Thursday, January 31, 2008

Feeding Frenzy

That's it! I'm not cooking him anymore dinners!
Now, I don't want this blog to turn into a bitch-fest (unless I start letting my friends guest-blog) but I have to get it out people!
So...
DH says on Thurs night, after dinner (he came to visit the kids, got here earlier than I thought he would and so ate dinner with us), while I'm cleaning the kitchen, that he has cancelled our credit cards and closed our line of equity. Damn. Should have taken more money out of that thing.
You see a week ago I started to panic as our accounts were getting more-than-the-usual dangerously low. So low I had not enough to pay the sitter that day. So I went to the bank and took a measly $1,000 out of our line of equity and put it in a new personal checking account all my own. DH did get wind of this and got upset but I didn't take nearly as much as I was instructed by my girlfriends. Always listen to your girlfriends!!!
So dh closed the line of equity. He cancelled the cards. Said he wanted me to know "up front."
Well, not THAT up front because I found that out when trying to pay our HEALTH INSURANCE PREMIUM and my CHIROPRACTIC BILL. Silly expenses. Silly woman.
I was at the chiro office when the card was "declined." Such a nice term. No, we won't honor this card at present. We decline.
The office manager started laughing after I had her run it twice. "I guess your husband is cutting up your cards." And the whole office cracked up. And that's when it hit me.
As I'm half-assed laughing with them.
Everything in slow motion.
He is. He is cutting up my cards. Holy shit.
Let the games begin.

Tuesday, January 29, 2008

????????????

And here I thought we could be fuck buddies.
How's that for a title? Yeah, that's why I didn't go with it.
So my dh is hot to get divorced.

I've tried to explain to him that emotionally I need some time to recover before we rush into mediation. BTW, that word mediation looks a lot like meditation but is TOTALLY different.

It was two weeks ago yesterday he left.

I'm still trying to figure out how to get the kids to bed by myself.
I still cry every single day for the little things (read BIG) that I realize have changed forever.
Who will I watch Lost with? By myself? How fun is that?
And all that shared history. Eleven years and counting. There's just all those gazillion minute moments of past that you shorthand with someone you've known for that long and with that kind of intimacy.
I don't know if I'm going to get that back.

I mean, SHIT.
I just got our health care taken care of and I'm going to be taken off the plan.
I am so not part of the plan.
I feel like I'm in Junior High. He doesn't love me. He never did. Not really.
It's a break-up. Clean and simple. He's gone. "Shut-down." Fini. It's rejection. It's "do I look fat in this?" Who will slow-dance with me? Every song on the radio suddenly applies to my situation. Donna Summer songs make me weep. I am no longer part of a couple. There's no other. Certainly no lover. Just a broken heart.

So he calls tonight to say he wants to "do this thing." Fuck me.

I explained to him, again, that I'm not ready. I need more time. My therapist said I need time to emotionally recover.
He says, "Yeah, I e-mailed your therapist to tell her how worried I am about you."
?????????????????????????????
I should say right here that this is all fact.
FYFI.
Reply in the comments if you have THAT acronym figured out.

So...I breathed...this was about 7:30pm tonight mind you...just trying to get the kiddoes in bed. A real challenging part of my day I'm trying to build from scratch. I don't need to get all riled up.
So he basically says, he won't sign the re-fi papers (which is happening at the end of the month...like everything else in my life...what is with f-ing Feb first???? And what is with the question marks????) until we're in mediation.
Let me help you there, he won't move forward on our impending re-fi until we're in mediation.
And I say, you're really holding my hand to the flame here, and he says:
(in ugly elevated rage voice)
LIKE YOU HAVEN'T HELD MY HAND TO THE FLAME!
click
I hung up that phone speedy quick I tell you cause I had to get back to reading Junie B. Jones with a totally different emotion than the one I was feeling.

Well, at least I'm not wanting him right now in that fuck buddy kind of way.
I can still cry about Lost. And the shared history. And how my heart is breaking like a humiliating Junior High, eleven-year-long, un-requited crush.
But him, specifically, not feeling it. Pretty pissed.

I was hoping we could do this without hanging up on each other.
But I've hoped for lots of things.
Pema (the Buddhist goddess) says hopelessness is a good thing because you forsake the idea of an alternative condition. This is it baby. The poop's on the platter. Well, she doesn't say that. But I get it. Hope isn't always your friend. Reality. Authen-fucking-ticity. Now there's a girlfriend you can count on.
Gotta love it.
And I love you.
In all ways.

Thursday, January 24, 2008

Stormy Weather

I have a lot on my plate right now.
And so it has been a rough day. I have cried many times, which actually I'm grateful for. It's a release to be able to stop every couple feet and let the tears fall where they may.
To weep.
The sky has been weepy today.
Right now it's actually balling, but I'm not. I'm okay. The light is fading.
Both kids are napping.
Ding Ding Ding Ding! :-)
My dh is coming over tonight to have dinner with the kids and put them to bed. I am going out with my bestest friendest J.H. to see some Johnny Depp....mmmm....
Speaking of mmmm....I made my dh (and kids) dinner. Grilled chicken with pesto (my specialty) and pasta. Crudite. French bread. Roasted root vegetables. Even opened a bottle of wine.
Why?
Cause I love him.
And I like to cook for him.
And even though it might be inappropriate, I want to show him I love him, and think of him and care for him and want to cook for him.
Plus, I don't think he's going to get the wrong idea.
He said yesterday that he wanted a divorce. It's time.
It was hard to hear. To say the least.
My head said, good. That's done.
My heart was pounding on the door. Don't leave me here! I WANT my husband!!!
Sounds silly, but it's quite true, quite desperate, very sad and un-nerving.
Plus, full plate stuff -- dealing with financial stuff (YIKES) and a re-fi and being dropped from my health insurance and looking like I'm going to get totally screwed on that front and etc. etc.
I know during times like this it is easy breezy to fuck up...to put it lightly. When you're off balance and emotional and vulnerable, it is very challenging to keep your light lit and your senses intact and your radar up and God's voice loud and clear.
Tonight, on my way home from the movie a big SUV crossed all four lanes of traffic on Sepulveda in a U-turn, and stopped right in front of me sideways. I was going about 40 mph and I'm shaking just writing this but it's true. I hit the brakes and down-shifted, but I knew I was going to hit him. It was raining like crazy and there was a ton of water on the street. I skidded and tried not to swerve into other cars and laid on my horn so he would move but instead he rolled down his window and stuck his big shaved head out and shot the bird right at me. I came to a stop just as my car kissed his. I was right on him. He didn't seem to care about that. He yelled "fuck you" at me and pulled away.
That is NOT the light coming in. That's the dark.
I got home and my dh was here and we had a good and bad conversation. It's all about the duality. It is what it is.
I couldn't stop crying. Not weeping. Crying. Like the sky is still doing. I just couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't hear about how "screwed" we are financially. I couldn't hear the details of how he decided he was done with our marriage. I couldn't hear about how angry he was (duh) or how sorry he is (okay) or how he wants to see the kids as much as he can (good) and how he promises to take care of me (good luck). It's too much. Stop already! Finally he said: I know you want me to leave but I can't leave with you crying. So I breathed and I stopped and he left.
And I started again.
Then I took some Rescue Remedy and ate some food and watched some TV and came in here to write to you.
Weather forecast.
More rain.
Love you.

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

Demolition

This morning my dh called to talk to the kids. I was actually still asleep as I have this miserable cold and it was rainy and the house was warm...and you know how that goes.
So when we finally rolled out of bed, there was a message on the machine. "Daddy!" my daughter screamed when she heard his recorded voice. He said hi to her and told her how much he missed and loved her and then he said hello to our son. He told him how he missed him and loved him. And then he said goodbye and he'd see them soon.
I couldn't help but stand there a moment, looking at the machine, waiting for my shout out. My I love you. My I miss you. But it's not going to come. I know that. And it's as it should be.
But still.
But.
Still.
Still my love. Be still. Feel it. Losing love hurts. Loss hurts. Rejection. Passionate committed unrequited love. Hurts.
I'm not his number one. I'm not his girl. And I can't call him and tell him I love him. I can't tell him I miss him. I can't cook for him. Check in on him. Worry about him. Touch him. Hug him. Compliment him. Comfort him.
I can't rush in anymore. I can't do my thing.

I've had to, over the past 6 months, really pull back from my dh. He started to notice and called it "you don't like me anymore."
True.
But I love you. I will always love you.
I want to spike my coffee. Smoke cigarettes. Get a tattoo. Cut scars along my arms. Get skinny (if only). Die my hair blue.
Blog? Close enough (not really).
I will always love you.

But I stopped rushing in and fixing everything. I knew inside I had to let it go to pot. Because then he'd see. We'd see. I'd see.
I'd see I was really alone here all along. Once I stopped putting up the scaffolding, dry-walling the holes, touching up the paint, the whole damn house fell down.
I believe it usually falls to the woman to emotionally glue a relationship together but this is ridiculous.

I was at Home Depot over the weekend picking up fertilizer for the garden. On the way out, a little old man in the parking lot came over and gave me his business card. I looked down at the red, white and blue card in my hand.
"Demolition and Pick Up." Huh.
"Miss. You need any demo done? Any hauling?"
Hauling? Maybe. I got a garage full of boxes and shit. (Another story.)

But the demo I've taken care of.
Thanks anyway.

Sunday, January 20, 2008

Sittin' at the Dock of My Pain

Hello glorious and wretched readers...ha, ha.
Ha.
Nothing is really all that funny tonight I'm afraid. I'm lonely. There. I admit it. Give me a week without my man and I'm a wreck. This chic wasn't meant to be alone. I'm a Cancer, for God sakes!
I wonder how this happened. How did I end up alone? How the hell? What the--
And there is always something to remind me. I see "Flight of the Conchords" on my TiVO list and...well...
My dh used to do a killer impression of "Business Time." He could really channel Jemaine. And it made me laugh hard. Gotta delete that season pass. (Although I do have a very real crush on Bret so maybe it's worth saving...)
I think of all the movies we were going to watch together. The day trips we were going to take. The home improvements I will do on my own. Experiences I won't share with him.
I'm realizing in bits and pieces and fits and starts all the things that will remind me of him, of us. I'm reminded of how hard this is going to be.
And music! The friggin' music. For those who were at my wedding, you can only imagine what those two Stevie Wonder CDs are going to do to my heart.
What about Al Green?
Are you kidding? Have you lost your mind?
And Otis Redding? Otis! I'm a masochist (a.k.a. a writer) so I'm listening to the man right now and, well, okay, it hurts. It hurts like...like, love should hurt. If it's real. And true. And you thought it would be forever.
Tears burn, don't they?
Salt water in fresh wounds.
Okay, Otis. I don't care. Lay it on me. "These Arms of Mine" and "Pain in My Heart."
Even if you haven't recently lost a love, Otis will find some little hurt, some loss you thought you'd shelved long ago and expose it. So search him, download him, listen to him. We'll all practice a little Tonglen meditation together.
Oh man. Here we are at "I've Got Dreams to Remember." Oh brothers and sisters, feel it down deep. Lean into the sharp points if you dare.
We're all really alone in the end. And that's ironic to say considering the flood of friendship I have floated on this past week. This past year. My parents tonight said they take comfort knowing I'm surrounded by such a great community. Me too.
Sing it. It's true. And as my friend A.L. reminded me, "Singing is praying twice."
Finally...pour yourself some whiskey, add ice if you like...I do. I like Bushmills, if you're interested. I know it's Protestant whiskey but it kicks Jameson's ass!
Alright sorry about that. I'm drunk on Otis. If there weren't children in my house, I would go get some Bushmills but for now we'll have to pretend.
Okay.
So you get your glass of Bushmills with ice and put on "Fa-Fa-Fa-Fa-Fa (Sad Song)." Sway to it and shake it all over and sing along. Let the tears come down, it's okay. It's GOOD somehow. And sigh. And sing. And sway.
And then...and then...the pay-off. Are you with me? Yes. You blow your nose. Wipe your tears. Sigh some more. Notice you're out of whiskey-- And then you hear those familiar horns. This is Otis too?
Oh YEAH.
Yes, it is.
"Oh she may be weary. Young girls they do get weary. Wearing that same old (Target) dress. But when she gets weary. Try a little tenderness..." Hear that sax, people? That's your heart breaking.
That's Jon Cryer in "Pretty in Pink." That's "The Commitments."
It's all coming back to you now.
"It's not just sentimental no no no. She has her grief and care. But the soft words, they are spoke so gentle. It makes it easier, easier to bear."
Yes it certainly does.
I love you.
I thank you.

Friday, January 18, 2008

Gloriousness & Wretchedness

I don't know how I would have gotten through the pain and confusion of the last two years without this new thing I've discovered. It's called Buddhism.
(And this is exactly why I'm keeping this blog anon because my Catholic father would have a caniption right now.)
I am especially indebted to Pema Chodron whose books have given me immense strength and a brand new perspective.
She really encourages her readers to embrace the pain of being human. Bring on chaos and change she says; these are invaluable gifts of growth. She chooses titles for her books like: "Overcoming Difficulty" and "The Places That Scare You."
I'm reading "When Things Fall Apart" right now and she talks about not running from our pain but really feeling it. Feeling pain will help us understand our human nature, will help us have compassion for other people and hopefully allow us to become less attached to the way it's all going to turn out.
Man, that detachment is quite a good tool. Bless and release. Praise be.
Right now in my life I am practicing "leaning in to the sharp points." I tell you it sounds crazy but it really helps. It is practice at not being afraid. (And the Buddhists love that word "practice." Like yoga practice, it isn't something to finish or master. It's all just practicing, learning, rehearsing.) My favorite Pema quote at the moment is: "When faced with annihilation, you discover in yourself that which is indestructible."
Annihilation -- woo hoo! Bring it on! Indestructible? Praise be!
I just love her choice of words. It comforts me to relax a bit and say, Okay. I'm human. This is supposed to sting a little. Sometimes...quite a bit.
I went to Free Zuma Beach today (Free Therapy Beach I call it) and it was glorious. A January miracle. Sunny. Warm. No wind. No waves. The tide was way out and it created roving tide pools and little islands 20 feet from the normal shoreline. The kids and the adults had a great time.
Shortly after arriving, we saw a pod of gleaming dolphins passing by. The pod was huge, 20 dolphins easy. They were leaping and playing and we were clapping and jumping up and down (ok, I was jumping up and down). Suddenly a big wave started to build, the dolphins organized, the wave lifted from the sea, the sunlight gleamed through it and there were at least ten dolphins all surfing the same wave, silhouetted clear as day, beautiful against the yellow-blue water. Magnificent. Praise be!
One last quote of Pema's before I bid you goodnight. Thanks for reading. The comments have been so inspiring to read.
I love you.
And remember:
"Gloriousness and wretchedness need each other. One inspires us, the other softens us."

Thursday, January 17, 2008

Look at me! I'm Gesturing!

I was reminded today, looking at the beautiful engagement ring on my finger, that I have another beautiful (albeit smaller) diamond ring and matching wedding band in a small red velvet box in my top dresser drawer. It is from my "first marriage." I was married back (way back) in 1992 in Lancaster, PA. I knew I shouldn't have done it but well, I wasn't really in deep conversation with myself at the time. That's another story.
The point is, I would have never, ever, in a gazillion years, ever dreamt that I would someday have two boxes of discarded wedding rings in my drawer. It is a strange and humbling thing to think of yourself one way -- a faithful person, a Catholic, a daughter to be proud of, a loving and committed family woman -- and then to find out, right there in sparkling black and white, that you are not that way. Again...not good, not bad. But different. How can I say I am not the kind of person who gets divorced when I will be divorced not once, but twice? That says SOMETHING about me, doesn't it?
Maybe it just says that there are no "kinds" of people. Maybe it says that what is going on in my life is not neccesarily what is GOING ON in my life. What happens up top -- the moving of things and people around, the hand wringing, the shape shifting, the endless errand running -- is not all there is. Isn't in fact, really, all that important. What is more important is the life under my life. The deeper life. The endless life that resides only inside of me. (And therefore resides deep inside all of us as we are all one but let's not get into that quite yet...save something for tomorrow.)
I get to say who I am. Despite appearances.
That's something I think.

I was also going to say that last year during some particular marital craziness, I took off my wedding rings for a few days. I was hoping my dh would notice. I actually just laughed at myself because now it seems so ludicrous but at the time I felt quite serious. You see, try to follow me here...if I take off my rings, if I make this GESTURE, he will NOTICE with much ALARM and DO SOMETHING to FIX THE PROBLEM (I'm hearing Sandra Tsing Loh's voice in my head right now).
Let me just tell you, that if you are ever in a position where you find yourself making what you would call a GESTURE hoping someone else will NOTICE and then DO SOMETHING for you...you might be on the wrong track.
That's a little advice gift, from me to you. Something I've picked up.
The fact that the whole thing smells like so much drama is not a good sign either. That's just good old-fashioned passive-agressive desperation right there. We have to do the SOMETHINGS ourselves.
And as I've found out: no one is coming. No one is going to save me.
But me.
And that's pretty good. Cause let me tell ya, it's good to have a girl like me on your side.
:-)
Love you.

My Mind Field

So...four days ago my husband moved out of our house.
This is what I wanted. Freedom. A chance at joy. A time for growth and peace and healing. But this is not what I wanted. I want to be with him. I want to have a family. I want to have a future. I want a husband. I want HIM. I don't want to be alone. I want to be curled up in his arms and to feel safe and loved. I want to love him. I want to shower him with love. But the truth is that there is no such vessel for my love. It's a fantasy. I miss the best of my husband. I miss the house of cards which is the hope I have carried for over ten years. And I have watched that house crumble more times than I can count. So I'm a fool. So I'm in love. So I will always love him. And my love will float. With no place to land. With no chance of return. I know this but it still hurts. Man, hope is a gut buster.
I love my husband. Shit, I adore him. It seems impossible after everything. For I have hated him too. I have begged God to take the burden of living with him from me. And now that the burden is lifted I am floating somewhere between the fantasy, the dream of the life we were supposed to have together, and the memories of loss and despair and abandonment. It definitely sucks. I won't kid you.
But, I am proud of me. Of the me who found the strength and courage to face the life I really had. It was nothing like the fantasy. It was not a dream. It was mostly a nightmare. It was a one-sided marriage. I carried all of it.
Yesterday I was remembering (because memories can safely come to me now) a time maybe a year and a half ago when my dh was raging for days on end. I was scared. Sad. Angry. Confused. Depressed. There really isn't a word for it. I was frozen. Totally unsure of what to do, how to proceed, how to fix it. Helpless times a hundred. Anyway.
After the kids were asleep, my dh would rage for hours and then completely retreat and I would be left holding the emotional baggage. I couldn't sleep. I would try to sleep on the couch. Sleeping in our bed was an impossible thought. I'd lie on couch wondering what am I doing here? WHAT AM I DOING HERE? On this couch. In this marriage. In this life. Hard to sleep. Go figure.
I'd grab my grandmother's rosary and just pray. And try to pray a prayer that was empowering. I knew I couldn't just pray to be saved anymore. The saving wasn't coming. A miracle was not going to drop in my lap. Jesus wasn't going to appear like a mirage in front of me and pat my hand and magically change my husband and my marriage and my life. But how could I do it? I couldn't change him. I had grown to know that all too well. My love wasn't enough for both of us. And my past, my babyhood abandonment, had left me with easy, victim-y excuses for my life during a dismal, dark night: I was un-loveable. There was something wrong with me. No one cared. No one loved me. No one could save me. NO ONE WAS COMING!
So I did small things. This was what I remembered. This is what I had pushed back. But I can tell you now.
I could only sleep for short spells on the couch. I had to get in my bed, despite the fact that my raging adored husband's peaceful snoring was like a slap in the face. I needed to sleep in my soft bed with my special pillow and my white noise humming next to me. I had to sleep. I had children to care for. So I wrote myself notes. Simple notes on small squares of white scrap paper, folded and tucked under my pillow. The notes sometimes said: "You'll be ok. This too shall pass. Tomorrow is coming. The sun will rise on you."
Sometimes they were forceful: "You can get divorced. Fuck him. Hold on. This is your life. You get to decide."
But most often they said this: "You are loved. I love you. I love you Erin. I see you. I hear you. You're wonderful. You're loved. I love you."
I'd sleep with them under my pillow, along with my grandmother's rosary, hoping their strength would imbue my sleeping mind, my dreams. If I woke during the dark, troubled night my hand would find the note's soft crease and I would remember: I'm here. And I loved me. And that was enough to make it through the night.
Turns out though, that's enough for always. For all nights. That's all there is.
The next morning, I'd hastily jump out of bed and throw these notes away before the bed got made. I didn't want my dh to see them. I don't know why. I'll tackle that next time. This is enough for now.
It is what it is.
No judgement. No good. No bad. It's way too complicated for that.
Or is it just too simple for that?
Is it just life? Just humanity. Just breathing. Just loving. Just living.
Thank you Jesus. Cause you were there.
I know.
Cause I'm here.
Here I am.

I love you.