"And by the way if one day you happen to wake up and find yourself in an existential quandry full of loathing and self doubt and wracked with the pain and isolation of your pitiful meaningless existence at least you can take a small bit of comfort in knowing that somewhere out there in the crazy old mixed up universe of ours there's still a little place....called Albuquerque."
--Weird Al (Albuquerque)
Sunday, February 29, 2004
Saturday, February 28, 2004
So I'm reformatting (or does one say formatting?) our old computer. I discovered something interesting: it's extremely exciting to wipe everything from a computer. I sat there for a few minutes watching it tell me 1%, 2%, 3% and felt oddly powerful.
You are a tiny computer! I am like unto a God!
MWAA HAA HAA HAA
You are a tiny computer! I am like unto a God!
MWAA HAA HAA HAA
Thursday, February 26, 2004
After moving in to the new place, I told my son we would hook up the old computer (a dinosaur) in his room.
He has certain antiquated games that only work on the old beast.
So I need to fix some stuff. First I start going through files to take out anything I might want to keep and transfer it to the new computer.
What do I find but a pile of old letters I had written to the X, chronicling a pile of nights he came home wasted and pissed me off. One starts out:
June 21, 2002
Here I am again. Why do I record these things? So I can remember how bad it is? So I can not allow myself delusion? At what point do I look back from a distance? Will it ever get so bad? God, I hope not. I really pray it gets better.
(long pause)
Well, isn't that interesting? I thought so, too.
Because I don't remember how bad it was sometimes. Love has a funny way of erasing the really bad memories I guess. Although it appears I had created a failsafe against that, hmmm?
He has certain antiquated games that only work on the old beast.
So I need to fix some stuff. First I start going through files to take out anything I might want to keep and transfer it to the new computer.
What do I find but a pile of old letters I had written to the X, chronicling a pile of nights he came home wasted and pissed me off. One starts out:
June 21, 2002
Here I am again. Why do I record these things? So I can remember how bad it is? So I can not allow myself delusion? At what point do I look back from a distance? Will it ever get so bad? God, I hope not. I really pray it gets better.
(long pause)
Well, isn't that interesting? I thought so, too.
Because I don't remember how bad it was sometimes. Love has a funny way of erasing the really bad memories I guess. Although it appears I had created a failsafe against that, hmmm?
diamond in the rough?
Where did the X go last night? Why didn't he call, you ask? He went out with the girl from work! But not really, he says. (Can you hear the sarcasm dripping here?) He said she invited him down the bar to have a beer. One of his buddies is going to be there, she says. Oh, ok! Says my freaking retarded jackass of an X.
He swore he wouldn't hang out with her anymore. No drinking beer, no hugs, nothing.
Obviously he's a lying stupid fucknut.
But it's not the same, he swears! He was just going to see John! I tell him he can see John anytime, now can't he? He doesn't need his slut to go hang out with his friend. But, he says, it wasn't just him and her hanging out so it doesn't count. I say, who else was there? John and his girlfriend, who happens to be friends with skank. OH! OK! I say. You're right! It IS different! It's a double date! I see!
As much as I love this human, I can see he is mentally retarded and I'm going to have to come to grips with this.
I tell him last night that maybe we just shouldn't talk at all anymore, since he obviously doesn't get it, never will, or just doesn't give a damn. But at any rate, he's just a hopeless dumbass.
He says "Yah, maybe you're right, we should just give up!" and I ask him, "Do you mean it?" because I know he doesn't, he's just being a little pussy like always. He sighs and says, "No" dejectedly.
Why do I bother? Well, somewhere in there is a real jem of a human being. Somewhere.
Like I told my shrink, I have the ability to see the potential in people. I don't consider this a strength, I tell her; it's a weakness. She wants to know why. I tell her people don't often live up to their potential, so the point is frequently mute.
I liken it to seeing the diamond in a lump of coal. Yah, it could be a diamond someday. But sometimes you have to look at it and see it for what it is:
a worthless lump of coal.
He swore he wouldn't hang out with her anymore. No drinking beer, no hugs, nothing.
Obviously he's a lying stupid fucknut.
But it's not the same, he swears! He was just going to see John! I tell him he can see John anytime, now can't he? He doesn't need his slut to go hang out with his friend. But, he says, it wasn't just him and her hanging out so it doesn't count. I say, who else was there? John and his girlfriend, who happens to be friends with skank. OH! OK! I say. You're right! It IS different! It's a double date! I see!
As much as I love this human, I can see he is mentally retarded and I'm going to have to come to grips with this.
I tell him last night that maybe we just shouldn't talk at all anymore, since he obviously doesn't get it, never will, or just doesn't give a damn. But at any rate, he's just a hopeless dumbass.
He says "Yah, maybe you're right, we should just give up!" and I ask him, "Do you mean it?" because I know he doesn't, he's just being a little pussy like always. He sighs and says, "No" dejectedly.
Why do I bother? Well, somewhere in there is a real jem of a human being. Somewhere.
Like I told my shrink, I have the ability to see the potential in people. I don't consider this a strength, I tell her; it's a weakness. She wants to know why. I tell her people don't often live up to their potential, so the point is frequently mute.
I liken it to seeing the diamond in a lump of coal. Yah, it could be a diamond someday. But sometimes you have to look at it and see it for what it is:
a worthless lump of coal.
Wednesday, February 25, 2004
So the X and I have been talking at night. You know, on the phone, him there, me here. I told him to call me tonight when he gets home from work.
What the fuck was I thinking?
What the hell is wrong with me? Seriously. Am I just begging to be mistreated? Do I enjoy torturing myself?
I should have known I would end up sitting here waiting for the phone to ring. Instead of being at the old house, now I'm at the new one, and I'm still waiting for the accursed stupid thing to ring.
(Yes, Erica, I can hear you in my head telling me to turn the damn ringer off and forget about it.)
Moments like this I see as a sign. Like a giant flashing billboard in my face thats screaming in neon, "RUN AWAY! RUN AWAY!" over and over again.
He said last night that he was going to bust his ass to win me back.
ha.
What the fuck was I thinking?
What the hell is wrong with me? Seriously. Am I just begging to be mistreated? Do I enjoy torturing myself?
I should have known I would end up sitting here waiting for the phone to ring. Instead of being at the old house, now I'm at the new one, and I'm still waiting for the accursed stupid thing to ring.
(Yes, Erica, I can hear you in my head telling me to turn the damn ringer off and forget about it.)
Moments like this I see as a sign. Like a giant flashing billboard in my face thats screaming in neon, "RUN AWAY! RUN AWAY!" over and over again.
He said last night that he was going to bust his ass to win me back.
ha.
Relationship shit:
Pondering new relationships versus old ones.
Here's the thing- when you first meet someone, you sugar coat everything. If you just start dating someone, you know better than to tell them they're a dumbfuck when they do something wrong. (If not you may notice you don't date much, eh?) That's not to say you let them be delusional but there definitely is a certain amount of blowing sunshine up the object of your affections butt.
Your relationship progresses. Your now-significant-other now views you as an equal (so we hope). As an equal, they now ask for your opinion, your advice, your realistic view of certain situations. Your ability to blow sunshine up their butt is diminished, as they ask and require that you tell the truth, no matter how bitter a pill it may be to swallow. It is now your JOB.
Ok.
What happens when your significant other suddenly decides they cannot handle the truth anymore and instead require lavish ridiculous compliments instead?
They find another woman.
(Or man.)
My point is that my X decided he needed someone to sugar coat the truth and spoon feed him compliments. That is no longer a job I can do, at least not realistically. Had he actually articulated that he needed it, I could not have pulled it off, I don't think.
He would have seen through it.
Was there any way to avoid this mess?
I don't know.
Would it turn out better if it was avoided?
I doubt that.
I believe all of this is happening for a reason.
But it feels like....I"m reading a very suspense filled novel, and I want to flip to the end to see how it turns out.
Bummer that doesn't work in real life.
~sigh~
Pondering new relationships versus old ones.
Here's the thing- when you first meet someone, you sugar coat everything. If you just start dating someone, you know better than to tell them they're a dumbfuck when they do something wrong. (If not you may notice you don't date much, eh?) That's not to say you let them be delusional but there definitely is a certain amount of blowing sunshine up the object of your affections butt.
Your relationship progresses. Your now-significant-other now views you as an equal (so we hope). As an equal, they now ask for your opinion, your advice, your realistic view of certain situations. Your ability to blow sunshine up their butt is diminished, as they ask and require that you tell the truth, no matter how bitter a pill it may be to swallow. It is now your JOB.
Ok.
What happens when your significant other suddenly decides they cannot handle the truth anymore and instead require lavish ridiculous compliments instead?
They find another woman.
(Or man.)
My point is that my X decided he needed someone to sugar coat the truth and spoon feed him compliments. That is no longer a job I can do, at least not realistically. Had he actually articulated that he needed it, I could not have pulled it off, I don't think.
He would have seen through it.
Was there any way to avoid this mess?
I don't know.
Would it turn out better if it was avoided?
I doubt that.
I believe all of this is happening for a reason.
But it feels like....I"m reading a very suspense filled novel, and I want to flip to the end to see how it turns out.
Bummer that doesn't work in real life.
~sigh~
Tuesday, February 24, 2004
Sunday, February 22, 2004
Packing and moving all day.
In the process of cleaning I find a piece of paper that the girl my X ended up fucking wrote her phone number on.
Bad timing.
Here I am packing my house into a box and I find her bubbly little handwriting with her home phone and cell (in case he really really really needs to get a hold of her) and it was like the Wicked Witch of the West was cackling into my ear "I'll get you , my pretty!" and thinking how she did it. She wanted to break us up and mission accomplished. And I looked up from the piece of paper and looked around what used to be our house, and is now chaos, things gone, things in boxes, things scattered......
Mission accomplished.
I burst into tears.
In the process of cleaning I find a piece of paper that the girl my X ended up fucking wrote her phone number on.
Bad timing.
Here I am packing my house into a box and I find her bubbly little handwriting with her home phone and cell (in case he really really really needs to get a hold of her) and it was like the Wicked Witch of the West was cackling into my ear "I'll get you , my pretty!" and thinking how she did it. She wanted to break us up and mission accomplished. And I looked up from the piece of paper and looked around what used to be our house, and is now chaos, things gone, things in boxes, things scattered......
Mission accomplished.
I burst into tears.
Saturday, February 21, 2004
Friday, February 20, 2004
So the X came home drunk last night and told me he doesn't want to break up at all, that this is insane and I'm his girl.
He's drunk, so I dismiss it and go to sleep.
Today he comes home from work and I tell him about my new apartment snafu and he asks if I can get my deposit back. I suppose, I say, but why? And again he says he wants us to just stay together and not move at all. I tell him I didn't take him seriously the night before since he was drunk. He says no, he means it. I say, And then what? We stay here, we'll be back together, get married? He says Yes. It's time we just got it over with.
Nice sentiment.
Don't think so.
What the hell are we?
Now we are friends.
But what the fuck kind of craziness is this?
He's drunk, so I dismiss it and go to sleep.
Today he comes home from work and I tell him about my new apartment snafu and he asks if I can get my deposit back. I suppose, I say, but why? And again he says he wants us to just stay together and not move at all. I tell him I didn't take him seriously the night before since he was drunk. He says no, he means it. I say, And then what? We stay here, we'll be back together, get married? He says Yes. It's time we just got it over with.
Nice sentiment.
Don't think so.
What the hell are we?
Now we are friends.
But what the fuck kind of craziness is this?
I went to go put down my first months rent and get my key to the new place. I go over to show my son and check it out myself (I had been shown a similar one but not THAT one which was being cleaned).
The carpet is revolting.
Oh, it's freshly washed all right. But that did nothing to get out the stains, which COVER the floor. They're everywhere. I was furious. Of course, it now being after 5 on a Friday, there was no one to talk to about this "little problem".
Here I am supposed to start moving in tomorrow, and no way in hell am I moving into somewhere with a disgusting carpet covered in the stains of other peoples filth.
I had a nice hour long panic attack starting right then.
The carpet is revolting.
Oh, it's freshly washed all right. But that did nothing to get out the stains, which COVER the floor. They're everywhere. I was furious. Of course, it now being after 5 on a Friday, there was no one to talk to about this "little problem".
Here I am supposed to start moving in tomorrow, and no way in hell am I moving into somewhere with a disgusting carpet covered in the stains of other peoples filth.
I had a nice hour long panic attack starting right then.
for those of you who are sensitive, look no further.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I found this guy standing on the road, next to the abortion clinic in Asheville (I was driving by, not inquiring within.) I actually turned back around to take his picture, he was so disturbing. I asked him if I could and told him I had a web site that I sometimes posted things about Asheville. He said, "Oh, like weird things in Asheville?" And I said, "Yes. Sometimes. Sometimes beautiful things."
He remained deadpan throughout our brief conversation.
Here is his picture:
My reasons for posting him are not motivated by my feelings on abortion, nor the fact that I have recently made a reference to the definition of abortion (not abortions themselves).
No.
My reason for posting him is he looked as disturbing as I felt.
Serious, no smile, holding a huge poster of an aborted fetus, standing outside in the sunlight on a beautiful day.
He...just.....looks as disturbing as I feel.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I found this guy standing on the road, next to the abortion clinic in Asheville (I was driving by, not inquiring within.) I actually turned back around to take his picture, he was so disturbing. I asked him if I could and told him I had a web site that I sometimes posted things about Asheville. He said, "Oh, like weird things in Asheville?" And I said, "Yes. Sometimes. Sometimes beautiful things."
He remained deadpan throughout our brief conversation.
Here is his picture:
My reasons for posting him are not motivated by my feelings on abortion, nor the fact that I have recently made a reference to the definition of abortion (not abortions themselves).
No.
My reason for posting him is he looked as disturbing as I felt.
Serious, no smile, holding a huge poster of an aborted fetus, standing outside in the sunlight on a beautiful day.
He...just.....looks as disturbing as I feel.
Thursday, February 19, 2004
After being in as much solitude as possible for the last two days, I feel much calmer, much better. Not fixed, or even out of the psychotic woods, mind you, but better. People keep asking questions. People have opinions. People who haven't heard and want to know what happened. People are getting me so fucking worked up over something I cannot change in any way. I just need to relax. I need to eat. I'm still losing weight like crazy. I seriously worry me.
Tonight my X's dad called. Neither one of us has told him whats going on. I figure its not my place. So, anyway, he calls and announces he's engaged! I manage to eke out, "Oh...Congratulations......" before bursting into tears. I tell him the whole story. He is so sad, because he loves me. He says, "I still want you to be my daughter in law." And I sob and say, "Me, too."
It was awful.
Tonight my X's dad called. Neither one of us has told him whats going on. I figure its not my place. So, anyway, he calls and announces he's engaged! I manage to eke out, "Oh...Congratulations......" before bursting into tears. I tell him the whole story. He is so sad, because he loves me. He says, "I still want you to be my daughter in law." And I sob and say, "Me, too."
It was awful.
Wednesday, February 18, 2004
Not only have I lost my boyfriend, I've lost my best friend. He was my best friend. Now I'm wondering about my other friends. Are they really my friends? How do I know?
Do I trust anyone?
Do I bother?
I'd like to move, get to my new place and lock myself in there until further notice. Not go to work, not go outside, not talk to another fucking human being. Just sit there and piece back together my faith in the human race.
Oh well.
Do I trust anyone?
Do I bother?
I'd like to move, get to my new place and lock myself in there until further notice. Not go to work, not go outside, not talk to another fucking human being. Just sit there and piece back together my faith in the human race.
Oh well.
Tuesday, February 17, 2004
depression haiku
I am alone now
spiraling into despair
here in the darkness
I thought I knew love
now it seems a delusion
a lovely mirage
my heart deceived me
I can see no use for trust
it led me astray
I'm lost in the void
the empty blackness of space
becomes my new home
restless I wander
like a child lost in a crowd
each face a stranger
people are distant
it seems I can't reach them here
confined to my pain
Monday, February 16, 2004
He keeps telling me how much he loves me, how sorry he is. I've heard this over and over again. And he regrets it (not as much as he's going to!) and he wishes he'd never met her, the "vile temptress".
What I want to know is, how could he be led astray?
This girl ain't shit, people. She's cute, I'll give her that. But yours truly is a hot mama herself, and this stank hippy bitch has nothing on me. That is not my bruised ego: it's a fact.
And I asked him,"How? How did this happen? I need to know."
What I want to know is, how could he be led astray?
This girl ain't shit, people. She's cute, I'll give her that. But yours truly is a hot mama herself, and this stank hippy bitch has nothing on me. That is not my bruised ego: it's a fact.
And I asked him,"How? How did this happen? I need to know."
This morning the X walks into the kitchen while I'm packing. He says, "Good morning!" all cheery and nice. I coldly state, "Yes, morning. I wouldn't call it good." He asks, "Why? What happened?" I whirl and give him a look to kill (really, I tried, but my death ray vision seems to be malfunctioning). He then gets pissed off and asks, "Is this how it's going to be? Are you going to be a snotty bitch from now on?" I answer him, "YES. You've been a fucking asshole to me for the last 3 months while you hung out with some stupid bitch, then you actually fucked her, and now you want to be nice. I don't fucking think so." And went back to packing.
Is his delusion that great?
Apparently.
Note to anyone unaware:
Alcohol will make you a moron. It may not be today, may not be tomorrow, but sooner or later you too will turn into a fucking idiot. Just stay away from the shit.
Is his delusion that great?
Apparently.
Note to anyone unaware:
Alcohol will make you a moron. It may not be today, may not be tomorrow, but sooner or later you too will turn into a fucking idiot. Just stay away from the shit.
Sunday, February 15, 2004
Saturday, February 14, 2004
Friday, February 13, 2004
Thursday, February 12, 2004
After spending the majority of my day mulling over X's temper tantrum last night, I've decided I have a migraine and want to sleep forever.
Can you say depression? I knew you could.
What about it still so depressing? It seems like I keep getting over it, then I'm suddenly NOT over it and heartbroken all over again.
Maybe it's just stress, having to still find a place to move into within the next two weeks. Having spent the majority of my morning making phone calls, crunching numbers, trying to find a place I can accept (I'm picky, after all) and afford.
Thinking about X's drunken tantrum.....
Thinking about killing the hippy bitch 30 different ways (or at least crushing her kneecaps)....
Debating going to spinning class at the Y tonight but deciding my crushing headache would not go well with an hour of high intensity exercise.
Although it's a shame, there are a lot of cute guys walking into the yoga class that follows....I noticed that interesting fact last week.
Nah, I don't want or need another pain in the ass, oh, I mean boyfriend. I just think some nice candy would do me a world of good.
Seems to be working for my X, I note dryly.
Can you say depression? I knew you could.
What about it still so depressing? It seems like I keep getting over it, then I'm suddenly NOT over it and heartbroken all over again.
Maybe it's just stress, having to still find a place to move into within the next two weeks. Having spent the majority of my morning making phone calls, crunching numbers, trying to find a place I can accept (I'm picky, after all) and afford.
Thinking about X's drunken tantrum.....
Thinking about killing the hippy bitch 30 different ways (or at least crushing her kneecaps)....
Debating going to spinning class at the Y tonight but deciding my crushing headache would not go well with an hour of high intensity exercise.
Although it's a shame, there are a lot of cute guys walking into the yoga class that follows....I noticed that interesting fact last week.
Nah, I don't want or need another pain in the ass, oh, I mean boyfriend. I just think some nice candy would do me a world of good.
Seems to be working for my X, I note dryly.
Funny little story......
So last night the Hippy bitch from work is going to the Chippendales (or some facsimile thereof) show. Of course the X doesn't want to go to that. So he goes to the bar instead. He comes home drunk, and pissy, and tries, I kid you not, to get me to have sex with him. REALITY CHECK- I think not. So I'm thinking to myself, the poor thing. His little girlfriend (oh, I mean "drinking buddy") went off to see the beefcake dudes instead of hanging out with him. According to him, she was supposed to meet him at the bar after that. So he had to sit at the bar, all alone, while she's off looking at mostly naked studly dudes. He has to wait while she's off admiring other men. (Sounds familiar?) He doesn't much care for it, methinks. And he leaves before she gets back- I'm guessing feeling a little bit insecure about the whole situation. He comes home- and tried to make himself feel better by seeing if I'll have sex with him. SHUT DOWN....and he pouts and starts being a total asshole.
Funnier still:
I ask him why he came home early, and he says it's because he wasn't having any fun sitting there by himself. He left right before the music came on, he says. Hmmmmmm....that's funny, I tell him. He asks why. I explain that he's always said he hangs out there on Wednesday night (as I call it, their Date Night) because he loves the music. He always has claimed it has nothing to do with her being there, he would be happier alone, as a matter of fact. So it's interesting, I tell him, that you had a miserable time without her, hmmm? That you didn't even stay for the music, which is supposedly the whole reason you go, or at least that's what you've told me over and over again.
He scowls and says that's not true, and he never said that.
Ok, you fucking dumb drunk.
Don't argue with the sober person.
I'm not the retarded one.
And by funny, I mean I'm laughing at him, not with him.
So last night the Hippy bitch from work is going to the Chippendales (or some facsimile thereof) show. Of course the X doesn't want to go to that. So he goes to the bar instead. He comes home drunk, and pissy, and tries, I kid you not, to get me to have sex with him. REALITY CHECK- I think not. So I'm thinking to myself, the poor thing. His little girlfriend (oh, I mean "drinking buddy") went off to see the beefcake dudes instead of hanging out with him. According to him, she was supposed to meet him at the bar after that. So he had to sit at the bar, all alone, while she's off looking at mostly naked studly dudes. He has to wait while she's off admiring other men. (Sounds familiar?) He doesn't much care for it, methinks. And he leaves before she gets back- I'm guessing feeling a little bit insecure about the whole situation. He comes home- and tried to make himself feel better by seeing if I'll have sex with him. SHUT DOWN....and he pouts and starts being a total asshole.
Funnier still:
I ask him why he came home early, and he says it's because he wasn't having any fun sitting there by himself. He left right before the music came on, he says. Hmmmmmm....that's funny, I tell him. He asks why. I explain that he's always said he hangs out there on Wednesday night (as I call it, their Date Night) because he loves the music. He always has claimed it has nothing to do with her being there, he would be happier alone, as a matter of fact. So it's interesting, I tell him, that you had a miserable time without her, hmmm? That you didn't even stay for the music, which is supposedly the whole reason you go, or at least that's what you've told me over and over again.
He scowls and says that's not true, and he never said that.
Ok, you fucking dumb drunk.
Don't argue with the sober person.
I'm not the retarded one.
And by funny, I mean I'm laughing at him, not with him.
Wednesday, February 11, 2004
Snow is coming.
This would be lovely, except it means I'm going to be snowed into the house with the X YET AGAIN.
At least I have Xanax. It doesn't beat the other alternative I prefer- a coma until it's over.
No no, I'm not going to overdose on Xanax.
I'm pissed off and annoyed, not insane.
Please God, let him go home with that stupid bitch from work. Of all the nights he went over there, let this be one!
He knows I am distancing myself. That's why he's pulling closer.
God how I hate alcoholics.
No more.
Never again.
This would be lovely, except it means I'm going to be snowed into the house with the X YET AGAIN.
At least I have Xanax. It doesn't beat the other alternative I prefer- a coma until it's over.
No no, I'm not going to overdose on Xanax.
I'm pissed off and annoyed, not insane.
Please God, let him go home with that stupid bitch from work. Of all the nights he went over there, let this be one!
He knows I am distancing myself. That's why he's pulling closer.
God how I hate alcoholics.
No more.
Never again.
Tuesday, February 10, 2004
Your blog shall return.
Your blog is being assaulted by emotion, with the X constantly home all of a sudden. We're packing. He's trying to make nice. He IS being very nice. It's unfortunate it is all far too little, far too late.
Your blog does not to know how to respond to all this sudden niceness.
Your blog would like to run screaming into a dark forest and hide.
Alas, life beckons and I must attend to life matters. Whether or not I'm suddenly suffocating under the weight of a belated heart-string-tugging apology, of sorts.
It's so sad.
It's all so sad.
When I was here and loved him, fully present in every moment and cherished our life together, he could care less.
Now he's suddenly aware of all he'll miss.
What do you think would happen if I took him back now? If I said, "This was all crazy, you're right. Let's unpack our things and never speak of this again."
He would revert to his crappy behavior. Within days. Maybe hours.
Your blog has dated too many alcoholics.
Your blog is older and wiser now.
Now, I must concentrate on emotional separation. How does one separate themselves from someone they still love, when the only reason to do so is mental health?
The heart does not find that to be a convincing reason.
Thank God I do possess a splinter of logic somewhere in my body. I don't know where it resides, but it's working overtime, like someones cramming coal in the train furnace without my being aware. CHUG CHUG CHUG Logic has decided I am an emotional imbecile and keep picking these guys and must stop doing so. Logic is policing the heart. Logic keeps smacking upside the back of my head when the X gives me those puppy dog eyes and leans in for a kiss. My heart says, "Yay!"
At that moment, somewhere, somehow I feel the sharp jab of logic.
STUPID! WAKE UP!
It WON'T be ok, it's NOT going to be ok. There is simply nothing he can do right now to make it ok.
And it's been confusing, emotionally exhausting, and bizarre trying to balance these feelings out.
I'm so friggin tired of this goddamn rollercoaster.
Get me off this fuckin thing.
I'm just done.
Your blog is being assaulted by emotion, with the X constantly home all of a sudden. We're packing. He's trying to make nice. He IS being very nice. It's unfortunate it is all far too little, far too late.
Your blog does not to know how to respond to all this sudden niceness.
Your blog would like to run screaming into a dark forest and hide.
Alas, life beckons and I must attend to life matters. Whether or not I'm suddenly suffocating under the weight of a belated heart-string-tugging apology, of sorts.
It's so sad.
It's all so sad.
When I was here and loved him, fully present in every moment and cherished our life together, he could care less.
Now he's suddenly aware of all he'll miss.
What do you think would happen if I took him back now? If I said, "This was all crazy, you're right. Let's unpack our things and never speak of this again."
He would revert to his crappy behavior. Within days. Maybe hours.
Your blog has dated too many alcoholics.
Your blog is older and wiser now.
Now, I must concentrate on emotional separation. How does one separate themselves from someone they still love, when the only reason to do so is mental health?
The heart does not find that to be a convincing reason.
Thank God I do possess a splinter of logic somewhere in my body. I don't know where it resides, but it's working overtime, like someones cramming coal in the train furnace without my being aware. CHUG CHUG CHUG Logic has decided I am an emotional imbecile and keep picking these guys and must stop doing so. Logic is policing the heart. Logic keeps smacking upside the back of my head when the X gives me those puppy dog eyes and leans in for a kiss. My heart says, "Yay!"
At that moment, somewhere, somehow I feel the sharp jab of logic.
STUPID! WAKE UP!
It WON'T be ok, it's NOT going to be ok. There is simply nothing he can do right now to make it ok.
And it's been confusing, emotionally exhausting, and bizarre trying to balance these feelings out.
I'm so friggin tired of this goddamn rollercoaster.
Get me off this fuckin thing.
I'm just done.
Sunday, February 08, 2004
Saturday, February 07, 2004
My stomach hurts, something awful. It has since last night. Maybe because I took my insomnia meds on a nearly empty stomach, like it says not to? Maybe because I stayed up most of the night yakking away in IM?
I had a lotta fun, by the way.
The X stayed at the stupid chicks house last night. He called to tell me that. Although I think he was thinking I would be worried if he didn't come home, honestly I was overjoyed he wasn't coming home. I was really glad he called. So I could ENJOY the night without him.
I so totally look forward to life without him.
Sad.
I had a lotta fun, by the way.
The X stayed at the stupid chicks house last night. He called to tell me that. Although I think he was thinking I would be worried if he didn't come home, honestly I was overjoyed he wasn't coming home. I was really glad he called. So I could ENJOY the night without him.
I so totally look forward to life without him.
Sad.
Loving this song:
"Break You Off Musiq" by The Roots off the Phrenology album.
Although I am already broken off, it's a fucking hot song.
And also pertinent:
"Water", same album.
"You need to walk straight master your high...son you missing out on what's passing you by...I've done seen the streets suck a lotta cats dry, but not you and I they got, we got we got to get.... come on over, over the water...."
Too bad the X can't understand that.
He wouldn't be the X, I imagine.
"Break You Off Musiq" by The Roots off the Phrenology album.
Although I am already broken off, it's a fucking hot song.
And also pertinent:
"Water", same album.
"You need to walk straight master your high...son you missing out on what's passing you by...I've done seen the streets suck a lotta cats dry, but not you and I they got, we got we got to get.... come on over, over the water...."
Too bad the X can't understand that.
He wouldn't be the X, I imagine.
Friday, February 06, 2004
~~~Break Up Haiku Venting~~~~
our lives are now split
we were two, then one, now two
it is full circle
love is not lost here
it is merely obscured by
pain and suffering
I am acutely
aware of our lack of trust
widening chasm
inability
to find our way through the mire
and find each other
how can I explain
my love for you is endless
now please go away
the alcoholic
has lovely ideals of love
unable to keep
love is simple yet
you and I have created
chaos in the midst
how do we end this?
on a note of hopefulness
or just conclusion?
details are petty
we are lost in the quagmire
circular talking
try to remember
the love all encompassing
hold that in my heart
our lives are now split
we were two, then one, now two
it is full circle
love is not lost here
it is merely obscured by
pain and suffering
I am acutely
aware of our lack of trust
widening chasm
inability
to find our way through the mire
and find each other
how can I explain
my love for you is endless
now please go away
the alcoholic
has lovely ideals of love
unable to keep
love is simple yet
you and I have created
chaos in the midst
how do we end this?
on a note of hopefulness
or just conclusion?
details are petty
we are lost in the quagmire
circular talking
try to remember
the love all encompassing
hold that in my heart
I decided to take some pictures of myself. So, I point the digital camera and flash flash flash. Not for any real reason, I just usually hate the way pictures of me come out. So what the hell- when you have a digital camera you can do it till one comes out ok, right?
I was hoping for one that I could send to my family to let them know I'm ok. They are all so worried. They know I wasn't eating. I thought a nice happy picture of me might make them feel better.
Ok- so I look at the pictures.
Eeegads!
Is that haggard bony cheeked girl really me?
Even the ones where I am trying to smile, I look like hell. Pretty, but hell. I don't look like that in the mirror. Do I look like that to the people I talk to? Are people noticing I look like crap? And how haven't I noticed? Granted I didn't get much sleep last night but still....
yikes.
I won't be sending out any picture right now, looks like.
Looking at that picture of myself makes me sad. Like, I feel bad for this poor girl. Oh crap, it's ME.
It bothers me because I am a very private person. How many people have I forced cheeriness on and they haven't bought a bit of it, I wonder?
I was hoping for one that I could send to my family to let them know I'm ok. They are all so worried. They know I wasn't eating. I thought a nice happy picture of me might make them feel better.
Ok- so I look at the pictures.
Eeegads!
Is that haggard bony cheeked girl really me?
Even the ones where I am trying to smile, I look like hell. Pretty, but hell. I don't look like that in the mirror. Do I look like that to the people I talk to? Are people noticing I look like crap? And how haven't I noticed? Granted I didn't get much sleep last night but still....
yikes.
I won't be sending out any picture right now, looks like.
Looking at that picture of myself makes me sad. Like, I feel bad for this poor girl. Oh crap, it's ME.
It bothers me because I am a very private person. How many people have I forced cheeriness on and they haven't bought a bit of it, I wonder?
opting for macro not micro
Working hard today on keeping the big picture in focus.
I have a tendency to see all the tiny details of this relationship hell. I look at things in terms of finality, of destruction. I am working hard at remembering this is not about a lack of love. This is about one human being who is fucked up. That human being is not me. (Which is not to say I don't have my own problems, but let's stick to the subject.) This human would like to love the other human (me) but is unable to due to the fact that the first human is mentally unhealthy. Second human is suffering the many effects of first humans unhealthiness, and must separate to save their own sanity.
That's the gist of it.
And really, everything else is extraneous.
It's all those extraneous details that make me insane.
If I can just rise above it, I'll be fine.
Current goal: Rise.
I have a tendency to see all the tiny details of this relationship hell. I look at things in terms of finality, of destruction. I am working hard at remembering this is not about a lack of love. This is about one human being who is fucked up. That human being is not me. (Which is not to say I don't have my own problems, but let's stick to the subject.) This human would like to love the other human (me) but is unable to due to the fact that the first human is mentally unhealthy. Second human is suffering the many effects of first humans unhealthiness, and must separate to save their own sanity.
That's the gist of it.
And really, everything else is extraneous.
It's all those extraneous details that make me insane.
If I can just rise above it, I'll be fine.
Current goal: Rise.
It's 4:20 dude.
Not that means jack shit to me, other than the fact my drunken X came in at 2:30, woke me up and started my compulsive brain going again, talking about the dumb hippy bitch he just LOVES to hang out with.
Here's my point:
If you are in a relationship- longer than 6 months, at least- and you make friends with someone who is disrespectful of your significant other, would you not cut ties with the new "friend" in honor of keeping the good thing you've got?
So stupid bitch wants to hang out all the time with what used to be my boyfriend, but never fucking talked to me, and yet he and she seem unable to grasp why I think the whole think stinks to high heaven and I frequently think about waiting for her in the alley with a baseball bat.
It's 4:30 in the fucking morning.
I'm packing.
What the fuck else do I have to do?
Let me put it this way: there is NOTHING else I could better spend my time awake doing.
That's a fact.
Not that means jack shit to me, other than the fact my drunken X came in at 2:30, woke me up and started my compulsive brain going again, talking about the dumb hippy bitch he just LOVES to hang out with.
Here's my point:
If you are in a relationship- longer than 6 months, at least- and you make friends with someone who is disrespectful of your significant other, would you not cut ties with the new "friend" in honor of keeping the good thing you've got?
So stupid bitch wants to hang out all the time with what used to be my boyfriend, but never fucking talked to me, and yet he and she seem unable to grasp why I think the whole think stinks to high heaven and I frequently think about waiting for her in the alley with a baseball bat.
It's 4:30 in the fucking morning.
I'm packing.
What the fuck else do I have to do?
Let me put it this way: there is NOTHING else I could better spend my time awake doing.
That's a fact.
breaking up is easier to do when you're pissed off
Well, I'm just infuriated again.
It's all stupid, really. And nothing has changed at all.
I'm just an idiot. The X and I had a nice few days together and somewhere in my stupid head I thought maybe we might be able to work things out. Then he goes out with the dumb bitch from work again and I hate him (and her) all over again. I even went up to his work to chew him out. I wanted to wait until she got there and beat the fucking crap out of her, just for the principle of the damn thing. I didn't do it, though.
It is occurring to me that the alcoholic I love may say whatever he wants. But the bottom line is he is an alcoholic. And alcoholics like to talk big and make lovely promises- they are simply unable to follow through.
Will he get help? Really, I ask myself?
Not likely.
Should I give myself the tiniest bit of hope that things could work out one day?
Probably not.
And that suddenly makes this whole thing a thousand times worse. At least before I had the small hope that some magical someday it would be ok.
Now, I don't think so.
It feels like death. Grieving.
It's too much.
It's all stupid, really. And nothing has changed at all.
I'm just an idiot. The X and I had a nice few days together and somewhere in my stupid head I thought maybe we might be able to work things out. Then he goes out with the dumb bitch from work again and I hate him (and her) all over again. I even went up to his work to chew him out. I wanted to wait until she got there and beat the fucking crap out of her, just for the principle of the damn thing. I didn't do it, though.
It is occurring to me that the alcoholic I love may say whatever he wants. But the bottom line is he is an alcoholic. And alcoholics like to talk big and make lovely promises- they are simply unable to follow through.
Will he get help? Really, I ask myself?
Not likely.
Should I give myself the tiniest bit of hope that things could work out one day?
Probably not.
And that suddenly makes this whole thing a thousand times worse. At least before I had the small hope that some magical someday it would be ok.
Now, I don't think so.
It feels like death. Grieving.
It's too much.
Tuesday, February 03, 2004
breaking up is hard to do
I'm convinced the boyfriend and I separating is a good plan. Or at least, the right thing to do. I say separate because we both have come to the conclusion we love each other and maybe someday things will work out. But me being the codependent type I am, cannot rationally deal with an alcoholic.
So we move out. We break up. In the meantime we are both still here, until we can both move. It's bizarre and nice and uncomfortable at the same time. We're both packing. We are getting along.
And yet it's horribly horribly, mind numbingly painful.
I told him watching our stuff go into separate boxes is like pulling a tree out by the roots.
So we move out. We break up. In the meantime we are both still here, until we can both move. It's bizarre and nice and uncomfortable at the same time. We're both packing. We are getting along.
And yet it's horribly horribly, mind numbingly painful.
I told him watching our stuff go into separate boxes is like pulling a tree out by the roots.
Monday, February 02, 2004
Sunday, February 01, 2004
I've been listening to a lot of Grateful Dead all of a sudden. Kinda wondering if it's the Xanax. But it also seems as if every time I have to move I am totally in the mood for the Dead. I have music moods, you see. I'll listen to the same album over and over until the mood changes (which could be days or minutes, you never can tell).
Right now it's the Dead, and tons of it.
Mucho gracious to Denny, who sent me all kinds of songs I only have on album (and have no record player) and have been dying to hear.
So I just finished listening to Terrapin Station, and it's just a freakin fabulous song. I listened to the B side of that album while I was in labor with my son, and my friends (in the room) said they never would have realized how perfect that album was for labor, but yet there it was.
It's a very moody song. It fits me just fine, being a very moody girl.
How one song can be cheesy and majestic, ominous and bright, cheerful and sad, glorious and mundane, shallow and deep, inconsequential and thoughtful, dull and witty, dramatic and bland, all at once?
Fucking phenomenal song.
Don't care if you hate the Dead.
This song is a sheer beauty.
"In the shadow of the moon......and I know we'll be there soon.....I can't figure out.....if it's the end or beginning.....but the trains put it's brakes on....and the whistle is screaming..........."
"While you're gone....these spaces filled with darkness, the obvious was hidden, with nothing to believe in, the compass always points to Terrapin....the sudden wings of fortune beat like rain....you're back in Terrapin for good or ill again....for good or ill again...."
Right now it's the Dead, and tons of it.
Mucho gracious to Denny, who sent me all kinds of songs I only have on album (and have no record player) and have been dying to hear.
So I just finished listening to Terrapin Station, and it's just a freakin fabulous song. I listened to the B side of that album while I was in labor with my son, and my friends (in the room) said they never would have realized how perfect that album was for labor, but yet there it was.
It's a very moody song. It fits me just fine, being a very moody girl.
How one song can be cheesy and majestic, ominous and bright, cheerful and sad, glorious and mundane, shallow and deep, inconsequential and thoughtful, dull and witty, dramatic and bland, all at once?
Fucking phenomenal song.
Don't care if you hate the Dead.
This song is a sheer beauty.
"In the shadow of the moon......and I know we'll be there soon.....I can't figure out.....if it's the end or beginning.....but the trains put it's brakes on....and the whistle is screaming..........."
"While you're gone....these spaces filled with darkness, the obvious was hidden, with nothing to believe in, the compass always points to Terrapin....the sudden wings of fortune beat like rain....you're back in Terrapin for good or ill again....for good or ill again...."
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