he certainly didn't correct her when she asked him if that was what he meant. Three months from then would have put it dead in the middle of winter. Winter is notoriously her worst time for the depression to arise. So, he was going to wait until she was really in tough shape and then let her handle herself, her son, and, as it has turned out, her bankruptcy and home foreclosure?

What a nice guy.

...to be continued...

Welcome

To those of you who are coming by from my 'other' place, I thank you with all my heart for being willing to follow me into the abyss that is my mind. I appreciate you more than you know.

For those of you who are new to 'me'... well, I'll try and give you a brief run-down. (Those of you who know me from before can skip down to where the italics stop.)

I'm a middle-aged woman who has been divorced once, re-married for 30 years to a farmer, have two children by hubs #1 and two children by hubs#2, all grown. I have an 11-almost-12-year-old grandson, a bunch of critters (aka cats and dogs) - not to be confused with each other. I am an only child. I grew up in the biggest city in the state although we moved from place to place occasionally living in podunk areas as well. No, I'm not going to tell you what podunk means. Look it up. I now live in the country although not too far outside of a medium-sized town in the same state. I have had good times and better times in my life... and some pretty down-right shitty ones. Come along for the ride... it may not always be pretty and it may not be appropriate for the under-21 crowd. I have a tendency to tell things how they are when I get riled up. Suppose that's it. Consider yourself having read the disclaimer.

So, anywhoo...

Thanks again for coming by.

Beginning... Again

I have been blogging for several years. The first few were rather anonymous, then my family found out about it, then it became pretty open. This changed me. It made me censor myself internally to the point where lately I've been speechless. I need the outlet. I need to write. I need to get it out of my head and this is the only way I know how.

For now, the more public blog will stay up and I'll probably still post rather mundane things there, but here is where I will let my head and heart speak up once more. To those of you who have followed me here... welcome. Thanks for sticking around.