I Had a Great Week!

Hi there. My health coach suggested I share this...she is the best cheerleader! I'm feeling great, and pretty! I struggled a little last night because I craved cookie dough. My shameful, go to craving that usually hits me once a month with my hormone levels. I resisted and drank lots of water and read a good book. Distracted myself. My weigh in was great! I've lost ten pounds. My clothes are a bit looser and I have hipbones!

It's Time To Make A Huge Change

I need to move. I need to get off my ass and stop avoiding selling this house with Ex. I need to stop fearing the pain in the ass of dealing with him (again) and get together to put the house on the market.

I want to be with Partner all the time.

I'm scared because it's a big change, and so many things can go wrong or change in a short period of time.

I will also probably need to leave the job I love because where I want to live is too far to commute for a sane person.

Let me clarify:

Every friend I have in this area where I live works in my office. If I move, I won't see them every workday anymore. I love the feeling I get of having helped people we serve at the end of the day. My job is hard (emotionally) but easy to do. (I can do admin work with my eyes closed.) I could do without the constant battle of dealing with emotionally distraught people when I am just trying to get out of bed in the morning to deal with my own, albeit mostly happy, life. I could do with working in a different field. I've been told (*eyes Partner*) that I don't make very much money, but it's more money than I've ever made and I can pay my bills. I have benefits and a 401K.

AND:

I have no future or the hope of any kind of cost of living increase or promotion. There's no money in working for a nonprofit and nowhere to go UP. (Not that I want to. I'm happy working for someone I like.) It takes me 30-45 minutes to get to and from this job that is only 15-20 mins from my house. I am constantly at risk of someone going berserk, and something stressful or potentially dangerous happening (though the odds are low), or someone triggering me and making me cry.

It happens

The point is, it's time to move on. To start the new life I want, and that means a new house where Partner Kids, and Karma Kids and I can be together, and a new job.

I'll still need to drive a ways to get the kids to school, but I have to do what I have to do. I will figure out how to make it work.

I know that if I can leave an abusive marriage and coparent with my abuser, I'm brave enough to sell a house with him and change my job. It will be one less thing that connects me to him.

Ack. Scary!

Jesus...whew. *deep breath*

Let's do this.

It Got Ahold Of Me Again

Couldn't get myself to work today. I decided not to go because I couldn't keep my eyes open long enough to get up. Kept falling asleep. Don't feel good. Sneezing and coughing and stuffy nose. I could have gone to work but headache and depression bogging me down too. I rarely stay home from work so I'm fighting guilt. I colored my hair again last night and am second guessing it, not being nice to myself. I'm going to be ok, I just need to sit here I guess and contemplate all these things and whether or not I should double my antidepressant to where doc said I should be. I'm only taking half of what was prescribed because that seems to work. I've been drinking alone lately too and need to think about why and stop again. I know it's self medicating and I need to cook something good for me and start exercising regularly again. I know how to take care of myself I've just not been doing it very well lately. I'll give myself today to be in a slump and then pull myself together tomorrow and go to work.

It's funny. I have all the sympathy in the world for people who suffer from depression, but when it's me I give myself time limits and rules.

Not so funny, actually, but interesting.

I Now Owe The IRS $2,500 Because Ex Fucked Up His W-2

(What I say to myself when I start to worry about other people's stuff too much -
Alternative title to this pic is 'Snowy Jones' Exorcism Wasn't Going Smoothly')

 
The title says it all.

Outside the nut shell:

Ex and I have written in the divorce settlement that we would file joint taxes last year. We verbally agreed that I would take care of the taxes and when I needed his W-2 and other papers, he ignored me, and ignored me, and ignored me, so I went ahead and filed as head of household because I was pissed (and more than a little stressed, anxiety ridden, and confused about what the hell was actually in our divorce settlement...sue me) and received about $300 back. I claimed the entirety of the house credit because I was living there and paying the mortgage.

Well, he wasn't too pleased about that. Especially when he discovered that he owed $3,000. He spend the next year, off and on, trying to talk me into amending my taxes to jointly file the tax return and I ignored him until he threatened me Monday night.

This pissed me off for a number of reasons:

1 - I wanted to get it done and to the IRS before the deadline and he ignored me.

2- He sent me multiple emails in a 48 hour period about it with emotional threats and claiming he's been DOING THE RIGHT THING for the last 15 months, including moving out of the house so I could live in HIS HOUSE with cheaper rent (mortgage) than he is now paying.

3 - The night he sent the email that broke the camel's back, I was three drinks into a comfy little evening I had planned for myself to make some soup and watch Netflix alone. Precious alone time to recharge my batteries.

I lost my shit.

Whilst three sheets to the wind (don't judge - I am an adult and was alone that evening - and not depressed - Woo!) I prepared a fiery, cuss word filled email on my phone that I was busily editing (even whilst loopy I am a stickler to say precisely what I want to say in exactly the correct way to express myself accurately) when it disappeared.

...

CRAP!!!

Did I send it unfinished? No. Did it disappear off the face of the CLOUD? Yes.

FUCKERY!!

I sighed heavily, very frustrated, and started to write another response, this time wisely choosing my less tipsy response in a kinder way, realizing that sending those kinds of emails to Ex has never, ever benefited me or anyone else. I edited carefully and sent it calmly.

Never heard back.

Holy crap. Did he hear me and I stopped him in his tracks? Did he not see it yet? Either way, I went to bed anxiety ridden awaiting the fateful *scary breath sounds* that would alert me that he had responded.

Nothing at all.

The next day at work, clearheaded, I contacted my accountant and set into motion the process of amending my taxes. She did it, BAM, in less than 24 hours. Done, and awaiting his signature. This was big considering I've spent the last 20 years waiting for him to do our taxes and him filing extensions. (Which he also did again last year.)

You may know about how willing he is to sign things by some of my past posts, so I am trying to breathe deeply and be patient. Remember, his signing these papers makes him liable for only half of what he owes filing by himself so it's in his best interest. I am hoping to pick up the paperwork when I go by today to pick up Son for some mother-son bonding time tonight.

Below I have copied and pasted the emails. Guess what? The email didn't disappear. It went into the DRAFT folder I can't access through my phone.

Thank the tiny baby jesus that I didn't send it.

Just goes to show you what a bad combination booze, anger, and nasty emails from Ex are for me. And probably everyone.

Incidentally, he apologized for the nasty emails. I think it was a combination of my reminding him about what THE RIGHT THING actually is, and the fact that he thought I received $3,000 FROM the IRS last year that he OWED because I didn't file jointly with him. Welp. That's what you get when you don't ask.

ASS.

Anyhoo, the emails:

The One I Sent:

"Brace yourself. I'm about to say some things that will make you upset.

Do not threaten me with court. Never threaten me again. Never, ever again talk to me about your version of the right thing. I know things about you that would horrify everyone who thinks you're an upstanding man and citizen. The right thing my ass. I know a lot of things about you that other people don't. So think back to all those things I know about you and reconsider the way you speak to me from now on. No one ever made me feel as small and ashamed of myself and belittled as I did in what you talked me into doing for you in the twenty years you should have been treating me like a precious, loved woman deserving of respect.

Now. I'll discuss taxes with you when I'm good and fucking ready to do it and not because you want to fill your wallet with money I don't have and could spend on your children.

You have no hold over me anymore, so if you want something from me you will ask nicely without trying to manipulate my emotions and praising your Perfect Ex Husband act.

If you truly want to get along with me and show the kids how you should treat their mother, treat me the same way when they're not listening. You can't be my friend if you smile in my face when we see each other when other people are looking then make threats and try to manipulate my emotions when they're not.

Don't talk to me about what's right."

The Email I Didn't Send:

"I'm tired of your Perfect Ex Husband bullying and posturing. I'm tired of you pretending to want to be friends and that everything is ok then sending me passive aggressive bullying emails so that you can continue to have some semblance of control over me and to squeeze every last drop of blood out of every penny you can get your hands on. You make more than me. You claim to be doing the right thing and that you're doing it for the kids, but really you're trying to scare me into giving you money I don't have, money that I could use to spend on your children, trying to get me to comply by threatening me with taking me to court. I've offered to compensate you for the money that we verbally agreed on. I'm no longer interested in your self aggrandizing claims to be doing the right thing. Who is this right thing for? Who does it benefit? You. Just like it always has. Well I hope that you and your money will be very happy together. You're forgetting that I also own the house. The paltry money you pay me is barely grocery money for your children's food when they're here. I work for a non profit with no hope of a raise or moving up. Never again mention to me that you're doing the right thing. Because the right thing would have been to refrain from coercing your wife into sex acts she didn't want to do with drunk men. That is sexual abuse. The right thing would have been to let your wife show you love and sexual attention without requiring she act and talk like a whore. The right thing would have been going to bed with her at night instead of staying up all night looking at porn on the computer, making me feel unwanted and unloved. The right thing would have been showing your children how a woman should be treated instead of treating her like a second class citizen who didn't have a mind of her own or any personal freedom. The right thing would have been to refrain from spitting food onto your plate with disgust in front of your children after your wife worked eight hours then came home and cooked for you. That is emotional abuse. The right thing would have been to not criticize your wife for her weight, taste in clothes, her friends, how she folded laundry, how she loaded the dishwasher, the jokes she thought were funny, and what she wanted to eat just to list a few of the things that made me feel so very small and insignificant that I now have anxiety attacks when you send me a text or an email. The right thing would have been to ask me if I was ok instead of accusing me of acting when I was doubled over on the bed with excruciating pain from a gallbladder attack. The right thing would not have been so fucking drunk that you knocked your goddamned front tooth out falling on a chair, then when I needed to have a tooth I had to get a fucking bridge because it was too expensive for my mouth. I hope you're enjoying your expensive implant. The right thing would have been to treat me with tenderness and kindness instead of constantly trying to control and manipulate every micromanaged aspect of our life into what you thought it should be. The right way. The only way. The right thing would have been to show your son how to be a man without verbally abusing me for twenty years. So don't you dare, ever fucking talk to me about what the right thing is. Ever. Again. You'll get your godforsaken fucking money, and you'll also get what you deserve for every little thing you put out into the universe. And I'll get out from under this fucking albatross of a house you claim to have so generously allowed me to stay in when it's a fucking ball and chain prison you stick me with that connects me to you. Don't you ever threaten me again. Think about what your family would say if they knew all the things about you that I do. I only hope that you treat our daughter better than you treated me so she has the self respect to find someone who treats her better than you did me. Leave me the fuck alone to live my life in peace with people that know something about respect, kindness and love."

(remember I was tiddly)

As I said before, thank the tiny baby jesus vishnu and everyone else who might be listening to my karma that

I didn't send this email. And I never will. I would never say horrible things to his family. What an awful person I would be. (Just anonymously via the internet - hope it doesn't count against my karma.)

Note to self: Along with my monthly alert sent to myself via my iPeriod app that reminds me about when my period is coming that says, "Do not engage ex or listen to anxiety ridden thoughts.", I will add, "Do not drink and respond to any email or text or person until sober again."

Incidentally, as I mentioned in the title, Ex screwed up his W-2 and will owe again this year. But this year it's Not Mine.

Thanks for listening.

"Unmarried to each other"

I am reading a wonderful book called, "Unmarried to Each Other: The Essential Guide to Living Together as an Unmarried Couple", by Dorian Solot and Marshall Miller.

According to the cohabitation types in the book, Partner and I are a mix of the "Weekend Cohabitation" type (we spend weekends together, when it works out with our kid schedules, then go home to work), "Across Town Cohabitation" (we don't live together, but our relationship has the kind of personal meaning and commitment most people expect from partners who share a living space), and with "Mergers and Acquisitions Cohabitation" thrown in, in that between us we have four children, three dogs, two houses, three cars, one rabbit, one guinea pig, one rat, and two Exes. 

We hope to be able to figure out how to live together sometime in the future in a way that works for everyone...meaning how the hell am I going to sell my half of my house to Ex and move an hour away when my job is already 30 minutes the other direction, and Kids go to school 45 minutes in yet another direction? With 6 years of school left until they are both 18?

Poor Partner drives us everywhere when we're together because I spend the rest of my life driving for hours.

How can we possibly make this happen? Patience, love, hard work, and faith. And fantasies of spending every night cuddled up next to Partner, and every day spent continually in route somewhere or at work.

Sigh.

"On Labeling Women Crazy"

Someday, hopefully, I can be the cat.

A friend of mine posted this article, and it hit a nerve because I read it some time ago when I was going through a similar situation with Ex. I wrote about it here. The difference, I explained to my friend, was that, "he said he loved me, and he was occasionally but rarely there. After ten years I was done. It became my fault in the eyes of everyone, except the few I shared with, after all. It's a powerful article.", "Also, I should add, there was more going on and he never said he was leaving. He expected our lives to just continue that way indefinitely."

Sharing with her triggered me into coming here and reading some of my past posts. I mentioned to her that, "This article pretty much sums up why I'm divorced.", and sent her a link to this blog, which terrifies me. It always does when I "come out" to someone who knew me back then because this blog is the essence of my anger and pain when I was getting divorced. It doesn't matter how strongly I felt when I was writing in anger or tears, it's still terrifying to tell someone about it. It's raw, and it's there, and it's real. More ME than anything I ever said out loud, although now it's a past me, and I'm moving on in a healthy way.

I loved her, and I still do, though I haven't seen her in a very long time, and I worry how she will react to reading all this. As I've said before, the only thing I can control is how I feel and how I react.

 
This blog is creeping out into the world more and more as I reveal it to people I knew then, and Ex and I are tentatively moving toward friendship as time passes so I'd like him to never see this - though having it here, there is always a chance that he will. 

If he does, he does. 

I am able to see glimpses of the man I liked and cared for, and it makes it easier to make peace, forgive, and move on.

My Cinderella Complex

Painting by Lado Tevdoradze

Even though I grew up with The Cinderella Complex on my mother's bookshelf, I still thought marriage was the goal. The answer to being and feeling secure and loved. I have since learned that is not true. I'm still struggling a bit sometimes with that thought process, particularly when I'm feeling insecure, and am trying like hell to cut that cord and continue to reshape what relationships are to me. I like this article because it showed me yet another facet of why my marriage didn't work. (I put Ex and the kids first. Ex put himself first.) But it also reminded me that this works for any relationship that is important and means a lot to me. What I got out of it was this: I am sometimes afraid of not knowing what my future will look like. It's hard for me to feel out of control, though I know the only thing I have control of is how I feel and how I respond. I'm going to try to focus on changing the way I think about patriarchal "rules" and to realize that Partner wants me to be in his life for the rest of ours, no matter how it looks. We get to make our own rules.

Dear Asshole,

I wrote this today, while I was getting ready for work. It happened last Saturday at an event with friends where I normally feel very safe, due to the environment filled with burners. Just like anywhere else, there are assholes. Forevermore referred to as THE ASSHOLE, I have changed his name in the spirit of privacy.

"Hey THE ASSHOLE. Do you remember grabbing my ass while I was watching (my bf run his super fun game that folks love) at (event)? I do. I remember being shocked. I remember feeling violated. I remember thinking about it last night as I went to sleep because I wish I hadn't smiled at you when you did it. I remember wishing I'd punched you in the face, though I know I could never do that. Just like I can't say this to your face. Just like I couldn't not smile at you. Why I'm a victim. I'm going to try really hard to forgive you and I'll tell you why: Because you don't know that I am an abuse survivor. You don't know that I just finalized a painful divorce from my abuser. You don't know that I have two teen aged kids who I'm trying to co-parent with my abuser, and in particular a teenage daughter who I hope and wish and pray does not become a victim like me. You don't know that I work for a mental health recovery center with people who are also survivors of abuse and the results of it, among other painful mental health issues, to try to give back to all the people who have helped me in my recovery over the years. I'm going to try really hard to forgive you because somewhere in your brain you thought it was ok to put your hands on me, and I thought I'd help by letting you know that it is never, ever ok to touch anyone without consent. And that silence is not consent. I apologize for not being brave enough to say this to your face, but just typing it to you has helped me kick start the painful process of letting the abuse of my past go, again, along with the other painful memories I have. I wish you well in your recovery."

I froze when he touched me. One of my best friends, and a coworker, pointed out to me that freezing is "flight" in the fight or flight reaction.

When I was in 9th grade, a boy grabbed my ass in the hallway at school. I spun around and screamed at him at the top of my lungs.

What happened to me between there and here? Where is that strong, young girl who was able to react instantly to that violation? What the fuck?

I need to find her.

I'm afraid of what THE ASSHOLE's response is going to be. I'm afraid of what will happen in response. I'm making up stuff to worry about, I know. Probably nothing will happen but thank the tiny baby jesus I've gotten it off my chest.

Pity Party FFS

(PS: Burning Man was enlightening, as usual, and great! I wanted to put that first so I didn't interfere with the pity party below.)

I’ve been depressed about some issues with Son. He’s having a tough time in school which is pretty typical for this time of year, but he’s also got some issues going on, including intimidating me and Daughter when he doesn’t get what he wants, that makes his therapist think he may be developmentally delayed. He’s due for his psych test through the school district, and he’s scheduled. So, as a result I’ve been depressed and have gained weight from emotional eating again, and am considering going back on the anti-depressants my doc put me on after the divorce. I don’t know. Maybe I should try to start exercising again first to see if that helps, or should I do both? There is a really mean voice in my head that tells me taking antidepressants is giving in. How fucked up is that?? I’m also premenstrual, but I was feeling depressed before that. It’s my voice again coming up with reasons why I shouldn’t take them and take care of myself. I’m having trouble at work too, I’m bored and annoyed, and I know that much of it is that there is so much crap in my head I don’t want anyone else’s. It’s too hard to deal with my own lately. The other thing is that antidepressants aren’t in my budget. More stupid voice.

Thanks for listening.

The report? OH! That.

Well, I was overdrawn on my account because the child support check came a week late due to, apparently, the “system being down”. (Ex's HR dept takes it from his paycheck, sends it to the child support people, who then send a check to me, that I’ve been unsuccessfully trying to get to auto deposit in my new account at for a month.) So, lesson learned: Do not budget depending on that check. CHECK. (fuckers)

I have a GIANT credit card debt that I have transferred all of the money to, with the lowest interest rate. Let’s just say I’m at the limit. I haven’t had credit card debt in 20 years. I attribute it to one income, panicky charges early in my separation process thinking I would pay them off as I go, and charges where I HAD to use it because I was learning to budget again and needed gas or food, along with impulse buys. Aside from the fuckery with my child support check this last week, I’ve been doing pretty well. I don’t get my nails done anymore, don’t get my hair colored anymore, I don’t fill my pantry and fridge with food, I just buy as I need it. I don’t shop at malls or department stores anymore, or expensive grocery stores. I don’t use the organic veggie delivery anymore. Basically, I use my money for Netflix, pets, gas, food, and an occasional kid need or treat. Or an occasional treat for myself and Partner when I can, much cheaper than the treats I used to buy myself. And the tail end of my lawyer bill. Oh, and yesterday I lowered my family plan phone payment, and I'm cutting the cable (I don't watch it) in November when the contract is up.

It was hard to get to the point where I know I don’t need very much to be happy. Money ain’t making me happy. I’m looking to my family and Partner and our kids for happy, as well as burning man, and starting to crochet and sew again. Reading novels again. Watching the movies I want to see when I’m alone. Stopping everything I’m doing and looking at and sitting next to Kids, Partner and his Kids, and my friends, giving them my full attention when they’re with me. Spending time with the dogs cuddling (except this week because I’m hormonal and that’s the only time they irritate me. This may be why I engaged Ex in a discussion when I know better. I’ve put a note on my calendar for next month about my period, with the note: DO NOT ENGAGE EX.)

I may outsmart myself.

Also, I scheduled a week of appointments at work this week when the PA was out of town. They told me about it in May, in an email. Seriously, please don’t depend on me to do anything when I’m having a midlife crisis. Last May…never mind. You all know.

The battery powered fan I ordered for our bm (for future reference: bm means Burning Man, not poop) tent was delivered yesterday, then promptly stolen from the front desk area at work (more fuckers - explainable since I work in the mental health industry) before it got to me.

Also, Ex is a nincompoop as I’ve been getting calls from the kids saying they don’t have lunch at school, or they’re going to be kicked out by Friday if they don’t get their shot records to the nurse. I asked Ex if the school knows Son has a learning disability and did they put him in special education for his core classes. His response? “I have no idea.” Stuff I’ve been scrambling to take care of because I left everything school related up to him to organized for the first time in the children’s lives. And this year they are both in brand new schools. It’s made me feel angry and resentful, and melancholy about not being there to help them on the big first day of school Monday. When I tried to, gently and kindly, talk to Ex about being sensitive to Son and take care of things like I would try to do with Kids (I didn’t say it that way. That would be just asking for trouble.) he got offended and told me I never had a father figure so don’t accuse him of being a bad father, and that if we wanted to be friends I needed to back off because he’s a good dad and I should know that. I reminded him that Son has a learning disability and a mental health diagnosis and that we need to take care in how we talk to him and guide him, just as the counselors have told us since Son was 6. Ex accused me of “putting labels” on Son and that he, Ex, doesn’t do that. 

Blah-de-blah-de-blah. Same 'ole shite.

Ex got a son with special needs instead of the son that he wanted, and I think he’s still in denial. The same argument we’ve been having for 15 years. I know better than to argue with him, it kills me that I can’t protect them from him and really, I may not need to. I just hope he’s a better father now than he was when we were married.

Ex has been peppering me with texts, day and night, all week, with everything from how I should run my house to the better benefit of Kids this school year to where I should drop Son off when I take him to school next week because it’s the best option. He’s driving me up the fucking wall.

But mixed in have been lovely moments like the bat walk tour I went on with Partner, his Daughter, and Son, Monday night, and heart-melting moments when they told me they see me as their second mom. Also, seeing a girlfriend briefly last night when I went over to load my bm stuff into another friend's truck, and Kids calling me randomly last night at 10:30pm to ask me what my middle name was (apparently there was some debate) and making me laugh.

So it hasn’t been a total loss, just a mix. And I handled it all well, mixed with expletives, and occasional grumpy behavior. I am still happy. (Plus the check came yesterday just in time for my needed tank of gas, and my new checking account mobile deposits it instantly, unlike the old one - that rhymes with Bells Dargo - who holds it for 2 days. Fuckers.)

Hey, guess what? I talked with my doctor, and she agreed that it’s ok for me to not refill my Prozac, and that my dose was so low I don’t need to titrate down. My last pill will be taken next Tuesday night…

I leave for bm a week from Sunday. I think vacation with friends and the love of my life is a good idea right after stopping an antidepressant, so that works out well.

Thanks for reading.

Changing My Thoughts

I have been busting my behind to change my negative thoughts, and I think I'm doing a great job. I've been practising yoga again and trying to meditate, though the meditation bit has been really difficult. It's hard enough to quiet my mind, but do you know how hard it is to meditate when you've got one dog trying to lick your face, another putting his paw on you so you'll pet him, and a rabbit sitting on your belly? Ayup. Not easy. I'll keep at it. I'm experimenting with ways to sit or lay so I don't get too cold or my leg falls asleep.

It's very sweet that my mother and Partner know that when I spend long periods of time alone, that my thoughts have turned ugly and mean, and I can be extremely unkind to myself. Partner has been away with his kids for over a week, and it's making me a little nutty. I miss him being around and realize that I have become so comfortable with him (which is so great!) that I've started to take him for granted. Not in negative ways, but in my head. 

Tell the people you care about that you love them. Hug them. Love up on them. Make sure they know. Everything can change in a heartbeat.

Anyhoo, mom and Partner have asked me here and there how I'm doing when they know I'm alone. It is so thoughtful and caring it makes me tear up. 

I am blessed.

I am being 99% kind to myself...nobody is perfect. 

On Getting Married or The Wedding I Didn't Want or Labels or Whackadoo Tangent Post

(This is my assumed response from you, reading this whackadoo post.)

An acquaintance just announced on Facebook that she is engaged to be married, and has asked for advice. I am excited for her and gave her some, even though she pointed her request at the married ladies. Not thinking, I posted my advice before remembering that I'm newly divorced. 

Force of habit, I guess. 

My identity is still sorting itself out, apparently, even though I feel clear on who and where and what I am...or maybe I'm blurred, which is where I really prefer to be. Blurry feels comfortable. 

That way, I can be whatever I want.

The advice I gave her was this:

"Oh my goodness. First, congratulations! Next, I was anxious too. I had a lot of pressure as well, and caved and didn't really have the event I truly wanted (but that was the nature of my personality and relationships, and not yours). It's seen as a big deal by lots of people, but is your party. You can go to the courthouse or have eleventy-billion people. Your choice. My challenges were my intractable fiance and my pushy mil. I had twice as many people as I wanted and lots of details that I didn't want as well. I had a pushy bridesmaid too, who influenced my choices. If I had to do it all over, I'd have about 20 people. Close family and friends, an oak tree, a simple, matching ring, a red dress, and my guy. That's it. The bottom line is, make it what you want. If you want nothing, just sign the paper. If you want a big deal, make a big deal!", and then added, "Oop! Also, remember that it doesn't matter how it goes: If you end up married, it went well! (Also, I'm newly divorced but I still put my input here.)"

Which led me to thinking about how I used to feel more comfortable with labels and a slots to fit into:

Married, mother, poly, open marriage, codependent, needy, patient, daughter, sister, granddaughter, daughter in law, sister in law, woman, wife, lover, highlighted blond, curvy, big boobed, borderline overweight, wrinkling, girly, self medicating, spacey, kind, helpful, doormat, cousin, stretch marks, high maintenance, conservatively-classically dressed, private, introverted, shy, chapstick obsessed, lazy...

I could keep going on but I just got bored of it.

The point is, I put all these labels on myself (with the help of society and Ex and the other unhelpful people in my life) and fit myself into them one way or another. 

And before I make my next point, let me say that I hate it when people get all lathered up about how labels ruin us and everything and society, though I use them on myself...

I met a woman who, when I asked if she was a vegetarian (we were eating together in a restaurant with some kids and friends), replied that she didn't like labels, that she ate what she was comfortable putting in her body, and then when she realized she had just drunk cold water, that she hadn't drunk cold water for years, then she wondered out loud what it would do to her body.

...

Holy crap.

I can only say here that I hope the look on my face in response didn't match my thoughts, which can be described in a typed action: 

*blink*     or 

O_o         or  

WTF??

Did I make my point? I'm laughing at myself and my tangents now. 

Labels have a place if you are comfortable with them. I've found recently that I'm not comfortable anymore in the labels I wrapped around myself like a shield. In my redefinition I have chosen some new labels for myself (paradoxically) and if I think about them they are:

Divorced, earth mother, in a relationship, open minded, non-judgemental, daughter, sister, woman, Partner, sensitive, patient, lover, blond going gray, beautiful, curvy, self accepting, mostly vegetarian, kind, helpful, cousin, niece, curly haired, natural, chapstick obsessed, burner, organic, re-purposing, recycling...and I got bored again of thinking of things to describe myself but I sound sort of like a hippy - which is where I have leaned my whole life but didn't feel comfortable in THAT label either.

Back to the Facebook response post I started with. I am sorting out my new life and my new identity, and am having a great time doing it, even though it sometimes feels scary as hell. I feel free and totally me for the first time, probably, in my entire life. I owe it to myself, my children, the lessons I've learned, turning 45 (which I did last weekend), and Partner and our blended family, without whom all of this would have happened very differently, but nonetheless it would have happened.

I am brave, I am strong, I am beautiful, and I am loved.

The real point is now I'm ME, goddammit.

Thank you Universe, for all of it.

YEAH.

(There you have it.)

Goddamned Help

My friend is in a wheelchair. I can't tell you how hard I tried not to feel that way, but she wigged me out for a very long time.

She's taught me many lessons about help, inadvertently.

She came to burning man last year and I got to know her. We have a mutual group of friends and I see her at a big event every summer and during the holidays, and I talk to her on Facebook sometimes.

Last spring she and a lover of hers camped at Partner's house as they passed through. She was born with twisted hands and I don't think I've ever seen her feet but, now that I think about it, I think I remember that she doesn't have feet. Her power chair is pretty quick and she has a service dog who is sweet as pie, he is. And huge.

Anyway, she asked me for help whenever I saw her and I think it's because she saw me noticing her. She asks for help a lot (Actually I don't know if that's true. To me it looks like a lot but I'm impaired about help. Plus, we usually see each other at events where she/people need/give help.) and chatted with me once about how hard that used to be for her. 

'That' being asking for help. I can relate.

The guys lift her wheelchair in and out of cars for her or over a threshold, and occasionally she'll ask for a ride to an event. They steady her while she powers up plywood homemade ramps into houses. At burning man last year she asked me to help her get the homemade shower ready for her and to help her with some of her costumes. She has trouble with zippers. Her dog followed another male dog around at the summer event, clearly smitten. I've seen Partner lift her onto couches from her chair. She told me he's one of the few she trusts to do that because she knows he won't drop her. And that he's strong enough. I fell in love with him, harder, last summer. I also watched, horrified, as he gave her unholy crap about something. I held my breath, afraid to laugh, until I saw her bust into guffaws. My relief was palpable. I don't know why I feared she would be immune or offended by his snark and sarcasm. I asked him about it later. He basically said that he didn't care if she was in a wheelchair, she was going to get the same heckling everyone else did. Why should he be careful? It made me pause.

Why indeed?

Now whenever I see her I go up and say hello. I sit down next to her and pet her dog and ask how she is. I ask if I can help her and 9 times out of ten she accepts my help and thanks me.

I believe she's a public speaker and advocate. I need to ask her about that because I'm curious.

She's funny. She's smart and she's beautiful. She's my friend.

My mom, talking to me about a man she saw refusing wheelchair help, got me thinking about my friend. Sometimes we need help and when you let people help you, your life is easier.

Partner and my friend have taught me a lot about asking for and accepting help. I still get squicky when Partner leaps out of my bed on a Saturday morning and mows my lawn. Last weekend he vacuumed my house better than I've ever done it, while I scrubbed the bathrooms. The squick time is fleeting now because at one point he questioned me about it. He likes to help. He wants to help. He loves me and wants to do things for me. I feel the same way about helping him so I've relaxed a lot.

Am I so fucking undeserving of help or did I get used to Ex refusing to help me? I believe I already had the proud disposition, and that made the difficult interactions in my marriage harder.

Easier Said Than Done, But I'm Trying!

Tips for a Stunning Life 

1. Take a 10-30 minute walk every day & while you walk, SMILE. It is the ultimate antidepressant. 

2. Sit in silence for at least 10 minutes each day. 

3. When you wake up in the morning ask the universe's guidance. 

4. Eat more foods that grow on trees and plants and eat less food that is manufactured in plants. 

5. Drink green tea and plenty of water. Eat blueberries, broccoli, and almonds. 

6. Try to make at least three people smile each day. 

7. Don’t waste your precious energy on gossip, energy vampires, issues of the past, negative thoughts or things you cannot control. Instead invest your energy in the positive present moment. 

8. Eat breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince, and dinner like a college kid with a maxed out charge card. 

9. Life isn’t fair, but it’s still good. 

10. Life is too short to waste time hating anyone. Forgive them for everything.

11. Don’t take yourself so seriously. No one else does. 

12. You don’t have to win every argument. Agree to disagree. 

13. Make peace with your past so it won’t spoil the present. 

14. Don’t compare your life to others. You have no idea what their journey is all about. 

15. No one is in charge of your happiness except you. 

16. Frame every so-called disaster with these words: ‘In five years, will this matter?’ 

17. Help the needy, be generous, be a ‘Giver’ not a ‘Taker’.

18. What other people think of you is none of your business. 

19. Time heals everything. 

20. However good or bad a situation is, it will change. 

21. Your job won’t take care of you when you are sick. Your friends will. Stay in touch. 

22. Envy is a waste of time. You already have all you need. 

23. Each night before you go to bed be thankful for what you accomplished.

24. Remember that you are blessed and try not to be stressed.

12 Step Program For My Bullshit

My friend yelled at me for being mean to myself the other night. I love her. She and I have similar Ex stories to swap.

It's sad when I need to work on boundaries with MYSELF.

Hi, my name is Bettye and I am emotionally abusive to myself.


Self,

Shut the hell up.

Sincerely,
Me.


I need to remember this.

Wildlife In My Head

From tut.com in my email this morning:

"Do you know what happens, (name), to wildlife when left alone from intellectual minds? It thrives, because thriving is its default setting. Just look at a forest.

And do you know what happens to wildlife when given just a little direction by intellectual minds? It still thrives, because thriving is its default setting. Just look at a rose garden.

And do you know what happens to wildlife when there is too much thinking? Yeah, what wildlife?

Wild thing,
The Universe"

I was alone last night and broke my new rule of no more negative thoughts. I got myself really worked up and afraid, then started texting my mother and Partner. I really need to learn how to be alone without beating myself up.

Jeez.

I was like a punching bag for that bitch in my head.

Wth? Why are we so mean to ourselves?.

Silly Narcissists!

I hope you're having a wonderful weekend!

Are You A Normal?

I Understand How You Feel

I hope you're enjoying your weekend!