Showing posts with label solitude. Show all posts
Showing posts with label solitude. Show all posts

Monday, August 4, 2014

Abandoned...

If you've ever watched the movie Beaches, you may remember the part where Cici's mother and she were having a conversation about her need for constant attention.  How she wanted the constant attention of everyone she was around and she wore everyone out to the point where they could no longer deal with her.

I believe there are people who just need more attention than others.  I know that I am one of them.  My husband is a work-a-holic.  I know that sounds crazy, but I think those of us with an "ism" can recognize another with an "ism" when we begin to recover.  And my husband is a work-a-holic.  When I met him, he was working for Boise State University, a job that he traveled *maybe* twice a year for.  Then he went to Capital One in their IT dept, and since their HQ are in Richmond, Virginia, he was traveling much more often.  Then, the Boise office closed, and we had several months of severance pay, during which he was able to find another job.  He worked there only a couple of months, because a different job with better pay came up, at Blue Cross of ID.  Travel slowed quite a bit, which was great.  And for two and a half years, everything seemed pretty good.

Then, Shad got the "itch".  Lots of politics in the world of insurance companies, even in IT.  And in big corporations, there are all the loopholes and garbage that went along with that.  So, Shad started interviewing for jobs.  To "keep my interviewing skills sharp."  Well, he was offered a job with the company he currently is working for.  It was a very small company, less than 50 employees.  Travel required.  But when we talked with another employee of that company, he said, "it's only travel for 2-3 days a week, and usually not every week."  We talked about it and pondered, etc., and I knew it was something he really wanted to do, so I told him it would be fine, even though I was extremely wary of the amount of travel that would be done.  This was summer of 2008.

October of 2008, he was asked to take on a project in Salt Lake City, as the company was trying to expand into that area.  It would basically mean he would be working as a consultant for the state of Utah, and he'd need to be there five days a week and home on weekends.  I found out while visiting my parents in FL, and we needed to make a decision rather quickly, he'd be leaving the Monday after Thanksgiving.  I was really worried, but we talked about it and I knew he wanted to do it because he was so new at the company and was still trying to establish a relationship with the sales reps, one in particular.  He was worried about me because his travel up to that point had been fairly hard on me.  I told him it would be fine because he'd be home every weekend, etc.  It was most certainly not fine.  I'm not sure the point at which things just went crazy.  I had shoulder surgery in the beginning of November that year, had to find someone to help me to physical therapy twice a day because I wasn't even allowed to move my arm on my own.  Needless to say, it was not a good start to the project.

I also started home schooling my younger daughter due to some problems she was having.  She is on the autism spectrum and she was really having difficulty adjusting.  She was having problems with some girls who were just nasty and mean.  I home schooled her from the beginning of October til mid February and by the time I got her re-enrolled in school, I was suicidal.  Basically, the long story made short was that I stopped functioning.  I have still not become fully functional.

Summer of 2007 was when he took what he likes to refer to as a "hobby job", working with the drum line of Nampa High.  (The story of how this came to be is far too long for me to relate right now.)  Anyway, at that point he was only working during the summer, and he wasn't included in any of anything else that happened.  I was fine with that.  I think he was too, at the time.  The first year he didn't even get paid.  The second year he got $500.  Then the band director "retired" and most of the existing staff with him.  Shad was the only one who stayed.  It was devastating to the kids when that happened, Nampa was winning DIII yearly and had been for quite some time.  Shad didn't get a say in the new director, even though they said he would.  The hiring process was done before anything else was said to him about it.

Fall came, and we met with the new band director.  Thankfully, we both loved him and he and Shad have really worked together quite well.  I loved that he was from Iowa, which is where I grew up, and he was young, so he'd be able to relate to the kids well.  There has been a deep mutual respect between Shad and him from the beginning.

Every year, I'd complain and say that this was the last year Shad was going to do this.  Then, miraculously, marching band would be over and I'd have enough respite to go again through another season.  Last year, however, was RIDICULOUS.  Extremely difficult, filled with drama from kids and ADULTS, (which, honestly, GROW UP, people.  If you're old enough to vote, stay out of the drama BS.)  Parents of some who were threatening to sue over this, that and the next and I'd had it.  I decided for sure that it would be his last year.  When it was mentioned to the band director, he said, "When Shad leaves, I leave."

My jaw just dropped open.  I think it may have even had flies go in.  Shad and I had long discussed the detrimental effects that kind of crap had on the kids.  There were kids who dropped band when Dr. Stone retired and never gave the program a chance.  What could I do?  There was NO way I could make sure I had what I needed while making sure that the band kids, whom I love dearly, would not lose TWO directors instead of just one.   Friday night, we had a dinner and a band booster meeting, where the band director sat next to me and said, "Is this going to be Shad's last year... Again...?"  I was furious.  I love this man, I love his wife.  He has no kids of his own, however, so no matter how bad a day with the band kids might be, he doesn't have to take any of them home with him.  We have two kids in the band.  We have another starting college in the fall with the unrealistic expectation of not taking out ANY loans.  And we have three more on the autism spectrum which brings its own lovely challenges to the party.  And, we're a blended family.  So we get all sorts of advice on how to deal with our kids, but most of them come from people who don't understand the uniqueness of our situation, or don't have children, or both.

Shad travels with his "real" job rather extensively.  Last week he was gone.  He was gone the week before that, AND the week before that.  During all of that time, *I* am taking care of everything.  This is NOT what I signed on for.  During band season, which goes from the first full week of August until (this year) the first week in November, I rarely see my husband.  There are times when he goes directly from the airport after being gone for days to the high school for rehearsal.  I have a great deal of frustration over this.  I always come AFTER the jobs, no matter what it is.  And then I have someone being sarcastic and shitty about it, not realizing the amount of sacrifice on my part that goes in to having my husband have a second job that takes away from my family constantly.

My kids are only going to be young once, and the sad part about it is that when they look back on their childhood, they are going to remember that their dad was ALWAYS gone and their mom was always pissed off about it and, therefore, yelling constantly.  When I'm pissed at him, it gets taken out on the kids.  Is it right?  No.  Is it real?  Unfortunately.

SO - here I sit on the first day of band camp, alone, watching the three autistic super heroes while I sit in my pajamas.  Yesterday,  I was in bed ALL day, with the exception of when I was being seen at the urgent care for a UTI that was one of the worst I've ever had.  Pain in my bladder and kidneys had me doubled over and having so much blood in my urine that it was pink.  I am still in my pajamas today, at almost one-thirty in the afternoon.  And there's not a damn thing I can do about it.  Nothing.  I cannot even get off my chair right now to deal with the dogs or anything else.  I'm just tired.  All the time.  So, you know... keep poking at the bear.  Because one of these days, the bear is going to attack like a wounded, wild animal.  You have fun with that.




Monday, February 10, 2014

Pick me. Choose me. Love me.

I know I shouldn't care...  My sponsor tells me that it's none of my business what people think about me.  But when it's people I love or in this case, someone who my husband loves...  I've tried and tried and tried.  And I just can't do it anymore.  I'm SO broken this time after everything he has put me through.  And I feel like it was my fault because I was "unapproachable".    And I look at my life and it's not how I planned it or in any semblance of ANYTHING I want to claim right now.  And I want to die.  I just want to go lie down in the snow on a mountain and go to sleep and die.  And I can't.  I am paralyzed by the fear and shame and doubt and complete lack of faith I have.  And I try.  I really do...  I just...  I can't keep going forward.  Sometimes I just need to stop and be stuck and work through whatever is stopping me up.  WHY can't I just FEEL better!?  I just want to feel better and BE better and just BE.  I go through the motions and I just can't help but feel that everything I do is BULL SHIT.  I cannot continue, but I can't stand still.  God help me, I am trying so hard to do His will.  I just feel like the wheels have fallen off and I only have ONE spare.  I'm naked, raw, hurting, and I don't know how I'm ever going to get better.  I don't think I am ever going to get better.  Oh my HELL, this pain.. you just don't even know.  I can't breathe, I can't cry, I can't scream.  I can't even move.  I am just dying inside and nothing and no one can help me.  I finally understand why people cut.  I'd be lying if I said I didn't consider it.  Often.  I'm a zombie.  I'm dead inside and occasionally something or someone will try to revive me.  But it is too late for me.  I'm already gone.  I walk as a shell of a woman... well, a big shell... but a shell nevertheless.  I'm permanently damaged.  Broken.  And I can't be returned or fixed so no one wants me.  I don't even want me.  I don't know why this shit is all coming out right now.  But I'm SO SO SO fucked up.  OMG, it hurts so FUCKING bad.  I can't even describe it.  WHY do I have to deal with this?

Because I feel like SHE is still a presence.  And I hate her.  And every time I think of her, I pray for her.  But I think part of the problem is that I pray that she will have everything I want for myself, and the reality is I want my husband.  So how do I pray that she have everything I want.  Because I'm not willing to let him go.  I don't know... maybe if I just let him go, this wouldn't hurt so much.  I just don't know how to do what I feel in my heart was the answer for me.  Because I hurt so bad while I try to heal.  It's like every week or so, someone comes and yanks the big scab off, and I bleed and bleed and bleed and bleed.  And every time it gets opened up, the wound gets deeper.  And it takes more packing.  And a bigger scab.  And longer to heal.  Help me, Lord.  Please come and heal me.  Take this pain from me, I don't want it.  I'm grateful I have a savior who has suffered all earthly pains for me.  Please help me to remove my anger for the people who have hurt me.  Please help me to not judge whatever is wrong in their lives, because just as they don't see my pain, I don't see theirs.  Right now, right this moment, thank You for the peace You have given me.

Haiku

What can I do?  When
I don't want to die, but I
don't want to live, too?

Thursday, January 30, 2014

Help Wanted: White Knight.

Sometimes I sit and I can't even function.  I can't think, I can't create...  I just sit in a daze, trying to make sense of my life.  I look back on better times and I have NO idea how/if things will EVER get back to normal.  I found a page from and old journal this morning, and I was saying how grateful I was to have a husband who is also my friend.  I was pondering that and thought to myself, "What is he now?"  I'm so screwed up, and I WANT to have faith and know that God is watching out for me.  I know He can't mess with anyone else's free agency.  But WHY does my husband think that he needs something from someone else?  I would give him my life if that's what he wanted.  But that's not what he wants.  He wants boobs.  He doesn't care who they're attached to.  And then he wonders why I don't want to have sex even when physically I'm fine.  I don't trust him.  I don't think I'll ever trust him.  And I resent some of the behaviors he's exhibiting now.  How can this continue?  We talk about it and he's good for a few days, and then things just go back to the way they were.

I'm SO broken.  And I don't think I'm ever going to be okay.  Fixed isn't even on my radar.  ALIVE.  I feel dead inside.  I am so heartbroken.  And when he is supposed to be the one person I can turn to, I can't.  I have NO ONE.  Because *I* have alienated them.  Not even on purpose, but it's been one of those things that I had to pull into myself to survive.  There are so many days that I just want to die.  I contemplate cutting myself because I don't really feel anything.  I've engaged in other behaviors that are similar, but it just doesn't seem like enough anymore.

I'm desperately alone, which is dangerous for me as an alcoholic.  Some have coined the phrase, "terminal uniqueness" and it's hauntingly true.  I sit at home and I eat and I cry and sometimes I scratch my arms or legs...  He swears he's here.  But the way he's acting is like when I first moved here to Idaho.  He's just shut down.  Like he can't take anymore of me being the way I am.  But it's not even my fault.  I would have just let my ovaries travel wherever they wanted to if I'd known this would happen.  I hate myself and I just need him to love me.  The way things were a couple of years ago.  I'm at the end of my rope.  The knot has come untied, and the rope is fraying dangerously fast.  Who is going to rescue me?  Because I definitely need a white knight before it's too late.

Wednesday, June 19, 2013

It's official...

I'm broken.  There has been talk of adoption.  We even tried once.  Nine years ago.  I had an appointment this morning with an attorney.  I met him by accident, he is helping a dear friend of mine through a nasty divorce.  And we happened to be hanging out when she had to take some stuff by his office.  Well, I happened to go with her, and I met him.  He met with me immediately.  And he gave me another consultation today.  It's going to be a $5000 retainer.  Which I don't have.  It's also going to be the straw that breaks the camel's back.  Because the man I'm married to is going to let his fear of being broke, and/or losing come before these kids.  I'm sorry, but WHY am I married?  He's never here.  I'm a single parent without the luxury of being single.  I never had to worry about what someone else was doing.  Whether they were cheating.  Whether they were sitting next to me on the couch while texting someone else or looking at her boobs.  And now...  He's scared about the fucking money.  Well I'm sick of it.  I can't tell you how many attorneys we've consulted over the years and the timing is NEVER right for him.  Maybe that should be my clue.  I GIVE THE HELL UP.  God, please hear me when I say if you want me to stay with this man, there better be some serious change going on up in here.  Because I can't do this anymore.  I'm not going to waste ten more years wondering how I fit in *his* life while I give up my own.  I'm DONE.  I just can't do this.  Two days from my freaking ten year anniversary.  Maybe I should retain this guy for a divorce instead.  Whatever.  I'm sick of hurting, being shoved aside while EVERYTHING else takes precedent over me.

I've been taken for granted for so long I just don't even know how to put myself first anymore.  I'm so tired.  I'm just expected to be here for whenever he needs me, but when *I* need something...  I just can't keep allowing myself to be hurt continually.  Where is my safety net?  My family doesn't fit, so HE was the fit.  And just when I finally got to the point that I was comfortable, he ripped the rug out from under me.  It's never going to be the same.  Ever.  I just don't know what to do anymore.