Holidailies

In attempts to get myself writing more, I have registered with Holidailies. In which I make a promise to post something every day from December 1 to January 1. So look forward to THAT. Aren't you thrilled? If you ever thought of starting a blog, this would be a good time. The minimum is 50 words, and you can upload it to the main portal and maybe you will get selected for being the "special blog of the day". Of course that will be my goal, because while I am not egotistical, I crave acceptance- so perhaps you will even find something worthwhile to read here. comments comments comments.

I think maybe doing this thru the holiday season will be a good thing for me. Holidays are usually pretty tough on me, seasonal depression or "too broke to celebrate." This year I will be rich with LOVE....

Yeah, can't even say that with a straight face.

So anyway, stop by on occasion and see whats up with me. I will try to be funny, I swear. I will try not to bitch about any of my husbands (ex or e), my bank account, or my mother. Well, I will try anyway. I can't promise to be cheery- but I promise to be HERE. I am hoping it will improve my writing.

Hold on to your [add gender specific body parts here], ladies and gents, I'm going to attempt personal growth!!

Confession:
I buy paper or foam plates and plastic utensils so I don't have to do as many dishes.
I love throwing it all away after dinner!!

www.postsecret.com

The E-husband

A brief return of the grumpy-cunt whiner.

Today is his birthday and it's weird to not spend it with him. We've talked, about 5 times today. We had sort of a fight last night. Not a fight, but a conversation that had an ugly undertone. It was about moving on. Who does it first, and why.

He is not ready to be in any kind of relationship. He feels hurt by me, that I somehow betrayed him by leaving. He is entitled to his feelings, but I don't agree. He says he is in no way wanting to get into a relationship. I feel differently. I am lonely. I've BEEN lonely for a long time. Wanting the comfort of a man in my life. A partner. Moving on to me, seems obvious. If I didn't want to move on and 'date'- well, I guess I would have stayed with him. I have had friends encourage me to stay single. Don't date- just be alone. Find out who you are.

For starters, this is all with the assumption that I don't know who I am. Secondly, I've BEEN alone. E-husband and I lived in this house together- and took care of the boys. But we stopped being a "couple" a long time ago. Holidays were obligatory. Kisses were token. And niceties were few and far between. It had been a long time since he held my hand. Since he said grabbed me in the hallway and kissed me. Since we had anything that remotely resembled intimacy. Being alone and single is not going to make me realize that I don't want these things. I already know that I enjoy the company of a good man who will hold my hand, grab me for a kiss, and all that other stuff. Just because I got my ass kicked in this marriage, does not make me unsuitable to be around people.

Anyway, e-husband feels that I made it thru the addiction, but left when he got truly sick. I guess if you wanted to look at a timeline, that is true. But it was not so simple and to see it that way, well, I guess you would have to really be on that side. And we are just on different sides. I miss him, I really do. He is the man I will probably love above all other men in my life- and I am truly heartbroken that things ended up this way.

But I started my mourning period years ago. It was at least two years ago that I really started to have doubts that this marriage would withstand the pressure we put on it. A year ago, I knew it wouldn't. And it took another year before I had the guts to walk away. So this is not a fresh wound for me. I was seeing scabs and scars before the day he packed his things. Does this mean that I'm over him? No, not by a long shot. But do I think I'm ready to move on. Yes, definately.

What I am afraid of, however- is telling the e-husband. Hey, I've got a date (if I had a date). I thought this was to mean that I wasn't ready to date. But I suspect, after having this conversation with e-husband that the reason I'm not ready to tell him is because I know, or at least I think, it will really hurt him. It will be 'final' for him and I fear that it will send him into a nasty ugly depression. That the current civil relationship we enjoy will be over and I will lose him, again. I am afraid, because like always, his feelings are more important than mine.

ugh- this "being honest with myself" thing- sucks ass.

Why can't I write this paper?

I got a wild hair today, so instead of writing my 10 page sexual harassment paper- I put up my Christmas tree. It's a fake tree so it can be up as long as I want it to. I assembled it on the kids patio, and then could not get it thru slider without moving half the kids room. So I heave-ho'ed it over the gate and then retrieved it outside, dragging it thru the front door.

What I could not do, is find the RIGHT Christmas Tree stand. We have two of them. The one that I could find, was the wrong one. The supports are too skinny- and so is the base of my fake tree. I tried to thicken it up, but that didn't help. So the tree is up, but it's sort of LEANING in the wall. I called my ex and he reminded me that we bought another stand. Where it IS?- that is a different story. I know it's here- I think I have seen it recently. I'm sure it's in plain sight, but I can't see it because it's been sitting in front of me for so long. So now I have the leaning Christmas tree- no lights, no decorations. But it's up- well, it's in the house.

Last year we did not put it up because we were depressed, broke and not in the mood. This year, damn it- I want Christmas. Still broke, a little depressed- but I'm not going to skip it this year. This year is going to be different. And it starts with me, putting up my 8 foot Christmas tree on my own. My estranged husband is staying with us next weekend for my youngest beastie's birthday. (Jaws- I totally stole that term!!!) So e-husband will decorate with us and I will keep the tree up until after my oldest beastie goes back to his dad in January. The beastie boys (I totally worked that in) will enjoy the Christmas tree as long as they want to. It's a fake tree. I can hang hearts on it and make it a Valentine's Day tree. Hang plastic eggs for easter.

Well, I COULD.

The sex life of mothers- less than a ballpark.

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Misty water colors

It always cracks me up when people imitate turkeys. On one of my favorite radio shows, every year they call the Butterball turkey hotline and ask them how to catch a live turkey and kill it, and there is a turkey running around in the background, which is really just a guy making turkey sounds. It's a stupid little bit, but it cracks me up.

I am often, amused by stupid humor.

The ability to swallow is a big deal in hospitals. They have whole departments devoted to it. It's a big part of my job to make sure that patients are checked for thier ability to sip some water without choking after they have a stroke. So I thought we should make buttons to remind people of this important step that say "Do You Swallow?" I thought it was brilliant. People laugh when I tell them.
What does a girl have to do to be taken seriously?

Take the quick test here on the left to find out your risk for stroke.
Just do it.

So I have been getting along quite wonderfully with my estraged husband lately. He comes across quite charming when he isn't driving me crazy. I won't see him today. He commented how weird that would be that we won't be together for Thanksgiving- but then I remembered last year, I took the kids to my friends for Thanksgiving and he slept all day. So I didn't really see him then either. His memories of the past few years are slightly different than mine.

My favorite memory is of Thanksgiving, many years ago. Probably the year my dad died, or the year before, 1979 or 1980. My dad had us kids for Thanksgiving, and probably had a pretty simple meal planned. And I remember that alot of people brought dishes over for our Thanksgiving. My aunts (mom's sisters), neighbors, even his landlord. I vaguely remember it being a very big dinner in the end.
Those memories get farther and farther away each year.
Some days I can't even remember what he looks like. And all of those memories are just photographs. My father looks exactly like the picture. My memories are photographs. Sometimes when I see pictures I have never seen before, I think "He never looked like THAT!" That's because I don't have that picture.

I wonder what memories my children will have?

Super-what?

It's been a while since I've been in this good of a mood. I feel pretty good right now. Like there are possibilities and I don't need to jump off a cliff or anything to escape my miserable existence. I am trying to just 'go with it'. Find the flow, and go with it.

Or maybe I just had too much coffee and antidepressants. I'm sort of buzzing.

I am off school for the rest of the week and I have a 10 page paper due on Monday. 10 pages on Sexual Coersion/ Sexual Harassment in Education. I stayed away from sexual harassment in the workplace- I am more of a harassER than a harassEE. I think about how many men I have dated, or screwed that I worked with back in the day (which was a Wednesday)...jeez- what a trampy little broad I was back then.

Yes, back then.
Not now.
Then.

I didn't think of myself as Trampy back then, I was experimental. Liberated. Uninhibited. A SuperTramp if you will.


But not now.....

I am not screwing any physicians.
No Nurses.
No Physical Therapists or Security Guards.

Although I have made a mental list if I have option. If somehow I could get a smorgasboard of the men I'd like to sample. You know, just borrow with authorization and share the "royalties."



Ha, that was funny.

So at your place of work, if you work in a big place- who would you sleep with if you could do it and not get fired, caught, divorced or kicked out onto the street? There's always SOMEONE. Girls discuss this stuff. Who we'd sleep with, who we thought had the biggest dick. Yes, sometimes we girls can be pretty trashy. Men we'd sleep with, women we might sleep- well maybe that was just me. I TOLD YOU- trampy.

I don't apoligize for it. Why bother??

Sternberg says...?

Tonights reading in my Sex Ed class is about love and different theories of romantic love. People have done studies on the theories of love. Oh that's rich... So anyway we have Sternberg's Triangular Theory of Love which basically links Intimacy, Commitment and Passion and depending on what you have will equal the kind of love you have. Apparently it's best to have all three, duh. Here's a run down:

• Intimacy + Passion = Romantic Love. No commitment, like a summer romance.
• Passion + Commitment = Fatuous love. Commitment based on passion but no time for intimacy to develop, shallow, like a whirlwind courtship that eventually fades out.
• Commiment + Intimacy = Companionate Love. Long Term committed friendship, such as a marriage in which the passion has faded.

• Intimacy alone = Liking
• Passion alone = Infatuation
• Commitment alone = Empty Love

There are other theories, but I like this one.

So there you have it. I can now find out what was wrong with every relationship I've ever had. Viola! I am not emotionally retarded. Nor am I dead inside nor am I just an ice queen. My relationships lack intimacy. I'm not a perfectionist, maybe I'm just impatient.

I can commit and I can be passionate, but eventually I will start to hate most of the men I spend time with. I have said several times, "I love being married- it's my husband I can't stand."

---

I long for a man I won't hate. I'm not generally a man hater although there's a compelling argument there.

I have been called a maneater. But I think that is a whole different triangle theory.
Something to do with control and who gets to be on top the first time.
Guess who wins that one- every time??
You decide...
---
My mind is whirring tonight with dreams of...
Rob Lowe.
I was going to say something brilliant and smart there, and then I heard his voice.
Rob Lowe... on my TV.
Ah, the Gods are smiling on me.
---
Romantic love sounds lovely. Rob Lowe is lovely. I think I'd like to try passion and intimacy, with no commitment
with Rob Lowe.

Nobody said love was perfect, but that doesn't mean it isn't love- that sounds like a "Get out of slut free" card for me!!! Thank you Mr. Sternberg!

It's that's moving up- then I'm....

MOVIN OUT!!!

I have moved to a new blog. I feel like this one is not really serving the purpose it once did and I know I'm linked to an Recovery Search Engine. I will leave this one up and please feel free to comment to the archives or ask me any questions. I am happy to talk to anyone who wants to talk program with me- because I truly feel that it saved me.

For those of you who just want to keep up with my crazy musings, I'm here.

You'll figure it out.

Ciao Baby!!!

New and Improved

I decided to move this over cause my old blog was meant to be set up for Al-Anon and really I have ventured away from it. No reason other than I just don't have the time to commit. I was linked to a recovery site so I don't want people looking for a recovery link to venture over and listen to me bitch about things not related, but I didn't want to take it down, so I decided to start new- fresh. It was having the not so fresh feeling. So leave me comments, bitches. Stopped by- got bored, left. I'm a whore for traffic, I'm a whore for a lot of things. I'm famous in my own living room.

I will start out with one of those stupid 100 things about me, and hopefully I can think of 100. Enjoy me! And leave me comments.

1. Julie, Do Ya Love Me is a song from Bobby Sherman. I've had it sung to me lots of times.
2. I don't mind that I drive a mini-van, but sometimes I wish it was small and sexy.
3. I have three sons and am separated from my husband of 7 years.
4. I don't like carrots, but my mother still puts carrots on my plate and I if she isn't looking, I throw them away.
5. I love my mothers cooking more than anyone else's.
6. I am content to know that I will never cook as well as she does.
7. My eldest brother is a US Marine.
8. I do not tell him often enough how proud I am of him, even though I suspect my opinion means very little.
9. My older brother is NOT a US Marine.
10. I almost never tell him how much I love him, but I hope he knows it anyway.
11. My older sister is my hero- even though we don't always agree.
12. My mother is the voice in my head. I will probably never stop wanting her approval.
13. I realize I will never have her approval- but I know she loves me.
14. Sometimes it really sucks being the youngest, nobody expects much, until I disappoint them, and then I am sadly reminded that 'they expected more from me'.
15. My real father died when I was 9. I have very little memories of him.
16. My first step dad died when I was 22. I try to block out the bad memories, and focus on the good ones.
17. When I say, "My dad" I am usually not talking about my real father.
18. I think about my real father every day when I go to work.
19. I work in a hospital. The last place I saw my real father was in a hospital.
20. I have serious daddy issues.
21. I have abandonment issues.
22. I have generalized anxiety disorder.
23. I take medication for it.
24. When I forget to take it, after about three days I become an unbearable bitch.
24. I am not USUALLY a bitch.
25. I think that being in love is the greatest feeling in the world.
26. I realize that being in love is not enough to make a relationship work.
27. I have loved many men who I could not make it work with.
28. Nice boys rarely know how to deal with me.
29. Bad boys break my heart.
30. I have very little heart left to break, so I think I'm safe either way.
31. I went to my 10 year reuinion in 1999 and I was the only one who gained a pound in 10 years.
32. I met my husband in high school.
33. I think that my husband really is the love of my life. Refer to #26.
34. I don't know if I will ever get married again, but I hope so.
35. I am learning to appreciate the joys of being single.
36. Sometimes I watch my kids cartoons, even if they are not home.
37. My younger step-sister, is a good and true friend, even though I think we would kill each other if we tried to figure the other person out.
38. My family is the base of who I am.
39. Sometimes I feel very different from them- but I think as a group, it all makes sense.
40. My brothers girlfriend is one of the most amazing women I know, even though I don't think she gets me either.
41. I have a friend who has cancer and I am terrified for her because she doesn't seem to be scared at all.
42. I hate that I am at the age where my friends will start to get things like cancer.
43. I am in the middle of a mid life crisis, even though I think that if I define it as a crisis, it's no longer a crisis.
44. I have a twisted sense of humor in the way that sometimes I think very innapropriate jokes and comments are funny.
45. Innapropriate comment #1 - "If I wasn't so stupid he wouldn't hit me."
46. I have been hit twice.
47. The first time, I had it coming.
48. I'm suprised I have not been hit more.
49. Sometimes I do not know when to shut up.
50. I am not very tall or strong, but when provoked, I think I'm fucken Wonder Woman.
51. I have a fear that someday, someone will prove to me that I'm NOT Wonder Woman and beat the ever-lovin out of me because I pushed too far.
52. I have a terribly dirty mouth. I cuss like a man.
53. I love calling people, 'bitch'.
54. I am not afraid of the word 'cunt'. Go ahead, say it- it's liberating. "CUUUNNNNNT!!!" If you are afraid, do it in the privacy of your car.
55. I think 'cunt' should be the new 'bitch' because 'bitch' has become 'ass'. Not even a bad word anymore.
56. Boys like me cause I say the word, "cunt". Direct quote, "Your sister is the coolest chick ever, she just said 'cunt'"
57. I am a shameless flirt and I love cute boys.
58. I don't care if people think I'm slutty. I'm 35 and it's ok to want to get laid every once in a while.
59. Shit, 100 is alot. I'M bored with myself.
60. My favorite blogs are PostSecret and D-Man.
61. I have a different list of favorites too- but those are Xrated.
62. I feel like many of the secrets in PostSecret are mine.
63. I am envious of women who truly aspire to be good wives.
64. I was not a great wife.
65. I try to be a good mother, but some days I want to lock myself in my room.
66. If I could afford it, I would have more kids but I not because I want a daughter.
67. I have a step daughter, and I'm content with that.
68. So far, being a single mom is harder than raising kids in an unhappy marriage.
69. My marriage was unhappy because we struggled with addiction.
70. Drug and alcohol addiction is the worst thing that ever happened to my life, and I wasn't even the one using.
71. Sometimes I wished that I had the problem, so that way I could just be irresponsible and blame whole segments of my life on vodka or crack.
72. I am too lazy and too cheap for a drug or alcohol problem.
73. I am afraid that my children will grow up and become addicts.
74. I am almost certain that at least one will, because that's the way it usually happens.
75. It will probably NOT be the one that I suspect it will be either.
76. I can talk about addiction, and sex until I am blue in the face.
77. The only drug I have ever tried is pot, and I didn't hate it at all.
78. I love movies. Romance, comedy, sometimes a good action film.
79. Pornography (18+) does not bother me at all.
80. I have let two people take naked pictures of me. The second one, I had totally forgotten about until he reminded me. He said he destroyed them. I have no idea where the first set of naked pictures are, but I was 16- so it's child porn now and I suspect someone will get arrested for admitting they have them.
81. I like writing erotica and I think I'm good at it.
82. I love big guys, and bald guys. A big bald guy is like candy to me.
83. I am afraid that my husband will kill himself.
84. There are many days when I totally understand why he wants to die.
85. It was hard to admit that I could not help him, and I had to walk away to save my own life.
86. Sometimes I miss him, and other times I am happy he is gone. He exhausts me.
87. I have a good sense of humor about how crazy my life has become.
88. I think the sexiest thing a man can have is a sense of humor.
89. I am secretly amused by corny jokes and innapropriate references to sex.
90. I am a true believer in, "it's always the quiet ones...."
91. I'm a cheap date and a cheaper drunk.
92. The best compliment I ever got was on a Christmas Wish List when I was 18. A guy said All he wanted for Christmas was me.
93. He had me that Christmas and he could probably have me this Christmas if he wanted me.
94. I usually hate the holidays, but this year I am going to try to simply celebrate having a new life.
95. Thanksgiving is my least hated holiday.
96. I have three piercings, the third one was a gift to myself for my 35th birthday. It was the most liberating thing I have ever done and I have pictures to prove it.
97. I'm looking back over this list and thinking that I am not very interesting at all.
98. I don't want to be alone, but I know that I can.
99. I was afraid of being alone, but I'm not anymore.
100. If you stayed through the end of this list, I appreciate it- and hope you leave this Attention Whore a comment.

My birthday...

So I'm 35. Thirty five.

Thirty five feels older than 34 did. I never felt like, "I'm getting old" before- not in any real sense. Birthdays would come and go and I'd still feel like I was still young. I don't feel so young anymore. I see people who I see as 'older'- and am a year or two older than they are.

But there are some things I have learned about myself that makes my age worth it I guess. I think I come equipped with some life wisdom. Just because my life is sometimes still a mess, it doesn't mean that I don't know a thing or two. So at least I am not a 'stupid' 35- contrary to popular belief. I think I still give off the persona that I am looking for answers. I'm not. I don't want the answers anymore. People rarely learn from the mistakes of others. And many people make the same mistakes. It's just the way life is.

My husband and I seem to be getting along pretty well these days. His distance makes all the difference in the world. Just seeing him evey few weeks, I find him funny and charming and even kinda cute. It's good for the boys to see us get along. It's also important for us too. I don't want to feel that I wasted these last 7 years. I think I heard Dr. Phil say once that if you split up and you can't even have a conversation, that you still have so much unfinished business together. We don't have any unfinished business. Just children, but that's not business, that's family. And I'd like to think that we will always be somewhat of a family.

For my birthday I went out and had some drinks with some friends from work. That was a fun evening, complete with me drunk and disrobing... don't ask. On Sunday I went out to dinner with my siblings who I also share a birthday weekend with and my brother Rick, who is home from Iraq. That was really the best thing that could have happened for my birthday. To have him home safe and back with the ones he loves- that is what matters. That's family.

Welcome home, Rick.

50,000 words.....

My dear and best friend is doing this thing for National Novel Writing Month where you crank out 50,000 words in 30 days. It doesn't have to be GOOD- or gramatically correct, but the idea, I guess is that once you put 50,000 words down, well- you've done SOMETHING that you may have not completed or even strived for. He mentioned it to me about 3 days ago. He sent me the web link 2 days ago and it's been milling in my inbox. Sitting and freaking me out, much like the dead bug in the kitchen. The must have come in and treated my house bugs, cause I keep finding these fuckers- on thier back- just in the middle of nowhere- struggling to flip over or something. So I spray them with bug cleaner and give them some time to die. Usually forgetting they are there and 30 minutes later, I go back and it scared the hell out of me that I have a dead bug in the middle of the floor. Oh right- THAT. These are the things having a husband was good for.

Anyway- 50K words. If I started TOMORROW- I'd have 22 days and that's 2300 words a day. My last essay was 1800. I could write 2300 words in a day. But every day for 22 days? Oh I don't know. It would feel good. It would feel fucking great really- to have something to focus on, somewhere to place my mental energy. I wish I had known about it sooner, but then I would have simply mulled over it and talked myself out of it for reasons other than the missing 8 days. Well I have until tomorrow to think about it.

What would I write about. Lately I've been writing a lot of personal stuff, stuff I don't share with those I know and love. But this is a fiction thing. It's not a contest really, other than being acknowledged as someone who finished it. It seems like about 15% of the people who sign up actually finish- so even if I didn't finish, it would still be something.

The postitive is that I was thinking about giving up sex for a month. Parter and solo. All of it. I was thinking that perhaps it would clear my head- help me focus more. Keep me away from men, and all the shit that screws with my head. Those of you who know me should probably stop laughing so people think you are working, or at least keep it down so you don't wake up the kids. Yes, I was thinking of giving up sex. Not just sex, but the things, and people that keep sex on my brain. Focus on me and school and the kids and taking care of my house and going on complete hiatus from men and the whole god forsaken scenario. But like choclate or sugary cereal, as soon as I can't have it- I crave it. It goes on sale and everyone is offering me some.

But I admit, I have been stuck. Feeling emotionally drained, apathetic and disconnected. From school, my kids, my job- everything. I thought I should channel some energy and perhaps I would feel better. Of course I am dozing off sitting here at the computer. My energy is channeling just fine and I bore MYSELF.... but if I DID decide to do this, then I could give up the crazy no-sex option. Really, it's a stupid idea and I'd cave.

Anyway- I wanted to finish a blog post- I have 4 of them saved as drafts, unfinished. I can't complete a blog post lately- 50,000 words in 22 days. I think it might be easier to give up the sex.

Some pics of me and the boys

We were having fun being silly with the camera!!!
HAVE A GREAT WEEKEND!!!!

I can only disappoint ONE person every day- and today is YOUR lucky day!!!

I have been emailing links to The Panda Cam all week. It's just so darn cute. I didn't think I gave a damn about the Panda's or at least why it was world news, but you know, I find myself spending a lot of time watching that baby and mama.

So I have been just fried lately. Feeling overwhelmed and apathetic and like I just can't keep up with my life, not cause I'm so busy and SO important, but just cause I don't have the mental energy to give everything enough attention, so I'm not giving ANYTHING enough attention. I have been absent from my friends, subpar in my work, barely dedicated to my education. I feel like all the balls are going to hit the floor soon. I need to give myself some breathing room- and allow myself the opportunity to do A FEW THINGS right, instead of doing EVERYTHING wrong. One day last week I told my boss, "You know- I just don't think I can disappoint anyone else today- so you are going to have to give me break."

I've decided to make some changes in how I manage my time- and I think it will help me feel less overwhelmed. It's hard to back off of my commitments- even if it's just a few of them. I feel like I am failing. Like I couldn't cut it- and that people are going to say, "well, good for you for knowing what's best" but then be THINKING "I KNEW she would break under all this pressure."

I guess it's my time to lose it. I've been asking for quite some time now, when is it going to be ok for me to fall apart, when is it MY turn for the emotional breakdown? Apparently, the time has come.

Bring on the booze,
and the hot 21 year olds....
Mama's havin a meltdown.....

Hands off.

This morning I was listening to Marianne Williamson on Oprah and Friends. I have read some of her books. She is very inspiring. And she was talking to Wayne Dyer , who I am not familiar with, but he is another spiritual guru of sorts. They talked about forgiveness and the situation with the school shooting in that Amish community. How the families of the victims embraced that family of the gunman and how that truly is a sense of wholeness when you can forgive such things. He spoke as a recovered addict, and having had worked with addicts as well. That always catches my attention because I have a lot of respect for those who can survive the ultimate hell that is addiction. To me, these people are fighters and have just as much strength and courage to fight as those who battle other diseases.

They spoke about being in dark places, and simply feeling that. Being IN that dark place and not grasping. Not fighting the situation, and just accepting it. Being there and not struggling to escape it. He spoke of one the core concepts in AA- which is Let Go and Let God. Before I had a higher power, I struggled with this- because my questions was "Let God do WHAT?"

He also said something that seems so simplistic, but I'm sure very true for those that live it. That the only problem we truly have is being disconnected from our higher power. (He said God) I thought about that on my drive to work- and asked myself the question I have asked time and time again.

Who is your higher power today, Julie?

Pastor Ed told me that your higher power is whatever you spend the most time thinking about. Which is a pretty scary thought, but really, whatever that is, is what drives you. What motivates you and what dictates a lot of what you do. Regardless how good or bad it is, it is what it is. And I have learned that to Let Go and Let God means, let go of whatever it is that I can't handle, and let my higher power do it for me. Now if I am going to do that- I better have a higher power that is not self destructive. I better not put all my eggs into a basket with a hole in the bottom.

On to my point....
This evening I found myself wrapped up and feeling like I was trapped. I had information, and with this information I created fear that I was going to be faced with a situation that I would not handle the way I should handle it, assuming that I was called to handle it.

So stressed out and panicked, I made a phone call to a trusted friend... who listened and then said, "I am trying to figure out exactly HOW this is your problem?" Laugh laugh laugh... but she was right.

I later called my Al-Anon friend- and as I was telling her the story, in a little more detail cause that's what we girls d0- it came clear to me that I had information that I LOOKED FOR. Nobody offered it to me. I was afraid of receiving a phone call to deal with a situation that I was not even included in- and worrying about poorly handling a decision I was not even being called on to make.

Christine calls this borrowing trouble. I think mine is on lease with an option to buy. Either that or it's purchased with a no return policy. Either way. I realize that this situation is not my problem. The information I have, does nothing. It does not change anything for me. If I had it or not, the way I should behave does not change. And really- nobody has asked me to do anything. What the hell am I getting so worked up about???

So I have to let it go. The information, the problem, the phone call, the dilemma. Let it go. It's not on my plate. It's not my problem, and if it becomes my problem it's because I accept it to take on. I have choices today and after much fret and debate I am choosing to let it go. I will deal with a decision when one is needed from me, until then. Hands off.

That's the beauty of detachment. It allows me to do nothing, if I am not required to do anything. It gives me the permission to keep my head where my feet are and not worry about what is going on over there. It tells me that I SHOULD mind my own business and let other people deal with thier own lives and thier own consequences. I know that I am very grateful when people give me the dignity to live my own life, not matter how much they think I am screwing things up. I am not abandoning anyone, I am allowing someone else the freedom to make mistakes.... wow- I could talk this out until I break out in fucking song.....

But you know what I mean....

This is the freedom from the bondage of self.

Man, I love this Program.

Comfort in chaos...

Yesterday I asked why I was so unhappy, and not too long after, I figured it out.

My husband came over last night to spend some time with the boys. He had been at his sisters over the weekend and came by last night so I could study and he was going to give the boys dinner, a bath and get them in bed. It was unclear if he was going to sleep in thier room or if he was going to go back to his sisters but it made no difference to me.

The boys however, decided to morph into demon spawns and were just impossible all day. In retrospect I should have taken a break from studying mid day and taken them to the park or something to blow off steam- but you know, mom's got a midterm this week... Anyway, by the time husband showed up- I was on my last nerve and the boys were also frustrated and hard to deal with. In the end, he was frustrated with them as well. He and I were yelling at each other. The kids were angry about being put to bed.

And I felt...

strangely...

settled.

I went to bed before I even asked if he was staying overnight with the boys- and I slept, SOUNDLY, for the first time since he left. And I didn't wake up once until the alarm went off this morning.

For so many years I have been living with so much chaos and hostility that I am used to it. I know how to live in this battle zone. I can hear the voices of my friends telling me what I already know.... unhealthy. destructive. codependent. sick sick sick.

I know.

But this is why I am unhappy, because I am out of my comfort zone. It's not up to anyone to define my comfort zone. This is what I know. Disappointment, turmoil, hostility and anger is what I am used to. Eventually I will find comfort in the things that are supposed to comfort me, but until then- I have no choice but to keep following the idea that things will get better in time. Because I can't slip backwards to that life of chaos- because it's the life I am trying to escape and I can't forget that.

Again, doing the right thing, rarely feels as good as it should.

Step One....

It went to a meeting yesterday- the first in a long time. I said that I would, as soon as Michael moved out. I really needed it. The comfort I received walking in the room. The understanding and love in my Saturday group is better than any other meeting I've ever been to. I closed my eyes and listened to the opening readings- letting the words stick to my heart and willing them to perfuse into my blood stream.

1. We admitted we were powerless over alcohol, that our lives had become unmanageable.

I have admitted my powerlessness over alcohol. And over most things. I have control issues, of course, but I realize that I cannot control other people. I cannot fight someone elses demons and I cannot force anyone to think, act or feel a certain way.

Is my life unmanageable? In some ways, not so much. What other people have seen as crazy and unheard of in my life- was simply my way of coping. I am sure that I could have thrown my husband out long ago- not given him time and not allowed him to take advantage of me for a few more months. But I didn't do it for him as much as I did it for me. Today, I can live with my decision. A few months ago, I don't think I could have. Oddly, there IS a method to my madness- and I think for me, it's all about the BIG PICTURE. Making myself happy right now sounds great, and usually feels great- but I think it takes greater sacrifice to be happy in the long run. So I can suffer a little in the short term, if I truly believe there will be less emotional consequences in the long term.

But back to my original question. Is my life unmanageable? It must be, because now that I have got what I wanted, I have no idea what I want to do with the rest of me. Nothing FEELS important to me right now. I seem to care less and less about the goals that I had. Going to school has lost it's charm. For all I try to do to kick start my motivation, it's just not there. I don't care. Some days I just want to quit- and why? So I can get more sleep. So I have LESS to do. Because I just don't care right now.

Of course, I won't quit. Of course I will keep moving forward and just finish what I started. I'm so close. Next semester I will be a senior in college. I will be applying for graduate school. I will have my masters degree before my 40th birthday. 6 months ago that was the biggest thing I could imagine for myself. Today I am just wondering if it will be worth the extra $20K it is going to cost me.

I have an overwhelming urge to bail. To get in my car and drive and drive until I end up in a new life. I'm restless and I'm exhausted. I know that I am not pleasant to be around. Is this depression? Anxiety? A mid life crisis? I don't know. I feel that I am in a constant state of PMS and even if people want to be around me, I am convinced that they don't.

Going back and forth with what I think I'm feeling- I can't pinpoint exactly what. It's like dropping a bag of marbles on the floor- they scatter and roll in every direction. My life has a lot of promise right now. And yet, it is still unmanageable because I have no appreciation for it.

I am on the verge of everything good.

Why am I so unhappy?

Don't you remember the day, that you went away and left me?

Wasted Days and Wasted Nights
I have left, for you, behind.
Cause you don't belong to me.
Your heart belongs
to someone else.

Why should I keep loving you,
When I know that you're not true?
And why should I call your name
When you're to blame
For making me blue....

====

Freddy Fender died. My dad loved him. He used to sing this song, and "I'll be there before the next teardrop falls."- which still makes me cry whenever I hear it because I think it was his favorite.

600 calories of dinosaur shaped snacks

I decided to get involved at school. I was sitting in the Health Care Administration Student Forum, with the other people in my academic program. I have had one class with almost everyone in that room. These are my academic peers- and I don't even know most of thier names. I am the last one in to class, and usually out the door without talking to anyone.

I was hoping to go to college, get good grades, get my degree and get out. Keep my head down and my mouth shut, don't get involved. I am too old to benefit from the college experience. And while I believe that it many ways that is true- I realized that I am denying myself good opportunity by not getting involved. So perhaps I will join the Student Forum next week. Maybe volunteer for some of the charity stuff that they are doing. I joined the Leadership Academy tonight, which seems to be a series of 'training/enrichment" seminars that will help you in your career. I signed up for 4 of the 8 seminars I need to take to complete the whole thing. It will look good on my Graduate School application and the seminars are things like "Creating Vision" and "Multiculturalism" and stuff like that so I'm sure I will learn. Also I get to wear some fancy thing at Graduation. And I like fancy things.

So I am trying to be positive about it and not change my mind. I feel a wreck tonight however. I just ate a box of fruit snacks. It's the only thing sweet in the house. A whole box. That's like 60 fruit snacks. That's way too many fruit snacks!! And for all I was hoping it would do to me, with my "Eat til it stops hurting" philosophy- it really only made me feel kinda sick.

Conversation with fear.

I was reading my daily OM this morning and it talked about Fear and that fear is there for a reason, it tells us that we are on the edge of our comfort level. And then it says something about conversing with fear for a greater understanding of the changes. Talk to the fear. I wonder what my fear looks like? I see her as a child. Me as a child. How would that conversation go?

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Hello Fear. We are going to take a walk.
Where are we going?
Someplace new.
Do we have to go?
Yes.
Why?
Because we can't stay here any longer. It's not safe here.
How do you know it's safe there where we are going?
I don't.
Well then why do we have to go?
Because I know that it's not safe here.
I can't.
We have to.
I don't want to.
You have to trust me.
Trust YOU? Why should we trust you? All of your best efforts have gotten us here. To this place that is not safe. Why should we trust you??
Because I am the lesser of the two evils.
What if we get lonely?
We probably will.
What if we need help?
We probably will.
What if we get our heart broken?
We might.
So give me a better reason why we have to go there?

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=


She makes a compelling argument. My "inner child" has always been kind of a whiny little bitch.

Think of a man, then remove all reason and accountablity.

Sometime I just can't help how I feel. No matter how much logic I apply to the situation, I can't help but just feel my feelings. Today is kind of like a wave and I can't seem to swim, or walk towards shore.

My husband, having been in the hopspital all last week and not packed, ready to move out, as discussed, agreed and promised- came home from on Saturday, went straight to bed and didn't get up again until this morning. His parents showed up to pick him up and he threw a few boxes of clothes together and grabbed his medications. Leaving everything else. He said good bye to the boys and to me he said, "See ya"- without even looking at me. I know I can't exactly be his best friend or anything- I mean, when I was bringing him clothes to the hospital, buying his cigarettes, and giving him money- well aint she sweet... but now, I guess that's over and I should not expect any niceties.

His mother barely spoke to me and his father did not even say hello. I don't know if they are angry at me, or just at the situation. I gues they have to take sides. Either way- it's always great to feel like a wretched bitch- and he played his card perfectly by sinking into his depression just in time. I can set my watch by it. So now he looks like the sick victim, and I look like a bitch. It was hard to see him say good bye to the boys- Gabe seemed to know that something was happening. He cried as soon as he left. I've been crying all day. I'm not even sure why.

I think I will feel a little better tomorrow, or maybe the day after that....

Today I feel kind of lousy. Guilty-lousy. Angry-lousy. I think after all the time we've spent together. All the chances I gave him, all the leeway, after everything that son of a bitch put me through- I think he should have had the decency to leave with some dignity. He has no right to carry on that way, like he is being thrown out onto the streets. Don't limp away, groaning with every step (apparently he was in some sort of pain) as if I had just finished beating him with a shovel. Don't be such a goddamn pussy about it. You screwed this up. You destroyed this family, this marriage and this woman so don't walk outa here like you were the victim, cause I DON'T FEEL SORRY FOR YOU!!!!! Now take off your dress, strap on a pair and BE A FUCKING MAN FOR A CHANGE!!!

Hm, I feel a little better already.....