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Archive for the ‘Letters to Self’ Category

Rough (& expensive) start to the New Year

23 Jan

Ok, so the 2018 has been a bit of a rough start. I wasn’t expecting everything to go absolutely perfectly, but I hadn’t expected this either. — sigh

Earlier this month I took my car in for an oil change and to have some minor work done (I was having the mechanics try to determine if my car was leaking oil or just burning it) and after getting my vehicle up on the lift they came out to tell me that my fuel tank is leaking. (Not something that I really liked the sound of, especially since my son is in the car with me almost every day.) They took me back to show me what they were talking about and told me that the cost to repair the fuel tank was going to exceed the value of my car. (Not super surprising since my car is 14 years old.) After spending some time talking to the mechanics, asking as many questions as I could think of the scary, stressful inevitability of needing to replace my car stopped being inevitable and became immediately necessary. 🙁

As you can imagine the next few days were stressfully spent trying to find a safe, reliable car that will last as long as possible for a cost that would not be impossible for me to pay. There were a few close calls and I certainly wasn’t lucky enough to find the perfect car (as far as my son is concerned the perfect car would have been one that was the same make, model and color of the old car, especially since that car is the car that he grew up in), but I did find something that I was very pleased about. Of course after finding a possible replacement the next stressful step is that of figuring out how in the hell you are going to pay for it without getting screwed. Aside from the stress of feeling like I had to get a newer car ASAP due to the issue of the leaking fuel tank the money portion of this process is what really freaks me out because it doesn’t end once you finalize things. You have to pay for it every month. Month after month after month until you are lucky enough to have the car paid off and each month you make that payment there is that fear of, how am I going to be able to afford this payment this month on top of everything else that I have to pay? At least that is a fear for me. I’ll be honest, I live paycheck to paycheck. I don’t like it and I want to find a way to change that, but as a single mom who is already working two jobs with very little down time it is hard to break that cycle. It’s hard to even begin trying to figure out how to get out of that cycle, and whether you want to believe it or not it is a major process of trial and error and figuring out what will work best because just when you think you have a system figured out something happens and guess what — you don’t have it figured out at all.

Alright, I have gotten far enough off topic here, so let’s get back to the heart of the matter here.

I knew that my car would have to be replaced in the relatively near future, but had hoped to be able to get at least a couple more years out of her, especially since she had nothing owed on her. She has been free and clear for the majority of her life with me and that has made things easier. My son is struggling with the necessity of her replacement more than I am. This is the car that he has spent the majority of his life so far in and he thinks of her as part of the family. I have explained that we need a safe and reliable vehicle and that as much as I love our older car I need to know that he is going to be safe if there were to be an accident. He seems to understand, but I know that he is still sad about the fact that we are having to say goodbye.

Ultimately what it comes down to is this — it is what it is and I will do anything and everything I can to make it work because that is what I have to do. Doesn’t mean that it is going to be easy, so all I can hope for now is that with the rough (and expensive) start to the new year the year will end on a high note.

 
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Posted in General, Letters to Self

 

Bye Bye Hell Bra

15 Oct

Today I did something that may not seem like a big deal to anyone else, especially any male readers (sorry guys – no offense), but was actually rather significant for me. I bought a new bra. That’s right. I bought a bra. You might be wondering why the simple (or as simple as buying the right bra can ever be) act of buying a bra is so significant to me and the answer is this — The last time that I bought a bra was just after my ex told me that we were going to be getting a divorce and I just needed to get used to it. That means that I have been wearing the same bra throughout the entire process of the divorce and now that everything is as finalized, legally speaking, AND the bra was starting to fall apart it seemed a good time to get a new one. Start clean as it were, rather than wearing the same bra that carried me through (pun intended) all the blood, sweat and tears the nightmare that has been my life for the past two years. (I can assure everyone who may be wondering that the bra was very regularly washed throughout the two years from Hell.) As you might imagine I left the store still wearing the old bra but changed into one of the new ones (I bought two) as soon as I could.

I have kept the old bra because I feel like I should be doing something more with it than just throwing it away. The thought has occurred to me that I should burn it, but aside from NOT having anywhere to do that it feels kind of like a cliche thing to do. On the other hand I also feel like I am overthinking this like I have been guilty of doing for just about everything over the past two years and that I should stop treating this like it’s a big deal and just throw the damned thing away already!

Whether I am over thinking it or not it does feel like somewhat of a milestone and therefore something that should be and deserves to be acknowledged and made note of, so here I am making note of it. I did not get anything outrageous, sexy or frilly. Instead I bought two very straightforward, functional and good quality bras. Aside from a difference in color (one a nude/flesh color and one a gray) they are the exact same style of bra. Knowing that I am one of those women who wears my bras to death and will go long periods of time between buying a bra I decided that I was going to invest in quality bras and having two on hand is always a good idea.

At the very least today’s purchase fulfilled a basic and essential clothing necessity. A little bit higher up on the ladder there is a symbolism to the act of getting a new bra and disposing of the old — a new bra for a new chapter of my life. At the best, and as my friend Kamria might say, now I will not be putting all of the old pain, heartbreak and otherwise negative energy from the past two years on every day giving me a chance to truly start healing and moving forward. Whatever the case might be there is something uniquely nice and satisfying about getting and wearing a new bra. Thank you to the sales lady, Jessie, for not only helping me find the right bra, but making it a smooth and stress free process. It was much appreciated. Today wasn’t a Monday, the first day of a month or a season or the beginning of anything at all, but with your help this morning I was able to get out of the old bra and into a new one. Bye bye Hell Bra — Hello beautiful new bra!

 
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Posted in Letters to Self, Wonders & Ramblings

 

No Time to Breathe

12 Oct

For the first time ever I am starting to feel like I may finally be making some progress in coming to terms with this unwanted divorce. I am sure that, at least in part, it has something to do with the fact that things were finalized last month, but I feel like there are other factors that are having their influence as well, which is good, even if I don’t know what all those factors are at the moment. Even with this feeling of progression there have been many times over this past month where I have felt isolated and alone. Forgotten and unloved. I have been fortunate throughout this whole nightmare that when I have experienced such feeling they have not been overwhelming. The intensity of those feelings were not lessened this past month, but I still feel like I, or at least my emotions, have taken a small baby step in the direction of acceptance.

Act One of the nightmare is over, but Act Two has just begun and it will be just as stressful and overwhelming as the first Act. In fact it will probably be more so because the only real difference is that there will be new and more reasons to feel stressed and overwhelmed. Already there is SO much that I need to address and I do not feel that I have the strength to confront. As with Act One there was no time to take even a single breath let alone acknowledge that my life up to that point was over and little more than a dream.

I do not know what will happen in what remains of this year and even more scary than that I can not even begin to guess what next year will hold. All I can do is keep breathing, putting one foot in front of the other and making the best choices I can with what is available to me. I would not consider myself a woman of faith, I don’t think I ever have, but with the feeling of progress I have maybe I will start to find some comfort in these words. Not because they are addressed to God, but because they may be the only words — besides those of my son telling me he loves me — in which I CAN find comfort.

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I can not change,
The courage to change the things I can,
And the wisdom to know the difference.

 
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Posted in Letters to Self, Wonders & Ramblings

 

So Much So Little

20 Mar

I have said it before and I will say it again and again and again in the time and years to come. There are SO many things that I want to do and SO little time to be able to do all those things that I really want to do. I love knitting, counted cross stitch, letter writing, cooking, movies, writing in my blog and so many other things. I have about a hundred different knitting projects that I want to try, at least 5 or 6 different counted cross stitch patterns that I REALLY want to make, I don’t get to write letters to friends and family like I used to (hell I don’t even get to email people half the time), I enjoy cooking, but I don’t have a lot of time, space, money or energy to cook and when I do it is usually for many more people that just my son and myself (it is really difficult to cook for just the two of us), I would love to have more time to work on this blog and making it the kind of blog that I want and to some degree need it to be.

I could go on and on about all the the things that I want to do, but I can’t and shouldn’t forget all of the things that I am already doing and already trying to find time to work on. I had a moment this morning where I thought and even said to my friend Kamria that I am probably trying to do too much because on top of and before everything else in my world there is my son. From the moment I found out I was pregnant what is best for him has always been my first and foremost concern. As sad as it would make me I would drop everything that I enjoy doing if that is what I needed to do for my son. I do have concerns about failing my son either because I am doing too much or not doing enough. One of my biggest fears is that I will fail him. I addressed all of this and more in my previous blog entry of Super Mom or Super Bomb (if you haven’t read that entry I hope you will check it out). Honestly, how am I ever going to do all the things that I need to do and still be able to do all the things that I really want to do.

I am a firm believer in multitasking and I think I am generally a pretty good multitasker, but you can only multitask so many things at a time, unless you have more than 1 pair of arms or the ability to clone yourself at will and if anyone out there knows how to start cloning yourself at will I would appreciate your willingness to teach me that skill. My ability to multitask is definitely being tested now that I am a single mother and I am going to have to continue to develop that ability if I am going to have any chance to be able to do the things that I need to do, let alone the ones that I really want to do. Regardless of how strong my multitasking skills become I have no doubt that forever and always I will feel like there is SO much to do and SO little time to do it in.

 
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Posted in Letters to Self, Wonders & Ramblings

 

Not at home in my “home”

22 Feb

Just over 1 year ago my son and I left the only home he had ever known and moved into our current apartment. Just over a year later I STILL do not feel at home in this place. It is not my home, it is just the place where I am living and I have no idea how to change that, or if I even want to. I still do not like calling this place “home” and only do for a couple of reasons. 1) For my son, so that he knows that his home is with me and because he is really too young to understand that despite the fact that we live here it doesn’t feel like home to me. 2) It’s a force of habit for me to call wherever I am staying home. I could be on a trip, staying in a hotel and I would call it home for however long I am staying in the room.

I could spell out in any number of repetitive ways that this isn’t my home. As a matter of fact I know that there have been several instances in other entries where I have said either the same thing or something similar and while I really do feel that way I don’t see the point in saying it over and over again. This is one of the times where that kind of repetition doesn’t help, in fact it may actually do more damage than good, but it is a truth that I can not escape. (And to be honest I am not really sure how else to say what I am feeling.)

Maybe it would be different if I had been the one to actually want the divorce, or if I had been able to find an apartment that really resonated with me rather than one that was going to be available when I needed it to be and who knows maybe it will feel different after everything is technically and legally finalized rather than being kept in limbo. I don’t expect my feelings toward my apartment to change quickly, if at all, but I can’t and won’t deny that I am feeling that way.

I have spent the last week trying to not be aware of the date because I can remember the date that my son and I picked up our keys to this place and the days spent driving back and forth across town to get everything moved. Desperately trying to stay in control of my emotions because I was being helped by people that I didn’t feel comfortable being emotionally honest around. Fighting the part of me that I couldn’t prevent from silently wishing that this was all a nightmare and that I would wake up to find that my home and my life were still in tact. Trying to be strong because my son deserved for me to be and knowing that I was failing him because it was all an act. Knowing that I was doing what I NEEDED to do and resenting that fact. I remember so many conflicting emotions, most of which I still struggle with on a daily basis.

Just like with New Year’s — I don’t want or need to be reminded how much time has passed. It’s passed. It’s FAR more time that it feels like it has been. Being reminded of that fact is just adding insult to injury and I have to tell you I really do think I am suffering enough. I don’t know how, or if I even want to change the way I am feeling with regards to this apartment not being home. That may sound bad, but one of the presiding reasons behind that thought is the fact that my son and I may well be moving again in a few months so that we can be in a better school district for when he starts going to school. Knowing that there is a possible move on the horizon begs the question of is it better to start feeling at home here because it would be a sign that I am maybe starting to come to terms with everything that is going on or wait until after the move and have this place be a place of transition that can theoretically be left behind as my son and I start to move forward. (Right now there is no way of telling whether or not everything will be legally finalized by then, but it is a possibility and IF things are finalized by then waiting to try and feel at home somewhere new would be more logically understandable.)

Whether I decide to wait and figure it out or decide to start making a major effort now the fact remains that no matter where my son and I live I am still completely surrounded by things that do and will always remind me of the world and life that were ripped away from me. There is really no way around this particular roadblock. Not even if I had all the money in the world, which just adds to the feeling of helplessness about what is going on. I don’t expect anyone out there to have any answers, but I definitely don’t have any and don’t know where else to turn. I’m lost, I’m stuck, I’m all alone and I’m not at home in my own “home”.

 
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Posted in Letters to Self

 

Don’t Be Mine

15 Feb

It was 15 years ago this weekend, more specifically Valentine’s Day, that my STBX proposed to me. We had been together just over a year at that point and I had really been hoping that he would propose but had not necessarily expected him to ask me on Valentine’s Day. So this weekend has been REALLY difficult for me. Adding to the general difficulty of the weekend I was stuck at work and am without my reason for living (my son) this weekend. (I know that some people would not understand it or would maybe even say that I am being overly dramatic, but the truth is that when my son is not with me my heart is missing. So this Valentine’s Day I was left feeling unwanted, unloved and missing my heart and reason.) I know that somehow I will get through this because it isn’t the first Valentine’s Day since the nightmare began and I have made it through every other difficult day I have encountered so far, but I don’t know how. Honestly I don’t know how I have made it this far of with this much sanity still in tact.

I had hoped that working this weekend would help to distract me from the fact that it isn’t just another weekend where I am required to allow my son to visit my STBX and to a certain degree it worked, but there was more than enough time for my mind to be able to wander and get lost. (It doesn’t take long for almost 16 years of memories to start haunting me, especially when it is quiet.) Now that I am at home I am not doing much better. A little bit, but I think that is because of two simple things. 1) I am able to have the TV on to either watch or just have something on in the background and 2) I am writing about what I am going through, which has always been rather therapeutic for me. I am struggling a bit to express what I am going through because I am trying to keep things vague, but also because the emotions are so jumbled that they can be hard to sift through, especially when I am really wanting to get them out.

Part of me has felt rather pathetic this weekend for a variety of reasons both due to internal and external sources. I feel pathetic because I know that I am not the only one who is struggling through Valentine’s Day, but I am only able to think about my struggle. I feel pathetic because I am more than 16 months into this process and emotionally feel no closer to dealing with this. All I want to do is get to a point where I can be indifferent to my STBX’s bullying, insults, threats, hypocrisy and everything else that he throws at me. I feel pathetic because I can’t hate the one man in the world that I have real legitimate cause to hate. I don’t think that hating people is a good thing, but I can’t help but wonder if there is something wrong with me because I can not actually hate the one person that it would be understandable for me to hate.

A very good friend of mine was able to come over last night and we “celebrated” in a very unconventional way. We had plenty of chocolate, but it was enjoyed as we watched a couple of bloody, horror movies. What can I say? We felt like honoring the Valentine’s Day Massacre rather than the lovey-dovey take on the day. It was nice to be able to spend some time with her because we are both busy and don’t get to spend as much time together as we would like to do.

My life will never be the same as a result of this divorce. Specific days, such as Valentine’s Day will never be the same either and I expect that it will be many years before I am able to even consider celebrating Valentine’s Day in any kind conventional way, IF I ever reach that point again. Until I do get to that point I am just hoping to be look at Valentine’s Day as just any other day of the week. Right now that is the best that I can hope for.

 
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Posted in Letters to Self

 

Ghosts of Christmas Past

14 Dec

For as long as I can remember Christmas has been my favorite time of year (despite the fact that I do not like the cold). As you can well imagine this year is proving to be very difficult for me. I am doing my best to hang on to all the things that I love about this holiday, but do not feel like I am being very successful. My tree is up and decorated. Our stockings are hanging. I have sent out Christmas cards (including to people whose friendship has evaporated over the past year). Have already had a gift exchange with one of my friends already. I have been talking to my son about Santa and we are going to be seeing Santa later this coming week, but I am not really enjoying it like I usually do. I know that is normal and to be expected, but that knowledge does not make this struggle any easier. I am trying to forge ahead and am even trying to think of traditions that my son and I can start to develop (since it is only his 3rd Christmas I could easily get away with starting new traditions), but all I can think about are the traditions that his father and I built up over the last 16 years and how Christmas will never be the same. For the rest of my life Christmas will always be fractured and shadowed by sadness.

I am not able to let go of the memories and I have no control over when they force themselves upon me (again very normal, but they do make things VERY difficult). I don’t know what to do. For so many years (13 of the past 16 years to be precise) Christmas has been all about my husband. Trying to make it exciting and enjoyable for him was part of what made it exciting and enjoyable for me. (His Christmases weren’t very nice growing up.) I am trying to shift gear to focusing on making Christmas exciting and enjoyable for my son, but it is easier said than done. My soon-to-be-ex and I were supposed to be doing that together and now all I can think about is how for the rest of my life I will never have a full and uninterrupted Christmas with my son which means that every year I will be spending about half of each Christmas by myself desperately wishing that my son was at home with me where he belonged.

This year my parents are coming to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas Day (and maybe another day or two) with us, which should be helpful, but I also fear that it will things more difficult by strengthening the reminder of just how different things are going to be from now on. I like it when my parents visit and usually feel like the visit isn’t long enough, especially when my dad is here with my mom (mom is the one who visits the most, it is more difficult for my father to visit because he is still working full-time). Since I insist that Christmas Day be a super lazy day I look forward to just being able to hang out with my parents instead of trying to accomplish a million and one things.

I have been surprised to realize this weekend that most of the things on my Christmas prep list are actually done (especially the things that I can’t help being on the list like stressing over what to do about traditions and what Christmas is going to be like from now on), but there is still more to do and time is very quickly running out. The closer we get to the holiday the more stressed out about it I become and one of my biggest fears is that I will fail to make Christmas something magical for my son.

List of Christmas things to do:

  • Put up and decorate tree – Check
  • Put up stockings – Check
  • Send Christmas cards – Check
  • Debate and stress over traditions – Check
  • Find a time to go and see Santa – Check
  • Go see Santa
  • Buy presents for my son
  • Figure out what to have for Christmas dinner (previously traditional meal or something different?)
  • Worry about failing to make Christmas something special for my son – Check
  • Feel like I have forgotten multiple things for the prep list – Check

I’m in as good a place as I can be for this coming Christmas (without some impossible Christmas wishes/miracles coming true that is). Now all I have to do is find a way to avoid being haunted by my Ghosts of Christmas Past. — sigh

 
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Posted in Letters to Self

 

Emotional vs Logical

10 Nov

I am undecided as to whether or not this is the best time to be writing. By that I mean that I am REALLY struggling and emotional right now. Half of my brain is saying that writing will help to get it out, help me to sort through everything that I am feeling and be able to handle it better. The other half is saying that my being extremely emotional right now is exactly the reason why I should NOT be writing. Whatever I write is less likely to make sense, there are other things that I should be focused on and let’s be honest I am far more likely to write something that I will regret later, even if I really do mean it. I do not know which one I agree with and despite my best efforts and my wishes neither side will shut up a leave me alone. All of that being said I would like to apologize in advance to anyone reading this entry. You are most likely in for a long, confusing, profanity filled read that will leave you wondering what the fuck you just read and whether or not reading it again will help it all make sense or only confuse you more. I am especially sorry about all of that if reading this entry is your first foray into my blog. Regardless I hope that the following entry doesn’t scare you off. I don’t know what else to say, so I guess — deep breath — here goes nothing.

Emotional brain
I’m alone. I’m lonely and to restate my status from my blog’s FB page “Really struggling right now, made worse by the fact that I have to pretend to be ok because I am at work. Don’t know how to express where I am emotionally and doubt anyone could TRULY understand even if the words existed. Add to all of that the fact that I don’t want to socialize with anyone right now, but I really don’t want to be alone. Where does that leave me? In desperate need of the kind of hug that only someone who truly loves you can give with no one to give it to me. :'( “

Logical brain
I am not alone. I have friends and family who care about me and will help me in any way that they can. I am not the first and most certainly will not be the last to go through any of this and if I was better at math I might actually be able to figure out exactly how many men and women in the world are going through the exact same (not just similar, but the exact same) situation as me.

EB
I can’t stop caring. I can’t stop caring about him, what he thinks about me, how he is going to react to something that I say/do/write/etc. How do I stop it?!?!? He obviously doesn’t care about how the things he says or does affect me. I hate the fact that I care and he doesn’t. I want to hate him and I hate the fact that I can’t.

LB
It’s completely natural after all these years that I still love him and still care about what he thinks. In a normal person (if there is such a thing) those feelings aren’t just shut off like flipping a switch. Hating him isn’t going to help anything, it’ll actually make things worse. As much as I would like to change things from being what they are I can’t and hating him won’t make it any easier. After all I still have to deal with him when this is all over and fighting any more than necessary is only going to prolong the emotional pain that I have to work through.

EB
I am sick and fucking tired of always being the bigger and better person! I absolutely hate myself for not being more of the vindictive bitch that he tells everyone that he talks to I am. “You could have handled things differently” he says. You’re right! I could have. I could have had your ass arrested and charged back in January and I should have! I had the police on the fucking phone, but I was too scared about the fact that he still had keys to the apartment and was too scared of what would happen after this whole fucking nightmare was over because I had been told that getting sole custody was never going to happen so would have to find a way to be able to “work” with him no matter what. I should have just done it. At least then there would have been more of a chance of limiting visitation and laying the ground work for sole custody.

LB
Being the bigger person is a good thing. In the long run being the bigger and better person is a good thing. It proves that I am not the kind of person that he says that I am. It proves that I am stronger than he is. It proves that despite having my really bad and emotional days that I am more emotionally and mentally mature than he is. And most importantly it shows my son the kind of person that I want him to grow up to be. Not filing a police report doesn’t change what happened. I may not have filed a police report, but there are people, who can be called upon if necessary, who are aware of the details of the specific event and who have also witnessed his behavior toward and treatment of me in the past. I many not have reported it immediately, but that does not mean that it didn’t happen, that it isn’t potentially relevant and that it can’t be reported as part of another incident in the future.

EB
I hate feeling (as I do right now) — well to quote a line from the movie Titanic — “I feel like I’m standing in the middle of a crowded room, screaming at the top of my lungs, and no one even looks up.” I don’t want useless, emotionless platitudes, those only make me feel worse. I want what no one right now can give me. I want to feel connected. Connected to someone who knows me, someone who truly understands me, someone who loves me so deeply that they can not imagine their lives without me in it and would fight like hell to keep me in it. What’s more I don’t want to have to tell someone “I’m really hurting right now and I need you.” I want someone to notice my silent struggle and to make a gesture instead of waiting until I come to them.

LB
Everybody else has their own lives. They have things that they are dealing with, good and bad and because they are all dealing with their own lives they don’t always realize or aren’t always available. Also, those who do actually care about me probably don’t want to keep asking how I am doing because they don’t want to upset me. They are trying to be considerate and thinking, hoping, believing that if I need them for support that I’ll ask them. I am sure that they do not realize just how much pain I am in and how difficult it is to express everything.

EB
I hate the fact that there are SO many questions that I want to ask and things that I want to say to him.

LB
I’ll never get to say or ask them and even if I did I would never get an answer and he wouldn’t care about anything that you have to say.

EB
I hate the fact that he tries to treat this and has even gone so far as to say that this isn’t personal. Of course it’s fucking personal!! This is our lives, our family! There is nothing more personal than that!! Stop trying to turn this into a business transaction, especially since you seem to get offended when you think you are being asked to “sell out your son”.

LB
I know what he is like. When things get too tough for him he prefers to give up and walk away. That’s what he is trying to do now. He doesn’t want to feel guilty for what he has done.

This entry has taken several days to write this entry. Being emotional, trying to work and suffering from migraines (damn stress and changes in the weather) have made it difficult to be able to focus as well as find the best words to express everything. Whether or not this entry has been beneficial remains to be seen. (I do believe it is my longest entry to date though.) I’ll just keep taking one breath after another, keep trying to focus on one task at a time and just make it until my son is home and in my arms. — Breathe in. Breathe Out.

 

 
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Posted in Letters to Self

 

No Worse for the Wear

06 Nov

I has been some weeks since I have felt mentally focused enough to be able to write. There have been times where I have wanted to write something, but have been unable to sustain the required focus to actually get something written. About 3 weeks ago I had one of the most difficult, upsetting and emotional days I have had throughout this nightmare and the result was that I needed to withdraw as much as possible from anything voluntarily social. I still tried to post little things on my Twitter and/or Facebook accounts and as I have looked back over the entries on those accounts over the past 3 weeks I am relatively surprised at not only how many posts I have been able to make, but how, for the most part, they are not dwelling on what I was struggling with. (More and more I am pleased with the fact that I decided to set up those accounts because they do allow me to be able to quickly write about something, in the moment, when sitting down to write at length isn’t an option. I look forward to being able to continue to develop those accounts as this blog continues to grow and develop.)

I am finally getting back to a place where it is easier for me to want to be a little more social. I still have bad days and REALLY fucking shitty bad days, but there are at least a few days where the thought of doing something that I am NOT REQUIRED to do, but does mean that I will have to interact with other people doesn’t make me want to lock all my doors, close all my curtains, shut off my phone and pretend that I am not part of the world for the day. Alas some, ok – ok, MOST of my friends and family have suffered a lack of contact as a result of the extremely horrible day about 3 weeks ago, but they have been supportive and understanding. Thank you.

To anyone out there who has been following this blog and wondering where I have been, what’s been going on and whether or not I would ever post again I want to say thank you for your patience and understanding as well. If you are visiting my blog for the first time then welcome and I hope that you will not only consider coming back to visit on a regular basis, but maybe telling others about it as well.

As for me I will continue to take things one moment at a time, to try and be honest with myself and others about how I am feeling and why I am feeling that way without letting that emotion, whatever it may be, getting the better of me. I will continue to bury my focus in those things that are most important to me, my son, my family/friends, my knitting and trying to be the best person I can be in each of those areas. I’ve made it this long and this far. Every minute of every day has been a struggle and it has undoubtedly been the longest, most stressful year of my life, but I am still here and with my son beside me I will fight and claw my way through the next year as well. I’ve made it this far and hopefully no worse for the wear.

 
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Posted in Letters to Self

 

Silence is not golden

06 Oct

Me, Myself and I,

I still can’t quite believe that it has already been a year of living in this nightmare. (That is sadly a phrase that I have said many times lately, but honestly I do not know how else to explain it.) That realization isn’t Earth shattering, but it has brought some things that I have noticed on the periphery of my thoughts to the forefront. For example, even on the quietest and calmest days I still do not have or find peace. On days like that (and Saturday happened to be one of those days) I find that I have a tendency to show very little emotion to anyone but my family, which is usually just my son, and even then the emotions that I do show are subdued.

Even on those quiet and calm days, when some how I am able to enjoy something, like my knitting, my movies or letter writing that enjoyment is very short-lived because something either happens or something pops into my head with no warning. This always happens, without fail. There is nothing I can do about it, but somehow get through the moment, then the next and the moment after that and then somehow get to the end of the day and eventually go to sleep. None of which is easy. If it was I guess I wouldn’t need to write this blog to help process everything.

I was having a conversation with a fellow member of my online support group a few days ago and they said something about the world moving on without them and I couldn’t help but respond the following: “It has. I may still be in the world, but I’m not really a part of it. My son and I are really the only ones being affected by what’s going on and since he is too young to understand it has been easier for him to adjust. The world around me has, in fact, continued on as if nothing ever happened.” The person I was talking to was kind enough to say that they were sorry that we were both going through something so difficult and painful and I responded by saying “I appreciate the sentiment and the feeling behind it, but it’s not your fault and there is nothing that you or anyone else can do to change it. There is no point in even trying. It is what it is and right now all I can do is continue to struggle putting one foot in front of the other and hope that someday I might start to feel ok and then someday after that maybe actually feel good. Until then ok is the best that I can hope for or expect.” Some of my friends and family, my sister in particular, tell me that they think I am being negative when I say things like that. I don’t know if they are right or not. What I do know is that I don’t mean to be. I’m just trying to be honest with myself and everyone around me about what and how I am feeling. Something, which surprisingly enough, is difficult for me to do.

I have never done well with silence. Silence makes me anxious and nervous. I have an easier time falling asleep with the TV on than I do when it is quiet, even when I am exhausted. With all of these subconscious realizations becoming fully conscious ones I am surprised by just how non-stop my brain really is, ESPECIALLY when it is quiet. I don’t know if that means anything, but I guess in my case, and especially now, silence is not golden.

 
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