Sunday Morning
I wrote a post for you this week. Perhaps I'll still send it,
eventually. The disheartening thing was, my computer died in the middle
of it and the entire meat of the post was deleted. I'm shocked to find
that because blogger automatically saves my writing as I type — probably
every 5 minutes or so. I had been writing for about 45 minutes.
Everything I had written was gone when I came back online. So sad for me
that I just folded over my laptop and moved onto the laundry.
One thing I was going to update you all on was my state of being. Yes, last week was rough. Yes, I cried. Yes, I indulged in sadness, grief, memories, self-pity. I wouldn't be human if I didn't. To be honest, there were a few times last week I just wanted to hide under the covers. There is another story here, flowing like an undercurrent in the background. I can't share it with you and I so want to. Not many people know, hardly any. Maybe a few gals at work — a safe place to share b/c they are not part of my daily life outside of work. A few close friends, and not even all my close friends know everything.
The background story has been what was igniting the pain behind the scenes; it's a story I cannot share. It may affect my relationship with Matt (It's been quite good up until just this morning). It can affect the divorce. It can affect a lot of things. For now, I just need to play my cards right so that I can remain peaceful (which is not the case right now, or lately), so that I can stay on my feet emotionally, so that I am not judged... and yes, by you RP readers. I know you like me and want the best for me. I never, not ever, received a nasty comment from a reader; if there was one maybe two that smelled of judgement, I rightly deserved them. Sometimes I push the envelop, and I get that I may ruffle feathers. I don't want to be judged; I doubt anyone does. I am doing what I think is best. I am doing what I know to do, and I have lots to learn. Divorce is so controversial. As is religion. As is the whole political environment. Raising Peanut is my outlet for my life —good times, bad times, fun times. It's my pubic online journal where I can be almost completely transparent. Except I can't. That sucks, because I wish I could throw caution to the wind and bare all. I really do. I wish I didn't care what people thought of me. But I do. I need, right now, to be accepted. I need support. I can't afford to lose any of it. I've lost a lot already: a few friends, my marriage, the dream, the money, the support, the love. I've lived and am living thru rejection, the hardest thing I have had to face.
A couple close friends know about the undercurrents. (Yes, there are couple things going on that I don't write about.) But no one knows that a particular of those untold stories is killing me right now. That story was good for me for a while, but with spring here, I don't stand a chance offering up any part of my time to another source of goodness, no matter how beneficial it may be for me. I realize I do not like how I am feeling, and it's no one's fault but my own. It's a natural consequence actually, of the situation I'm in. Like it when I talk in riddles? :) I'm sorry, I can't share it right now. My friends, those who see me in person, please don't ask me about it. I am not able to share. Like I said, it could affect the relationship, the forced "friendship" I have with Matt now. Anything that ruffles the feathers of what Matt and I are trying to accomplish could affect my son. And I fear being judged for stretching myself too thin. So no, I'm not confident sharing now.
I just gazed out the window here at Alterra, watching a woman love up on her dog. Maybe I should get a dog, I thought to myself just now. How ridiculous. Trying, once again, to find some shred of love to fill my brokenness.
Why did I let Matt have Oliver today?
Our self-produced custody schedule is changing, thanks to me. Initially, I told Matt that I was not willing to give up Oliver on the weekends. He was only two. I felt I needed him as a mother. I felt Oliver needed me. Matt's schedule was flexible. He could make his weekends during the week. He agreed. Eventually, he began to take Oliver Friday nights. That was a relief actually. At first to 2-3 Friday's a month. Now, it's every Friday. Two years later, I need a break. I love love love my Peanut. At the same time, it's hard to get anything accomplished with him running around my feet. I play with him, which is 100% the right thing to do, and then my home slides. Laundry piles up. The house is a mess. Weekdays, I'm busy with something going on every single night of the week! Monday: two meetings, very very necessary for my mental and spiritual health! Tuesday: connect with friends to maintain friendships. Wednesday: a meeting that takes up my entire night. I don't get to spend more than 1 hour with Oz before I leave. When I get home, he is asleep. Thursday: my night with Oliver, with little time other than to make dinner, give him a bath, read him a story x 2, and get him to bed. Somewhere I have to clean up dinner. Friday: plans. Each Friday I go out somewhere, anywhere. Maybe it's my fear of being in that house alone. There has not be one single Friday (or Tuesday) when Matt has had Oliver that I have not made plans. Saturday, it starts all over again: a lovely weekend with Oliver, but not being able to accomplish much else.
Out of desperation, I asked Matt if he would take Oliver one weekend a month. He works weekends, so I didn't think it was likely. He jumped at the chance saying he's been wanting to ask me just that.
We are starting soft. He gets Oliver today, Sunday. He gets Oliver next Sunday. Then in April, one full weekend.
I was sick over it, but I knew I needed it.
Then today, daylight saving's time, I was 10 minutes late at drop off. No more, maybe a few minutes less. Matt's annoyance with me set me off. Why? Probably because of the undercurrents going on right now. I have no tolerance for his anger. I got flashbacks to how he treated me in 2010, 2011. I responded with anger. He responded that he had attitude b/c I was late. This is what gets me. This is where I wish I didn't have to be so Gosh-Damn transparent with you and so darn nice to him. Fuck. I'm mad. Do you KNOW what I put up with? Infidelity. Money crap. Lies, lies, lies and more lies. There, I said it. The I word. Something I said I would never publish.
I'm mad. It's daylight savings. 10 minutes is all it takes to put him off track? Really? Really really??? After what he did? After all the lies? After all the crap he pulled financially? And if you think I mean a few dollars here and there, think again. He's not Bernard Madoff, but if you add a few extra zeros, maybe we could talk comparison. All this shrouded by a cloak of self-righteousness, contempt, and spirituality. I'm just sick today that he gave me "attitude" because I ran behind. "You know I don't like it when you're late." Too fucking bad.
One thing I was going to update you all on was my state of being. Yes, last week was rough. Yes, I cried. Yes, I indulged in sadness, grief, memories, self-pity. I wouldn't be human if I didn't. To be honest, there were a few times last week I just wanted to hide under the covers. There is another story here, flowing like an undercurrent in the background. I can't share it with you and I so want to. Not many people know, hardly any. Maybe a few gals at work — a safe place to share b/c they are not part of my daily life outside of work. A few close friends, and not even all my close friends know everything.
The background story has been what was igniting the pain behind the scenes; it's a story I cannot share. It may affect my relationship with Matt (It's been quite good up until just this morning). It can affect the divorce. It can affect a lot of things. For now, I just need to play my cards right so that I can remain peaceful (which is not the case right now, or lately), so that I can stay on my feet emotionally, so that I am not judged... and yes, by you RP readers. I know you like me and want the best for me. I never, not ever, received a nasty comment from a reader; if there was one maybe two that smelled of judgement, I rightly deserved them. Sometimes I push the envelop, and I get that I may ruffle feathers. I don't want to be judged; I doubt anyone does. I am doing what I think is best. I am doing what I know to do, and I have lots to learn. Divorce is so controversial. As is religion. As is the whole political environment. Raising Peanut is my outlet for my life —good times, bad times, fun times. It's my pubic online journal where I can be almost completely transparent. Except I can't. That sucks, because I wish I could throw caution to the wind and bare all. I really do. I wish I didn't care what people thought of me. But I do. I need, right now, to be accepted. I need support. I can't afford to lose any of it. I've lost a lot already: a few friends, my marriage, the dream, the money, the support, the love. I've lived and am living thru rejection, the hardest thing I have had to face.
A couple close friends know about the undercurrents. (Yes, there are couple things going on that I don't write about.) But no one knows that a particular of those untold stories is killing me right now. That story was good for me for a while, but with spring here, I don't stand a chance offering up any part of my time to another source of goodness, no matter how beneficial it may be for me. I realize I do not like how I am feeling, and it's no one's fault but my own. It's a natural consequence actually, of the situation I'm in. Like it when I talk in riddles? :) I'm sorry, I can't share it right now. My friends, those who see me in person, please don't ask me about it. I am not able to share. Like I said, it could affect the relationship, the forced "friendship" I have with Matt now. Anything that ruffles the feathers of what Matt and I are trying to accomplish could affect my son. And I fear being judged for stretching myself too thin. So no, I'm not confident sharing now.
I just gazed out the window here at Alterra, watching a woman love up on her dog. Maybe I should get a dog, I thought to myself just now. How ridiculous. Trying, once again, to find some shred of love to fill my brokenness.
Why did I let Matt have Oliver today?
Our self-produced custody schedule is changing, thanks to me. Initially, I told Matt that I was not willing to give up Oliver on the weekends. He was only two. I felt I needed him as a mother. I felt Oliver needed me. Matt's schedule was flexible. He could make his weekends during the week. He agreed. Eventually, he began to take Oliver Friday nights. That was a relief actually. At first to 2-3 Friday's a month. Now, it's every Friday. Two years later, I need a break. I love love love my Peanut. At the same time, it's hard to get anything accomplished with him running around my feet. I play with him, which is 100% the right thing to do, and then my home slides. Laundry piles up. The house is a mess. Weekdays, I'm busy with something going on every single night of the week! Monday: two meetings, very very necessary for my mental and spiritual health! Tuesday: connect with friends to maintain friendships. Wednesday: a meeting that takes up my entire night. I don't get to spend more than 1 hour with Oz before I leave. When I get home, he is asleep. Thursday: my night with Oliver, with little time other than to make dinner, give him a bath, read him a story x 2, and get him to bed. Somewhere I have to clean up dinner. Friday: plans. Each Friday I go out somewhere, anywhere. Maybe it's my fear of being in that house alone. There has not be one single Friday (or Tuesday) when Matt has had Oliver that I have not made plans. Saturday, it starts all over again: a lovely weekend with Oliver, but not being able to accomplish much else.
Out of desperation, I asked Matt if he would take Oliver one weekend a month. He works weekends, so I didn't think it was likely. He jumped at the chance saying he's been wanting to ask me just that.
We are starting soft. He gets Oliver today, Sunday. He gets Oliver next Sunday. Then in April, one full weekend.
I was sick over it, but I knew I needed it.
Then today, daylight saving's time, I was 10 minutes late at drop off. No more, maybe a few minutes less. Matt's annoyance with me set me off. Why? Probably because of the undercurrents going on right now. I have no tolerance for his anger. I got flashbacks to how he treated me in 2010, 2011. I responded with anger. He responded that he had attitude b/c I was late. This is what gets me. This is where I wish I didn't have to be so Gosh-Damn transparent with you and so darn nice to him. Fuck. I'm mad. Do you KNOW what I put up with? Infidelity. Money crap. Lies, lies, lies and more lies. There, I said it. The I word. Something I said I would never publish.
I'm mad. It's daylight savings. 10 minutes is all it takes to put him off track? Really? Really really??? After what he did? After all the lies? After all the crap he pulled financially? And if you think I mean a few dollars here and there, think again. He's not Bernard Madoff, but if you add a few extra zeros, maybe we could talk comparison. All this shrouded by a cloak of self-righteousness, contempt, and spirituality. I'm just sick today that he gave me "attitude" because I ran behind. "You know I don't like it when you're late." Too fucking bad.
* * * * *
Tired
of reading yet? Sick of my rant? I'm sick of it too. Except I have
rarely been ranting. This week I took a hit. The warmer weather. The
sunshine. The undercurrents that I cannot share. Money. Anger. Oliver.
Work. Weight. My frickin' hair stylist even.
Improvements?
Yes. WW helped me to lose 5 lbs. At work, I'm doing my best to make
changes. To seek out feedback and implement it into my work routine. My
personal life: I stopped something that was stunting my growth even tho I
didn't want to. Matt? I don't know. That one's still up for debate.
Trying to forgive. It's difficult when anything he says or does smells
like 2010, 2011. That's the best way I can define my thoughts on the
marriage. If you're wondering, yes we are still married. I'm not
divorced yet. (Is there a difference between "I'm still married" and
"I'm not divorced yet"? Tell me if you think there is. Seriously in the
comment form, tell me what you think.) We have to figure out some
financial stuff, and then we can divorce. The god-awful divorce where I'm sure the hurt
and tempers will flare up and things will get costly. I don't want to
fight, but I'm also not going to let him walk all over me like he's done
in the past. I'm NOT OK with what he's done. It's just a matter of the
law and a sympathetic judge. If the stars align, I may get that
sympathetic judge. The relationship will be ripped into pieces. It's sad
b/c that is what divorce does.
So
it's Sunday morning. This is how I started my day. I'm agitated. I'm
hurt. I have to face my day now. It's almost 11am. I get to do some pro
bono design work. I'm excited about that. Yet, the anger, the flashbacks, the undercurrents, all this just makes me want to lay in bed under the covers. I'll clean my home tonght,
fold and put the laundry away. I'd really like to get my pantry cleared
out. I have so much anger today that throwing things into the garbage makes for a release. I'm sick of my life sometimes. I am so wishing there could be a change. Move from this house. Leave this city. Quit my job. Just something, something has to give! I'm damn tired of this fight to survive.
As
far as the new custody arrangment we worked out, well, I'm starting to
rethink that. I feel like I've given a lot. I'm ruined in many ways
because of this guy who I thought was someone he is not. I've been
patient. I've been kind. I acted way better than I have felt. I treat
him better than he deserves to be treated. I have rarely said a bad word
about him here or to anyone! I don't care much today about that. Maybe you should know what he's really capable of. I know he's my child's
father. But too much has happened. I'd love for Oliver to disown him.
But really. I don't play that way. Oliver needs a father. Those times
when I thought about ending my life I was told a child needs his mother.
Any kind of mother is better than no mother at all. And I'm not just
any kind of mother. I know I'm not perfect. I'm good. I'm good enough to
be Ollie's mom. I'm more than good enough. Same holds true for Matt. It doesn't matter if I think he's a crappy human being. He's Oliver's dad. Oliver needs him. Oliver loves him. There are some redeeming qualities in him. Otherwise, I would not have married him in the first place. I
wrote about this in that post that
mysteriously disappeared: I watched Oliver and Matt interact yesteday.
Play together. Oh how I miss that. Oh how EASY it would be for ANY man
to win my heart if he were to fall in love with my son. Oh how I want
that. I want a family again. I miss miss miss seeing Oliver play with
Matt. But I can't get past, not today, all that has happened. I have not
completely forgiven him. Probably not at all. I just act better than I
feel. I act better than he deserves. So I have to really give this some
thought. If I get nailed to a cross (pardon the mistreatment of that
phrase) for being seven minutes late, then what is my recourse? I've
given a lot. I really have to think and pray about how much more I'm
willing to give.
If
you'd like to pray for me, that would be great. The week has been an
emotional one. Last night was painful as I made the decision not to put my time into another project; and this
morning was painful as I had to interact with ugly feelings with regards to Matt. Yes, I can now officially say I'm in a lot of pain. Divorce,
endings, watching people you care about walk away, and walking away from
something you want because you're not ready for it, these things are
not fun. It takes time to get over it all.
That's what I need right now. Time. Strength. Prayers.
Happy Sunday everyone....
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