30 days of letters

I’ve now seen this on both Britni’s blog and They Belong to Us, and Essinem and I’ve chosen to participate in honor of a new month and such. Basically, the gist is that you write a letter a day for 30 days. It’s part self-awareness/reflection, part writing prompt, part free therapy. This might be good for me to have something to write about and also work out some of those there... feelings....

I'm gonna do my best.... Come back and check!!

Day 1 — Your Best Friend

Day 2 — Your Crush/ Partner(s)

Day 3 — Your parents

Day 4 — Your sibling (or closest relative)

Day 5 — Your dreams

Day 6 — A stranger

Day 7 — Your Ex-partner/love/crush

Day 8 — Your favorite internet friend

Day 9 — Someone you wish you could meet

Day 10 — Someone you don’t talk to as much as you’d like to

Day 11 — A Deceased person you wish you could talk to

Day 12 — The person you hate most/caused you a lot of pain

Day 13 — Someone you wish could forgive you

Day 14 — Someone you’ve drifted away from

Day 15 — The person you miss the most

Day 16 — Someone that’s not in your state/country

Day 17 — Someone from your childhood

Day 18 — The person that you wish you could be

Day 19 — Someone that pesters your mind—good or bad

Day 20 — The one that broke your heart the hardest

Day 21 — Someone you judged by their first impression

Day 22 — Someone you want to give a second chance to

Day 23 — The last person you kissed

Day 24 — The person that gave you your favorite memory

Day 25 — The person you know that is going through the worst of times

Day 26 — The last person you made a pinky promise to

Day 27 — The friendliest person you knew for only one day

Day 28 — Someone that changed your life

Day 29 — The person that you want tell everything to, but too afraid to

Day 30 — Your reflection in the mirror

Not afraid... maybe

I'm afraid of heights. Deathly afraid.

I'm thinking of taking Rock Climbing lessons.

Anyone wanna join me??

If you scream into cyberspace and nobody is logged on, does it make a sound?

The problem with being a blogger/ twitterer/ attention whore is that everything is public. The internet is a perfect platform for me to BE an attention whore without having to annoy the people around me. People can CHOSE to tune in to my blog or my twitter stream and watch the magic (ie: the trainwreck). They can do it with interest, disdain or pure voyeristic delight.

I say that it's a problem though, because I feel compelled to do most things in public. Changes in my life, in my relationships, issues with my kids, my family- it's all out there. There are few things I consider off limits. (usually regarding negativity towards people I love but maybe I'm annoyed with at the moment) However when it comes to ME and my ongoings- there are some who know all I divulge, and that is usually a LOT.

Besides all the drama with my husband, my current relationship is going through a moment of upheaval. It's exhausting and sad. So what do I do? I blog about it. I blog about the break up- the stress, the emotions. I twitter my sad state of being and am comforted by the outpour of friendship and support from my 'friends'.

I've been warned about living my life on line. Having relationships in public. It makes it harder when things go wrong- but in some ways it makes me more aware of how I behave. I refuse to slam my loved ones but I also refuse to stay quiet and hurting. Grieving outloud is how I do it. I don't have a local group of girlfriends who meet for lunch and or congregate on my bed for a heartfelt chat over wine. This is NOT Sex and the City.

More like Sex and Social Media.

So I grieve outloud. I reach out for my friends who return my call with virtual hugs, text messages, IM's, DM's and naked pictures (ok, I haven't gotten any naked pictures YET...). I put my heart out there to my world and I'm ever grateful that people are listening.

If I'm not going to break down on line, why break down at all??

Blow me, bitch.

"You're a pain in my ass. Stop being that!"

Ahh thank you Mel. Only rage can deliver such a clear message.

mental days

I'm taking a few days off of work. My original plan was to spend it with 'the boyfriend' who is in town but that hasn't worked out as I'd hoped. However I see that I do need a few days of peace and quiet to get my head together and get caught up on a few things that have slipped thru the cracks.

My Homework: I am currently failing my Operations Class? Why- cause I just can't get my damn homework done and/or turned in on time? Why? Cause I really just feel overwhelmed and depressed.

My Apartment: I was on a good run in starting to clean it- but I stopped doing the daily maintenance and hid in my room for several nights. Why? Cause I really just feel overwhelmed and depressed.

My Job: Ok, well it doesn't make sense that I would take time off if I need to get back on track at work, however- if I don't just take a few days to unwind, by myself without the kids screaming in my ears, my husband on the phone and the other relationship issues I'm having- well I think I'm just gonna do shitty work. I really DO care about my job more than that.

My life has gotten away from me again. Somewhere, I lost my basket. I lost sight of what is important to me and fell into the scary trap that says, "I'm not good for anyone or anything so maybe I'll just drink and take these pills and then mope for several days on end." My kids are seeing me fall apart. Alex doesn't even want to BE HERE right now. No- this is not good and I just have to get myself together. Put on my big girl panties and pull it together.

How? I have no idea.

I have a hard enough time getting out of bed in the morning, and a harder time getting out of the house. Yesterday I called my girlfriend, just sobbing, crying. Mostly because of the boyfriend, but somewhat because I just felt that I couldn't move. My chest felt like it was about to explode and I wanted to scream and kick and cry. I was terrified and I just couldn't make a step. I expected a nervous breakdown to be something really dramatic, like going to bed for days and days until someone shows up and throws you in a shower, clothes on. No- this breakdown is like the end of a slow speed police chase. I knew the cops were after me, but I figured since I was already going, I may as well go until the engine runs out.

My engine has officially run out. I give up.

My life is unmanageable because I simply don't know what to do with myself. My feelings made no sense, I know they are not true. I am NOT stupid, incapable, or unworthy. I am NOT unstable, unlovable OR unfuckable.

I am not disposable.

However, I feel that I am all those things- and these are feelings that seem to burrow deep under the surface of my skin and like a thin splinter, it's just not gonna come out all that easily. I can't stop myself from falling apart, it's already happening and it simply needs to happen. However, I have to set parameters that are within normal limits for my kids to feel secure. Everytime Gabriel sees me cry, he has a set back. The circle is vicious and nobody is gonna stop it if I don't.

So what's next? Well I'll tell you- I'm not sure. It looks a little like soothing my soul with comfort food. Talking out some issues with the boyfriend in hopes for some relationship aftercare. and who knows, maybe some laundry.

cause I'm a cowboy....

I went out for drinks and dinner with a friend of mine. This guy is an old friend from HS that I kissed at graduation but over the years we connected on MySpace, then again on FB, and at the HS reunion. Great guy. Hot guy.

We just drank and at and laughed and threw out all sort of sexual innuendo. It was fun. I needed it. Depression is hitting me hard. The end of my marriage has me feeling a bit more out of sorts than I was expecting- and my current relationship is hitting some uncharted waters. So life feels a bit heavy and my arms are pretty tired lately.

The best part of the night was when my friend decided to get up and sing Karaoke. It was a pretty dead night and the Karaoke DJ was doing his best to try to 'pump up the crowd'. I've been to this restaurant on Karaoke night before. Years before with my SIL and it was a really fun place. The DJ now is kind of 'wedding singer' cheesy- I miss the days when the sexy girl with the Russian name sang for us.

So my friend gets up there to sing some Bon Jovi and I gotta tell ya, he's singing like a rock star- until the chorus comes up. And he goes into it- with gusto and conviction. but wait, whats that... I see it- just to the right. The DJ- he's stepping up- he's raising the mic... oh nooo... don't do it...

"waaaaanted...."

he did it.

OMG- he's standing in as Richie Sambora!!! He's singing backup Karaoke!! I almost pee'd. Partially because of the hilarity, but because the look on my friends face. It was as if someone came up and pinched his ass as they walked by. It was a BonJovi WIN.

So DJ Sambora continued the sing backup with my friend while I eyeballed him like a slutty groupy. It ruled.

Great night.

a thousand peices

I got an email tonight from one of my husbands old flames. I knew some of the story about them- his version which I'm pretty sure is skewed beyond recognition of the truth. Without giving too much away- there were a few things said that absolutely shook me to my very core...

He's the main reason I left the state...

...loving him was going to kill me...

...disbelief that he did this, again and this time it is so much worse...

...care about someone and have it just eat at you till it rots you to the core...

Part of me just wants to scream. Why? Why tell me this? Why now? Hello wound, have some salt!! But I know this person meant no malice. None at all.

So here I am. Overwrought with guilt over the decision I made to put him out. Thinking back on 10, 11, 13 years of this- for what? It was all a lie. I thought it was when I got pregnant with my youngest that really sent him over the edge. He was a drinker before- and a bad one- but he was getting better. Define "better" -I know. But when you are on the edge, better is better. Drunk 2 nights a week is better than 3 and much better than 7- right? So yes it was better for about 9 months. When I got pregnant with Danny- he sunk. I remember him sitting down in the middle of the living room like his legs had been taken out from under him when I told him I was pregnant. Things were never the same, and I carried with me a torch of guilt about that. I got pregnant and it pushed him over the edge. It only got worse, and while there were moments of 'less bad' it never got 'good'- or even 'better'. Moments of clarity, patience and better than average parenting skills of a sometimes functional addict still don't make it better.

I took on so much guilt. When he went of 'the deep end' before Danny was born, I even considered adoption for him. Thinking I could not take care of a new baby on my own- and well, I was quite suicidal anyway. I have lived with a lot of guilt for 'pushing more on him than he could handle'. I wanted what I wanted- I refused an abortion even though I considered it.

I have spent the last 10 plus years trying to figure out how I could do it all. How I could make it better. One of the first things I learned in Al-Anon was that there was no amount of caring, enabling, or screaming I could do to make him get better. I couldn't even make him WANT to get better. There was no amount of love I could give him to make him better. I knew this.

Didn't I?

The truth is- I didn't. I said I did. I knew it- but yet I thought that if I helped this one last time. If I was indifferent. If I was loving. If we had dates. If we had a good holiday. If we had more money. If I gave him what he wanted. If if if. I thought I could love him enough. I thought I could help him and that my love and our family, and the children were enough to make him WANT to take the help. It was enough to make him WANT to get better. All he really needed was the DESIRE to get better. The desire strong enough to try. He never wanted it, he never tried.

I have no idea if he is trying now. I fear that he isn't.

Now, I have this letter. This letter could not have come at a worse or a better time really. This letter tells me that my life was a lie. That my marriage was dishonest from the beginning. That his drinking problem did not PROGRESS- it was ALWAYS bad. He just hid it- and made it look like it was 'getting bad'. Looking back, what I see as 'the start' of it- was just when I started paying attention. The spiral was a good excuse to blame me for it all. I never stood a chance.

Never. He was long gone before I showed up.

What a spectacular lie. What an amazing waste of 13 years of my life. I have been fighting a losing battle. I have told so many lies. So many secrets. I have held on to so much shame. So much resentment. So much self-doubt, guilt, blame.

I thought he was my soul mate. I thought he was the other half of my heart. I was wrong. I was so wrong, because how can you love someone who isn't real? You can't truly love someone who you don't even know. I realize now, that while I knew things about him- I never knew him. This saddens me- because well, he knows me. Of course he does, how else would he have manipulated me for so long?

I am very much like the sender of this letter only decades later. Every day I think about leaving the state. Moving far away from him. I think about hiding. I think about dying. I think that I have to escape because I find myself in this trap. It's MY addiction- and while I'm much better at staying away from it, well... for example, alcoholics are told to "walk in dry places." Anywhere that he isn't- is my 'dry place', and I am not sure that this city, county, state or this side of the coast is big enough for the two of us. If I leave where he can't get to me- I'll be free. It may be the only way.

As I come to the end of this post, I must say that this changes nothing. My decision to leave has been sealed. I have moved on. There is no hope for this relationship, but I have to admit that it breaks my heart into a thousand pieces to know that it never stood a chance.

the right thing

I don't know what I want to do with this blog anymore. I don't want to blog about my husband, soon to be ex husband because I think it bores the fuck out of people. However, since I'm still here...

Last week or so, I decided it was simply time. It was over and done and the last straw had been... um... 'strawed'. I gave him a few days to get his stuff together and get out. I was so angry - mostly because I didn't want it to end THIS way.

I don't know if it's been a week or two weeks since then. Maybe two weeks. Anyway- so fast forward to last Friday and I offered to drive him to rehab. The day before, he went to a facility and DURING the intake process his blood sugar dropped to dangerous levels, they had to call 911 and he was sent to the ER, and then was told he could not go to that rehab. It was a state run facility and while they may take patients with health problems, they needed someone a bit more stable. This facility was a pain in the ass though, from the beginning. I decided to just use my insurance and find him a facility that had a few more resources. I allowed him to stay one night and on Friday he found a new place that took our insurance. Ok fine. So I took the morning off and drove him around lunch time, about 60 miles to Riverside to a nice looking place that was acceptable far enough away.

So I'm waiting in the kitchen area when he comes out- and he's white and sweating and headed for the vending machine. His blood sugar is dropping... again. Ok, now my husband doesn't have LOW blood sugar problems, he has HIGH blood sugar problems. The only time his blood sugar ever gets low is when he takes too much insulin... so yeah. great. He ate a BUNCH of candy, which I knew would be a problem later. Then went back into the office. More waiting.

Then I get called into the office.

Your husbands blood sugar is very low. We had to call 911.
again.

Great.

So the rehab facility tells me that they referred him to a different detox facility that CAN help him with his blood sugar but he needs to be stable before they take him in. So the ER needed to stablize him and then he could go into that other place. So off to the ER where I explained to the doctor what the situation was. He hadn't explained to the doctor what the situation was. This didn't shock me, which was why I insisted on going back there. When the doctor asked him, "so you need a letter clearing you for detox?" He agreed and played along, but I know now that he was doing his best to either get a last dose of meds, or had it in him to use whatever means possible to screw this up.

7 hours later and his blood sugar had spiked up (thanks to all the candybars)- and then it finally came back down and the doctor said he would clear him and we could be on our way. His response to that was instant anger. He got up and pulled out his IV's etc. He walked off the unit and then came back when the nurse followed him. He was in a rage and wouldn't even wait until we GOT the discharge paperwork to leave. The doctor was confused and when Mike walked off the unit, I explained to him and the nurse what I suspected was going on. Now he HAS to go to rehab. His efforts to sabotage failed, and now he's pissed.

The nurse had me go out front and she agreed to come out with the discharge paperwork. Security also followed, making sure that I would be ok. He offered to drive us to the rehab center. Can you imagine? The hospital security, btw, was the Moreno Valley Police Department. So yeah, that would have been all kinds of awesome- but no, I'm ok.

So it was 11PM now, and we drove to the facility. and waited and waited and waited until he was taken in. We barely spoke until it was time to leave.

At 12:45AM, I finally went home leaving him behind.

Those were the details of the day. The emotional nightmare can barely be touched. It was a bad day. I had nothing but guilt because I was forcing him to do this. I had no idea if he wanted to get sober, he said he did- but he had no other choice at this point. I was putting him out- I was leaving him homeless. This was his only hope, and I was helping him get there- and his negativity about it made me want to put his bags on the side of the freeway and him with them. Even in these last moments together I felt so angry that here I was trying to help him and he was still resisting. Even in the end, he would never accept what I was trying to do. He would never truly appreciate it.

I know I made the right choice... I know because it felt like hell and doing the right thing never feels as good as it ought to.

beyond the tigers

Grant me the serenity

to accept the things I cannot change

the courage to change the things I can

and the wisdom to know the difference

I'm reminded of this today.

I stopped praying when Christine died. I stopped talking and listening to the God I learned to believe in, and I have not yet gone back. I know it's a large source of what unsettles me on a daily basis. I know it's not what she would have wanted. I'm approaching the one year anniversary of her death and in some ways all I want to do is pray.

The serenity prayer has always brought me back to center in the past. It has always helped get my mindset out of that cluttered space where my life is not manageable. I can apply the serenity prayer to so many situations in my life- in some ways it almost feels like a "get out of jail free" card, if I want to play it like that.

Often time we are weighed down by mistakes we've made. Balls we've dropped and people we've hurt. This morning Mike drove me to work and one of his old favorite songs came on the radio. I listened to him, as I've done a thousand times, sing along to the words. I found myself thinking, "he still knows the words to this song." I guess I just assume that he has forgotten, as he has forgotten so many other 'favorite things'. I noticed he wasn't singing aloud, but more whispering as I could only hear the "s" sounds of the lyrics. His life has become such that I suspect that he doesn't even bother learning the words to songs anymore. He finds joy in nothing. He is weighed down, every day, by his mistakes. He lets them define him. He lets them hold him back.

I am just as guilty. I'm approaching 11 years of marriage to a man that I failed to help, in all of my attempts to save him. I tried to help a drowning man by giving him a glass of water. From the first Al-Anon meeting I stepped into, 11 years ago- I refused to admit that I could not alter his course. I refused to give up the hope that I could help him, save him, rescue him. I could not change this situation. I did not have the courage to walk away. I know that now. Today I reach for my serenity by knowing that I can't change where we are now, even as I take responsibility for my part in it. I have to forgive myself for that mistake. I carry around 11 years of baggage. In it contains bottles that I threw away so we didn't have to talk about it. Money that I pretended not to be missing. Lies that I pretend I didn't tell. Cover up stories to all of my friends and family. I carry it all with me, and it's heavy.

I can't change it. I can't change the 11 years of mistakes I made. I can't alter his course. I can't save his life. Accept the things I cannot change. I can't change this. It's done. I need to wrap it in a blanket, put it in a boat and let it go. I'm not perfect. I tried, I swear I tried. I failed at a task I could never succeed at. My marriage was my Everest, and it's not a mountain I want to die on.

It takes courage to move on from my mistakes. People tell me how strong and brave I am, but I always remind them not to confuse bravery with the lack of courage to walk away from it. Am I facing the tigers, or just too afraid to turn and run out of fear they will get me in the back? The brave ones are the ones who get out alive. Not the ones who stand and wait to be eaten. I still struggle knowing the difference between what I cannot change, and having the courage to change what I can.

But Serenity, it calls to me like a sweet song. I know it's out there.

cluttered

June 11, 2010
No Hard Edges
Creating Space In The Body

When our minds are cluttered with too many thoughts and information, our bodies respond by trying to take action.

Our minds and bodies are interconnected, and the condition of one affects the condition of the other. This is why meditation is such a powerful tool for healing the body, as powerful as physical therapies. When our minds are cluttered with thoughts, information, and plans, our bodies respond by trying to take action. When the body has a clear directive from the mind, it knows what to do, but a cluttered, unfocused mind creates a confused, tense body. Our muscles tighten up, our breath shortens, and we find ourselves feeling constricted without necessarily knowing why.

When we sit down to meditate, we let our bodies know that it is okay to be still and rest. This is a clear directive from the mind, and the body knows exactly how to respond. Thus, at the very beginning, we have created a sense of clarity for the body and the mind. As we move deeper into meditation, the state of our mind reveals itself, and we have the opportunity to consciously decide to settle it. A meditation teacher pointed out that if you put a cow in a small pen, she acts up and pushes against the boundaries, whereas if you provide her with a large, open space, she will peacefully graze in one spot. In the same way, our thoughts settle down peacefully if we provide them with enough space, and our bodies follow suit.

When we settle down to examine and experience our consciousness, we discover that there are no hard, definable edges. It is a vast, open space in which our thoughts can come and go without making waves, as long as we let them by neither attaching to them nor repressing them. As we see our thoughts come and go, we begin to breathe deeper and more easily, finding that our body is more open to the breath as it relaxes along with the mind. In this way, the space we recognize through meditation creates space in our bodies, allowing for a feeling of lightness and rightness with the world.

----

I don't meditate - but I know that I often think of my life in hard edges, while I operate in curves. Which is why I'm always cutting myself on the angles. -j

know your audience

I don't futz very often. I tend to not fixate on things that don't matter as long as the end result is the same. Mike likes to change the furniture around. What about this? What if I put this there? Maybe I should move that here, what do you think Julie? Is that ok? Is that fine, here- there, and this will go here and we can move that......

ok really, dude? I couldn't fucking care less. I want two things. I want the couch in a place where I can sit down and watch TV. Other than that, I don't care if you put a damn jungle gym in here as long as I can see the television from the couch.

And when I say I don't care, I don't mean I DON'T care. I mean, do whatever you want as long as it's not what I DON'T want.

Know who you're married to.

Act accordingly.

Good luck to the next guy. ;)

Mike is going to the store.

He asks: Can you make some coffee while I'm gone?

I say: Sure. (not really getting up off the couch)

He says: Julie, every time I ask you that, when I come home- you have never made the coffee and I have to make it

I say: Then WHY do you ask me??? Haven't you learned yet? We've been married 10 years!!

what's wrong when nothings wrong

My recommitment to my diet still hasn't stuck. I do ok during the day, but at night I just blow it out of the water. I need planning. I need to track my eating. I need focus. Not just with my diet, but with school too.

I find that hard to come by right now. Maybe it's the change in the weather, or the fact that school is almost out and I, like the kids, want to relax by jumping in the pool and laying in the sun. I spent a week off of my meds, and putting them back into my system is also sort of a mental transition too.

I often try to wean myself off my meds. Sometimes for a week, sometimes for a month. With my blood pressure problems, I am a little more sensitive about it. The last thing I need is for my stress and anxiety to skyrocket my blood pressure. I don't want to have a stroke because I didn't want to cheer up.

Sometimes depression confuses me. When I don't have anything to BE depressed about, it's strange to have those days when I feel like I can't get out of bed. Everything feels wrong when I know that nothing is wrong. The things that don't bother me, bother me. The things that are nothing, become something even if I know they are nothing. All of this triggers anxiety. This feeling of hopelessness, like everything feels out of control. I feel like the world is spinning and I feel trapped, even when I am standing perfectly still and there's nobody around. It doesn't make any sense, and it stresses me out when I try to force it to.

So when there's no answers- no reason- no fault. Nothing but this feeling I can't shake- all I want to do is hide from it.

Yes, the pills help. It's not about numbing me from what IS wrong. They help me from feeling that there is something wrong when nothings wrong. Maybe that doesn't make sense- but if it did, maybe you'd need antidepressants too.

New beginnings- I hope.

I have become a really crappy blogger. I can't even try to make excuses. I just committed a whole $10 to renewing this domain, so I guess I had better do something with it huh? I could have spent that $10 you know... lunch.

My weight loss efforts are going slow. Mostly because my EFFORTS are slow. I try- but you know, not as hard as I could. In 9 weeks, I've lost about 5.5 pounds which is great until I compare it to the girls who have lost like 17 pounds. I know what the difference is though- they are more committed. I'm doing it so-so. So I keep telling myself I'm going to recommit myself, starting today.

Ok- well today was but- but you know TODAY.

what? oh well that was unexpected. but TODAY- really today.

When the fuck IS today anyway?

This morning Mike and I had an interesting conversation about the new guy in my life. The conversation was not exactly interesting, but it is always interesting to me when I hear my husband say the name of my boyfriend. (It's also weird for me use those words in the same sentence.) I admit that it's comforting that he is not freaking out- because well, I know I would. In some ways, it comforts me to know that he does love me enough to want me to be happy. We really are just living in the same house now. Not in a seething uncomfortable way- but in a 'Hey Julie, do you think I'm still attractive enough to get a younger girl?' kind of way. Oddly, I asked him the same question.

It's nice to know that we haven't ripped each other to such shreds so that there is no evidence of civility.

As failed marriages go- maybe the fact that we can still be civil makes this a lesser degree of losing. Nobody wins.

So hopefully since I plan to sort of live 'outloud', you will all join me.

I'm Julie- I'm getting divorced. I have a new guy. A new girl (more on that later). Three sons, a daughter, a cat and a mini-van.

I am the perfect picture of the kinky neighbor next door. Can I borrow a cup of sugar?

why not?

We always hurt the ones you love.

Why is that?

Why can't we simply LOVE the ones we love and try really really hard to NOT make them feel alone or abandoned or worthless?

Mom- I thought college only took 4 years?

I found out yesterday that through some very cool changes in my Masters program, I will be graduating in January, A few months before schedule. This is very happy news. I was getting ready to just quit. Really. I'm exhausted with school. Ive been in college with no longer than an 8 week break since 1995.

"Mom- I thought college only took 4 years?"

No comment, made to the child born in 1994.

So in discussing this with C, (in a minute) I said, "Yeah really need to start looking for a new job."

His response was, "Well I was more thinking along the lines of- wow now you're going to have to pay all your loans back."

It's a double edge. Being done with school means I will no longer have that flow of extra income known as Student Loans. I can defer for 6 months after graduation, but then I have to have a job actually MAKING enough to cover the money I used in loans, and make a sizeable monthly payment. It's been worth it. Without it I simply would not have survived all these years. I have graduate level education before age 40. Seriously something that, when I was 23- I NEVER EVER would have dreamed of.

So my next step is obvious. Get a better job, make more money.

This year is all about transition and change. It's all about doing things differently. There's a lot about me that the readers of only this blog and not the others don't know (especially because I have truly sucked as a blogger this year). However, things are different in my life and with me finally finishing school and getting divorced- who knows what kind of changes are in store for me?

You can't see the GOOD half- HNT

It's been a while so I figured I'd do it.

You can't see the nekkid half, you will have to trust me.

I wouldn't lie to you.

Happy Half Nekkid Thursday!

I'm sorry for whatever it was I am not sure I did....

I need to drink more water. I mean- I keep buying bottled water- and not drinking it. I carry around a full water bottle at all times, and don't open it. Can I lose weight without drinking water?? I don't think so. Am I sabotaging my own efforts?

Today is not a great day, this weekend has not been great. I feel like there's just destruction all around me and that somehow I'm to blame for everything that is wrong with everyone around me. You know how friends will say something like, "Oh my GOD I hate when people ?? Well I immediately race my mind to think if I have done and if I am the 'people' they are complaining about. I rarely am.

Lately, I am just ready to apologize for it. Whatever it is, I'm sure I did it.

This weekend I told Mike the news he really didn't want confirmed, and I know that he knew. He isn't stupid. I have filed for divorce, I really think it's ok for me to move on.

That's the think about life. It fucking goes on.

If I could find a way to stop it, I would have by now.

Sorry for the emo post. At least it's a post, right?

the uphill climb

I was going through my old Yahoo emails and found some old "anonymous" comments from my friend Christine on my old blog. I moved from that blog to this new one because I needed to make a break from that old 'I'm the wife of an alcoholic' thing. Anyway, I went through a lot of these comments, knowing exactly which ones were from her and remembering all the time she listened to me go over and over "what was wrong with me today."

Over the weekend, something happened that she would have gotten a kick out of and I picked up the phone to call her. I wonder when my brain will REALLY register that I won't ever hear her voice again.

Another thing I did, was click into the old blog and randomly read some things. Michael Michael Michael. bitch bitch bitch. I am grateful to the people who have been reading my blog- because damn I was a mess. Fastforward to now- and well, I still do a lot of bitching. I just think I'm less of a mess- or maybe I'm a DIFFERENT mess.

A pretty mess.

A hot mess.

A pretty hot mess.

Yeah, I like that.

I was also reading those days and how much peace I tried to have then. How I tried so hard to just get through every day without slitting my wrists or hitting my husband over the head with something really heavy. I'm different now. Somewhere along the lines I realized that it wasn't a mountain I wanted to die on.

It wasn't worth the climb, because you never GET to the top of the mountain when you are dealing with active addiction. You just keep climbing. Just keep struggling.

And you

can't

ever

stop.

Well I've stopped. My feet are planted and I'm just waiting for the tram to take me to safety. I should not have to want to die to get out of a marriage.

Weight Watchers, Take 3

I've been on WW before, and I the first time I did well. The second time, not so well.

So a few weeks ago when I got the email that Weight Watchers at work was coming back, I decided to give it another try.

Here's a few things about me and weight loss. I HATE to Exercise. I also LOVE to eat. Neither of these things are conducive with NOT having a big ass. However, I also don't like that I have to take blood pressure medications and my cholesterol is a tad high. Also, well, I'm getting tired of being fat. It's not ok. It's not cute. It's not fashionable. No, it's not BAD- it's not SHAMEFUL and it doesn't mean that I don't care about myself. I admit that I'm lazy and that's the only reason I don't do it.

I don't have the time to focus on healthy cooking. I don't cook. I tend to grab whats 'grab-able' and eat that. Often times, it's almost 10PM and what's close is a bowl of cereal. Many nights a week, my dinner consists of Reese's Puffs Cereal or Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Chances are I'm not eating enough, and I'm eating junk.

I chose Weight Watchers because it's pretty easy. Also, I can still eat frozen dinners, either the Weird Watchers or the Lean Cuisine meal. This is what works for me. Grabbing something portion and calorie controlled and throwing it in the microwave. Twice a day? Sure! It's easy and takes very little thought. Remember, I don't have time to cook. So this is easy for me. I HAVE to go with what works- and what is logical for my life.

So here it is, day 6 and I haven't a clue if the scale will show anything next week. I have seen my eating habits, I don't eat enough during the day and I my food choices at night are not great. Also, I need to drink water, More More MORE water.

Weigh in is Tuesday. I currently weigh the most I've ever weighed not pregnant. And I'm just about 6 pounds shy of what I weighted when I WAS. That is frightening.

So wish me luck and hey, I have something to blog about. My big fat butt!