Open, not over.

So this week I thought to disclose my 'relatonship status' to my family. Come out with it to the few that don't know. My parents, really. Hey mom and dad, guess what I'm dating.

Chances are my mother thinks I'm engaging in elicit affairs with strangers anyway- so maybe she will be somewhat relieved to know that there is actually just ONE person. Who knows really. I expect the worst and the only reason I am even considering coming out with it, is that he's a part of my life and around my family. So I'd rather be the one to tell them, than have my 8 year old do it- and then have him unfairly pressed for information.

The husband and I have talked about the situation at great length. He and the TheBoyfriend get along pretty well. My sons like him. The husband and I are calm about the situation as if there is nothing wrong with it, and in turn, the kids don't see anything wrong with it. If anyone is going to have an issue, it would be the husband. If he's ok with it, then really, I don't know that it is anyone else's place to take issue. And really if they want to, they can.

I pretty much know that there is a lot of talk about me behind my back in my family circle. It's ok, I love them just the same. Judge me all you want, I make a perfect target and after this many years, I'm ok with that. The fact that they are nice to me to my face, doesn't make me love them any less. Really, I just don't care anymore. To be honest, I'd rather they keep their opinions of me to themselves, because I don't really have the energy to try to change their minds. And who knows, maybe they are right. I guess I'm ok with that too.

In general, I'm not I'm a horrible person who does horrible things to people. I might engage in some things people don't agree with- but that's my business. I'm not hurting anyone. My kids are not running around the streets or engaging in behavior that would make anyone think that they are 'acting out'. Ok, so maybe I'm defending myself now, but it's my blog- I can do what I want here. So I go out a few times a week. I think I'm entitled to enjoy my life a little bit and it is not to any else's detriment that I do so.

So as I'm preparing myself to simply say, "Mom, Dad.... I'm dating." I'm, of course, wondering what the backlash will be. Will she call my sister? Who will say, yeah- I know. Will she call my brother? Who will say, "Oh yeah- I heard." Will she tell me that she is so against my adulterous lifestyle that she no longer wants to engage with me and my children? Doubtful. The worst that will happen is that she will no longer agree to babysit for me to do anything social- which really I don't ask her to do anyway. I'm not looking for her approval, I just want them to have a heads up. I'm almost 40. It's time my parents know that I'm NOT at the movies.

No, I'm a grown ass woman making grown ass decisions about my grown ass life. I'm not ashamed.

Everyone knows why my marriage is 'open' instead of 'over'.

It's ok if you don't agree. I sleep just fine, and I look myself in the mirror just fine.

I am living my life with as few regrets as possible and why would anyone want anything different for me or anyone else.

May flowers.

As May comes to an end, I'm reminded of change. I'm reminded of progress.

Alot has changed his January. I'm in a new relationship with a man who is MADE of awesomeness. He is everything I need in my life, and nothing that I don't want. You know that ridiculous line from Jerry McGuire- that... You.Complete.Me.

Ok, I won't go there. I can't. but yeah, it's like that. And here, I'll give you all the dirty details. He's younger than me. by about 12 years. He's 27 years old and he absolutely fits my spaces. I adore him and I'm the happiest I've been in a while.

So this weekend, Daddy (yes I call the younger guy, Daddy) spent the weekend at the house with me and the family. Yes- me, the husband, the kids, and the 'boyfriend' (although he's not exactly my boyfriend). Under the same roof at night. And I was laying in bed, next to Daddy- hearing the husband making coffee in the kitchen and the kids rustling about- and it occurred to me how much progress I've made in my personal life. That how being honest and true to what I need to be happy, I have actually achieved it to a level that makes me happy.

This month I put together two events for Stroke Awareness. One was for work, and one was private within my lifestyle crowd. I took a road trip to Colorado to see my daughter graduate form high school.

I completed my Masters Degree.

Yes, change. Progress. Moving forward.

Life is good....

It's a new day, it's a new life.

Welcome to 2011. It started with a kiss.

I have not been kissed at midnight in a long time, except on the cheek from Alex- but that hardly counts. I enjoyed a nice kiss from MrX at a party with some friends. Shortly thereafter, someone bumped into me, spilling my sparkling cider on my sweatshirt. Well, that's ok.

So I've decided to write mildly about my relationships here- without being at all disrespectful to my family or my husband. I came home from my New Years eve plans and drifted to sleep on the couch. Michael came out and we talked about my evening and then he put me to bed, tucking me in and kissing me goodnight. I am grateful for our friendship, even if sometimes it kinda sucks. For all intents and purposes- he's my life partner, until the day it's decided that he's not. We can co-exist together for now. One married day at a time.

I haz a blog and I will write.

I know right?? Oh my God- she's blogging here? What is she going to say??

Heh- to be honest I have no real clue. I have a head full of thoughts and I'm struggling to put them into full sentences. So here's my brain scramble, try to keep up.

I have no idea how my apartment gets so fucking messy and why I am completely incapable of keeping it clean. I mean- sometimes I think I'm the messiest girl ever.

Today I came home from work and straightened up, so that tomorrow I can clean. I need prep cleaning before I can clean. That's how bad it is. However tonight I de-trash the living room and kitchen. I did a small amount of shopping, washed my sheets, cleaned the cat box and paid the cable bill and fed the kids. Seems pretty simple, but usually I come home from work and take a nap, I wake up when dinner is ready. Do some homework with the kids if needed, read and then it's back to the couch for my homework- or another nap.

My husband, for all his faults, is a better domestic partner than I am.

I know- back and forth and who the hell knows from one day to the next if I am going to be married to him, divorce him, or kill him my damn self!! I haven't made any real decisions about that. I'm just taking it day by day. I know that will disappoint some people, but if you know me- well you know me and I don't have to explain my reasons. If you don't know me, well, you wouldn't understand if I told ya!

However, my new life has it's benefits. A few weeks ago, Alex asked me how my evening was- and I told him minor details. Michael walked into the room and asked what we were talking about and Alex answered, "Mom's date." and the three of us had a bit of a conversation about my date. Really it was more about traffic and the crazy parking situation in LA, but still.

Me and my open marriage.

And a calm conversation about it.

I call that a win.

Letter to my partner

Dear Michael,

I'm not going to focus on the bad things. We have enough bad memories, regrets and disappoinments to last 25 years. Instead, I'm going to focus on something in common, but good. The kids.

Alex seems to be doing ok now that his gf is on vacation. He sleeps late and stays up late but I don't ive him too much grief about it. I have to constantly ride him about doing his chores which makes me feel kinda bad that I always told you to get off of his case about his chores. You were right, if I don't tell him 5 times, it doesn't get done. Perhaps it WAS getting done because you were riding him all day about it. I worry a little about the boys he's hanging out with. He has alluded that M and H are into some 'stuff I wouldn't like' - but that he doesn't do stuff like that cause his gf wouldn't like it. I suspect he's kept his nose clean, but you can never be sure.

Gabe is doing better. Lately I am frustated with him because he won't eat. He fusses about everything I make, but then complains that he's starving. I'm trying to be patient and understand that he's going thru a lot, but he's just pushing back for no apparent reason. I can't let the kid starve, but he's so stubborn, I'm tempted.

Danny is just Danny. He's in his own little world Like I said, he hasn't asked much about you- but I see his behavior regressing. He's watching the preschool TV shows and find himself fascinated as if he's not seem them before. It's a bit disconcerting but somehow it isn't manifesting into any other bad behavior so I won't complain too much.

And me? well, you know it isn't easy bein me these days. It was nice to see you the other day and I admit I was a bit needy and emotional. I'm glad that one of us is in a good place and we didn't let sad emotions get the best of us. I want to do what's best for all of us, and I think we are on the right path to that- but I can't help but be a little sad, thinking... what if?? I can't hold out those kind of hopes anymore as it puts too much pressure on you and to be honest, I think some things are better left out to pasture- you know? Regardless, it was good to see and hear you sounding hopeful about sobriety. It is good to see you hopeful about anything.

Either way, seeing you made me smile- the hug was much needed and I appreciated it more than you know. It's a dreary existence some days- and it's nice to know that someone will still give me a no strings attached hug if I ask for it.

Thank you for that.

love,
julie

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.

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.

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. ;)

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.

No triple talaq

The triple talaq is a mechanism for divorce which exists in some forms of Islam. It simply consists of the husband saying the phrase I divorce you (Arabic:talaq) to the wife, three times.

Wouldn't that be nice huh??

Well that isn't how they do it here in California. In California when you want to get a divorce you have to gather some papers and go visit a local courthouse, find the right building, which never happens on the first try and then go wait in line. When you get to the window, you find out that you're missing something.

So you go home, or back to work- and get the form you are missing- then go back later that day. There will be about 10 people in line, and someone will have a crying baby. It's not a huge deal, babies cry. Luckily the baby will be cute- so that helps and you feel sorry for the baby. So then you will text your friends about how excited you are- and some chatter about the baby- because you know... by then you just wanna help the mom out and hold and snorgle that cute baby....

So when you get to the front of the line. The excitement overwhelms you and you go up to the clerk and exclaim with great joy, "I'm filing for divorce!"

She looks through you papers as you hold your breath. You make small talk, ask her, "so how was YOU'RE day dear?" You are nice, friendly, sympathetic. Anything for a smile. You worry because she doesn't smile right away- realizing that this woman who is probably underpaid to deal with litigious people all day is what stands between you and your freedom.

Finally a smile, and you actually HEAR the heavens open up. Yes, you hear them.

You will make a joke about how you should be more sad than this- but you can't help yourself. She laughs. And reaches for it. That magical apparatus that you've waited for since the day you realized you deserve more than this marriage had to offer. The stamped. FILED. Then the other stamper with a CASE NUMBER.

Holy shit, you're getting a divorce.

So it's not as easy as saying.

"I divorce you

I divorce you

I divorce you..."

But then again, it's not SO bad...

Everything you need for a fresh start

Life has been pretty hectic lately. With the usual busy work and school I have some added fun things. This Saturday is our annual Women's Heart and Stroke Event that I do much to coordinate. My father is having surgery next week, which will require me to find alternative day care/ rides for all three of my kids who start school at the same time, in two different locations- but end school at different times. Also, Mike is not here. He's off getting.... better. Or something. I'm not sure what he's getting, but he's getting on my fucking nerves.

Detox is hard, and detoxing off of meds that you take for pain? Well, you watch House, you know... Anyway- he's in pain and miserable and dead set on making my life miserable, since on top of being in pain- he's also an addict. So detox is hard and I'm MORE than happy to give him space, space and more space to go thru that- and when he comes out on the otherside of detox and starts TREATMENT- I plan to be right there, ready and waiting.

with divorce papers.

So today I went out and bought a book.

I know right? But I need to start somewhere. I can't get a lawyer, I really don't think I need one. We have no assets, nothing other than this apartment is in "our" names. We practically agree on everything in regards to who gets what. My stance is "take what you want if you have someplace to put it." I really don't care. A couch, a bed, a dresser. Fucking take it. It means nothing. I just want to walk out with my life, and my kids, I don't see that it's going to be a problem, except for the drama.

He said to me today, "Well the girls in the house feel that it's pointless for me to even talk to you about working things out."

"What?" I asked, "When did we start talking about working things out? I thought we both agreed we want this?"

As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I regretted them because he said. "Oh well it's what YOU want- so it's what I want."

Oh good lord. So you're doing me a FAVOR? Are you fucking kidding me? You don't have to agree to the divorce, you know, genius? But ok. tell me- what do these "girls" say? These girls- who know nothing but what you've told them. These girls who have not had to deal with your ass for 10 years, bgut just under 10 DAYS. sure.

No- actually- don't tell me.

"Yes, it is what I want," I finally said.

"And I'll give it to you."

Oh- you'll GIVE IT to me. Gee THANKS!! I didn't tell him that I'd already bought the book- that would seem cruel. Sure, you want to think you are doing me a favor. The pied piper of marital dissolution wishes? Whatever.

And of course, I have some weird feelings about it. But they are just feelings- they don't mean anything. The weird feelings I have about divorce are about as insignificant as my feelings about love and trust and honesty in this marriage. It'd be nice f we could get a handle on it- but there's no need to have expectations, rights?

I was watching Waiting to Exhale this morning. It's funny how the years go by and I relate to different characters in the books I loved in my 20's. Back in my very early 20's- I was Robin, the one who kept meeting the wrong men and making excuses. Now, I think I'm more Bernadine.

"I thought that if I gave him what needed, he'd give me what I need."

Yeah, I don't think that anymore. Now it's more like, "I hope if I give him what he needs- he'll stay out of my way."

Nobody seems to understand my decisions and that's fine. A friend of mine said, "Oh you're never going to leave him."

I said, "Now why would you go and say something like that? That's just mean."

What did I ever do to that guy???

perspective

Mike suggested I go back to therapy. Maybe I do need to get back into therapy. I can hear my friends- and Christine from the other side saying... yes yes yes you do.

It's not that don't BELIEVE in therapy, because I do. I was in therapy for a long time after my first divorce... and when Michael and I were first married. Then there was the years in Al-Anon. I acknowledge the importance of therapy and I am not ABOVE getting professional help.

I just don't have the time or the money or the energy that it takes. When the cash flow gets low, I am the first to give up the things I "need". I quote "need" because really- what do I NEED? I had a conversation with a coworker the other day in which she said, you know- "When I came to work today- most of my 'needs' were met" and she referenced the chart below. I take a look at this today- and I think... you know, maybe it's not all so bad. Other than a general fear of death, disease and bankruptcy... I think I'm ok.

I am healthy, I have coffee and a banana for breakfast and I'm bringing lunch to work today. Rent is paid, my kids are safe. I have friends and famly- and while the sexual/intimacy thing is not PERFECT, it could sure be worse. My esteem is pretty well in check and to be honest I think I as far as self-actualization goes... well, I'm not too far from where I can possible be at this point in my life.

Maybe what I need to do is look at this list every day- and realize that it's not all so bad. Many people have less. I am not depressed. I'm just anxious. Jumpy and a bit restless. The upcoming separation weighs as heavily upon me as it is also a rock in my shoe. I worry about how it will effect the things I need. How it will effect my feelings of safety and love, how it will effect my children.

But then, it's just time passing. He and I both knew that this was bound to happen eventually and we are both in agreement that it SHOULD happen. There's sadness, but relief for both of us. I believe that.

So while maybe it would help me to talk to someone about my 'feelings' and perhaps attempt to salvage whatever heart I may have left before I walk out of this marriage more jaded that I already am.... another part of me feels that it's just not something I need right now. I'm tearing my family apart, I think maybe I can set my "wants" aside for a little while. Maybe I'm all used up on that right now.

When nothing changes, nothing changes...

(just ranting)

I know this and have known it for a long time.

Earlier this year my husband and I decided to split up. I don't know why this is so complicated. We've played house, and played nice for a long time and our original plan was that he'd be moved out by September.

Well here it is- and nothing has changed. The only difference is that I've changed. I can see this relationship in it's entirety. I know it's over. I really think that he knows it's over. We are just biding time. Tying up loose ends. Making things works. Playing nice. Looking back on 10 years, I know I did my best- but somethings just need to end. This marriage was bound to fail and I know why. He wasn't strong enough, I tried to be strong for the both of us. I still try- and I'm still not.

Now it's over. I want to get on with my life. I need to stop the enabling, I need to end this facade because I'm not even trying anymore. We are as nice to each other as strangers or roomates. Maybe a little nicer- but in general, it's over. So over. If you've been reading my blog for a while, you know this. You know what's happened, and this is nothing new.

It's not just me. He knows its over. He doesn't want to be with me either. Sometimes though, the past comes back to haunt you. Mistakes you make in the past keep you from having a future. I see this now. Nothing comes without a cost. I know that I haven't always made the right choices, but I'm trying. I'm trying to move on, have a life and just get on with it. I want to do what's best for all of us. I used to think that splitting up was ONLY good for me- but I realize that it's what's best for everyone. For me, the boys and especially Mike. It's hard though. It's uncomfortable.

It's expensive.

The next phase will come at a high cost to everyone. I know this- but I have to trust that it will be better for everyone in the end. There's no reward without sacrifice. Who said that?

(end rant)

evidence of the crime

I got a letter in the mail a month ago from my work saying that they had hired an outside human resource company to do dependent verification. I thought it meant that I was going to get a letter, confirming who my dependents are, based on who is being covered on my employee health insurance.

I got the official letter from this company last week. I set it aside until yesterday- when I thought that I had better pay attention to the due date, because it's very much like me to do that. What the letter states is that I need to come up with evidence, documents, to prove that these dependents are really mine. That I'm not paying for insurance for... someone elses husband and kids?

unlikely.

So I need to come up with birth certificates for my kids, to prove that they are MY kids. OK fine. I have those, and I can get one for Sarah- connection Sarah to her father- who is connected to me. Perhaps divorce papers showing that he is supposed to provide health insurance. Something like that.

Lastly- and what I find the most funny is that I need to come up with a Marriage Certificate for me and Mike. Hmmmmm.... I don't have this. I never did get an official copy. Was I supposed to? I don't remember. We got married out of state. No not Vegas, but close.

I remember the chapel we got married at. I don't remember applying for a marriage license. I'm sure we did.

Didn't we?

I have no clue. I suspect the nice man would not have married us if we didn't have all the proper forms- right? So I need to look in to this. Get a copy of this marriage certificate, cause I don't think I have one. I've never been asked to prove it before.

And isn't that strange....?

I've never been asked to PROVE that we are married. I want to say that I HAD to have it when I changed my social security number. However, if this was the case... I would know- and remember that I had this license in my possession. I had to look up where to get a copy. You'd think that I'd remember this information. I don't forget having things, I just forget where I put them.

Along with a marriage certificate- I also have to have something else. Some other statement of ownership. Tax forms. Something. I don't have this. We don't own anything together. We don't file taxes together. We don't bank together. You can't make me sign legal documents.

I signed the marriage license, this should be enough.
Wait.... did I?

So I have to prove in more ways that one that I married him. Is the exhaused and defeated look not enough? Is the fact that I actually PAY the medical bills not an indicator that I do it because I HAVE to. I'm nice, but I'm not so nice that I would do this for someone I wasn't legally obligated to do it for.

Ok fine. I will go ahead and get you your documents. We have a lease agreement on our apartment- that's the only thing that has both of our names on it. That and the marriage license we signed.

Apparently.

breakdown...

I seem to be having from some sort of breakdown or crisis and I didn't notice it until my boss called me to task yesterday. In a big way. I didn't get fired or anything, but it was just pointed out that my work has been subpar. I have unfinished projects. I'm behind on a lot of things. I didn't really have any good explanation for it.

When I got home last night I realized that the laundry was still piled up. Both clean and dirty laundry. It's been a three days since we've needed it and I seem to be just making quick trips to the grocery store to pick up what is needed for that day- but I haven't gone 'shopping'.

I have a 5 page paper due on Sunday that I have not looked at yet. I have a homework assignment due on Thursday.

I'm behind on my life.

Really, I don't care.

I am detached and indifferent and while I know I can't LET it happen, but part of me just doesn't CARE if all the pieces of my life crumble in front of me. Even acknowledging it, doesn't encourage me to change it. I find myself begrudgingly making lists t0 organize my life. Planning out the next 5 days in order to get my work done, my homework done, the laundry, the shopping, clean the house... blah blah blah.

The truth is, though, that I really don't care right now. I feel like I'm standing outside looking in- watching what is going on in this life as if it's not even mine. Not really caring too much what anyone has to say about it either. I don't want to spend a breath of energy on this tasks that don't seem to ADD anything to my life, but just make it possible for me to keep living it in the silently desperate state that I live it in.

I'll get back on the ball, because I know I have to. I'll spend a week playing catch up and then return to "life" as normal. I have no joy- I think that's my problem. I just want to focus on the things that make me laugh, and make me feel good- emotionally and physically. Not the things that I have to do in order to keep someone else in the miserable yet protected state he's in. I'm over it. I'm very much over my life, and even though it's supposed to change soon- I have my doubts.

It's time to go to work know... I'll set this to post later this afternoon, unless I change my mind or decide to snap out of it.

not soon enough

You know how people get pregnant, get engaged, get married, and die... in threes? I think the same happens with divorces.

Yet another friend of mine is getting divorced. sigh... all the good stuff happens to everyone else.

I know, I'm such a insufferable cunt. Can you blame me? Have you met me??

We've (read: I) decided that he's going to move out after the summer. August. Yes, I'm ready for this. So ready. We (read: I) decided this in March- before the break. I thought the break would help, but it didn't. It just made me want to make the break longer- or permanent. Yes, permanent sounds good.

I'm not sure why I am so damn stubborn. Why, for so long I was so insistent that we could make this pig fly. However, we've decided and discussed that we really took whatever semblance of a marriage and beat it to death. It's not just a dead horse, it's buried and the grass has grown over. It's time to move on.

SO TIME.

We get along, because that's what I do. I get along. I play nice. I've got it down to an art form. I have perfected 'playing nice' to an art form.

Tell me that you love me?
oh? Cool.
Tell me that you hate me?
oh? Cool.

Its hard going through life knowing that I failed at this. I know, I know... I didn't FAIL. But it feels like Fail. Major League Fail. Maybe the FAIL was staying so long. I'll never get these 10 years back. I don't know, maybe I don't want them. Perhaps in the fall I'll be a whole new Julie.

New and Improved.

Or not.

Hows this?

Thinner, Cynical and Jaded.

That sounds about right.

lexapro? not again

My relationship with mental health drugs has always been very kind of like/hate. There's never been a LOVE issue with them. I've never LOVED the way I feel on meds.

About 10 years ago I started getting chest pains. It would cause aches down my arms. My whole body would sort of ache and I would get restless and panic about it. My doctor would give me an ECG at least twice a year, since I have a family history of cardiac disease. After treating my husband, he figured out that I don't (yet) have cardiac problems.

He sent me to a psychologist and scripted me some Xanax. "You're not having a heart attack. No Julie, you're having anxiety attacks."

You think??

So I went to therapy for a while. On and off for years. Dr. O was my favorite. After Danny was born I saw a different one, Dr. N. Who encouraged me to do things for myself and keep my eye on my own goals, like finishing school. The last guy... I can't remember his name, he was more of a sounding board- but I saw him weekly and as I would talk, the 'answers' would sort of come to me, and he'd say, "ok... I'm following you."

I stopped seeing him when I got a new job in a new city. I haven't been to therapy since. When I went to work at the hospital, I also went back to Al-Anon, in place of therapy. That was ok for a while too.

I was on Xanax, as needed for many many years. At this point, as needed was starting to be 24/7. So I went to my new doctor and got my first script for something that was less dangerous than Xanax, which turned out to be Lexapro.

It wasn't bad. It helped a bit. After the first week of side effects, I was less apt to want to peel my skin off. The anxiety attacks became less frequent, but I still had the Xanax when I needed it. Maybe once or twice a week. At this same time, things in my life were changing so I think there were less things to be stressed out about. I stopped taking the lexapro when I couldn't afford it among other reasons. For as much as it helped, I never LIKED being on it. I always just felt a little LESS like me. Medication and therapy simply silenced me. It kept me from getting angry, and anger propels me. It encourages me to move forward. It inspires me to make decisions on my own behalf. Medications numb me a bit. It makes everything tolerable. Therapy helps me deal. AlAnon helped me stay.

What I need, is to go. So no therapy, no Lexapro.

However, today I'm going to refill my Xanax script. Just so I don't kill anyone, as needed.

Dan Savage, The Price of Admission

I have been listening to Dan Savage again lately.  He's great when I'm sitting on the exercise bike and while his advice is smart and straight forward- he simply makes me laugh too. 

There is no settling down, without some settling for.  A-men.

Where's your happy place??

Last night one of the things I thought (::Grey's Anatomy::) about when Izzy was having her fantazy talks with her tumor (her dead ex) was that her quiet place, her happy place- whatever that PLACE is... was a beach.

I don't think my happy place is on a beach.  

I'm not a beach person.

Of course I'm not a mountain person either.

Or a forest person.

Certainly not a DESERT person.

Well crap... what kind of person am I?  I know that my happy place can't just be sitting on my couch with big pillows watching reruns of Dawson's Creek.  

could it?

So where's my happy place?  Where do I feel complete?  Where do I feel calm and quiet, and peaceful and happy.  

Hmmm... you're right if you thought "New York"  You know me well.  But it's specific.

There was an Italian restaurant we ate at, the second night.  It was in the Village and we sat on the street.  The lights reflecting off the street.  The buzz of the city.  The clicking of silverware and the clinking of glasses.  Watching the people walking by.  Never feeling alone.

It's as close as I can get to a happy place... and it suits me fine.

My other thought is that I think I need to refer to my ex husband(s) as "my tumors."