We were exhausted when we got home. Dad was waiting for me. He had had trouble sleeping and had worried about our court appearance all day long. The relief caregiver had been with him because Carmi had gone to court. It was one of the highlights of my day to be able to tell him we don't have to worry about being removed from the house or having Bill in our lives anymore. He face looked so relaxed and reassured. I told him that his safety had been a big consideration in the judge's decision.
Did we celebrate with a big dinner? I just can't remember. We felt vindicated but not elated. Nobody wins in a divorce.
There wasn't enough stress-relief in our evening. The next day we would have to find something to do to de-stress from our big day in court.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Day in Court
The thought of going to court again was extremely unpleasant. If the estranged husband wanted this divorce to start out with a domestic violence charge, the tables had been turned and I wanted to make it stick. I really didn't want to go back to court to try to get an extension on the TRO but it was so nice not having to worry about the ex and his shenanigans. Everyone, I mean EVERYONE, was concerned for my physical safety. There was a mounting succession of erratic and malicious behavior; did we really need to wait for violence? Had enough of a pattern started that would lead a court to believe that violence was in the offing? The burden of proof was on me. I had to prove that I was afraid for my personal safety. I had to make the case for the judge to extend my restraining order. I had been scared and tongue-tied during our last court appearance. I had stammered, my mind had gone blank, being on the spot had been nerveracking. This second date was an extension of that first one, and it was my opportunity to make my case. During the two weeks I had had a lot of time to think. I had realized how I was indeed worried for my safety. I had to make the case for my physical safety, but in my eyes, my emotional safety was far more at risk. The thought of Bill being back in my environment and bombarding me with his agenda was a burden. There is no price tag you can put on the value of your physical or emotional safety.
The kids came back from their vacation a few days early so they could be there to testify. Laura was testifying for me because she wanted to; Kyle was testifying because he had been served with a subpoena. I was sad they had to miss part of the fun with Kyle's family. His grandmother had rented a huge 7-bedroom place on Lake Tahoe, and everyone was there with boats and jet skis. The day the kids left to come home, everyone was parasailing. Yep, the good times had to end early for our two young ones. Back to the gray horror of the courtroom.
We were set for 10:00. Or so we thought. I had wondered why the judge had scheduled us for that hour; that's usually when they take their morning break. As we were in freeway traffic, my phone rang. Laura answered. It was my attorney calling to tell me that the court had scheduled us for 8:30. Surprise! Surprise! We arrived at the courthouse at 9:15 and had to go immediately to the courtroom where we got to sit through quite a number of status hearings before we were called. Our turn came at 11:30. I had written a statement that I had wished to read out loud. The judge asked if I would sign it under penalty of perjury and then everyone could read it during the lunch break. I did.
After lunch my ex, once again representing himself, had me on the witness stand for almost an hour during which time I had to be admonished for speaking too much, speaking before the judge made a ruling on objections, and being 'too conversational' in my responses. I was asked to read sections of my ex's 32-page diatribe where he wrote a number of vicious things about my father. My voice trembled and I was duly humiliated. At one point he was trying to paint a picture of my father as a misogynist, a racist and other things. He asked me how many people I knew who used the 'n' word on a daily basis, but he didn't say 'n word'; he said the 'n' word. Ooooooooh, unhappy judge. He let the ex know that was a word that would not be allowed in his courtroom. Ever. I got to answer questions about 'manicky' behavior and his being a homophobe, and I was able to sum that up telling him that he isn't generally a homophobe, he just doesn't like those who fit my dad's profile: hiding in plain sight, acting like a heterosexual while being a closet homosexual.
Laura testified about changes in her father's behavior over the past several months and my attorney was able to bring out the part where the ex tried to intimidate her out of testifying. Carmi testified that she had never seen him be unkind to my dad. But when my attorney got to cross-examine her, he was able to discuss the time Bill had asked her to leave the house while he had a 'talk' with my dad and how upset my dad was when she returned. I had also added that to the end of my statement. Kyle was not called to testify.
Closing arguments were another story. My attorney did something he had likened to 'building to a crescendo'. He started by reminding the court of the evidence they had heard so far. He talked about how all of these were the signs of a person who is behaving erratically and thoughtlessly, a person who had chosen to abandon his family and accused his wife of trying to kill him. What will he do next? He's erratic and unpredictable. The ex's closing arguments centered around his need to focus on his health, do his yoga and meditation, and do it in the house he had built 97% of. He said my dad and I could find a nice place to live where we could be very happy. He said my dad was a vet and could be in a VA facility where he would be able to get the same care he gets in our home for about the same price. He also said he had put keystroke tracking software on the computer and he knew I was having an affair. By this point I was shaking my head 'no'. Starting at the 97%, I was shaking my head. I didn't know this was against the rules. The judge let me know that was not okay in his courtroom. Yep, he was real clear about it. He told me if I needed one, they could bring me a box of tissues. My attorney muttered out of the side of his mouth, "You need the tissues, you need the tissues." So I nodded and they brought them.
But starting with 97% everything was false. Bill had built maybe 75-80% of the house. Or, more correctly, he had spearheaded about that much work on the house. He had participated as well. There is no doubt he worked hard on various projects at home. He had invested a lot of time and energy. But I would be remiss if I didn't mention that he did not put one penny into any of these projects. Not one penny. Ever. Secondly, my dad is not a vet. He was told he was not going to be given vet status even though he had gone overseas. It was post-war and the armed services had decided that doctors were going to be successful and have lots of money in their careers. They were not ever going to need the help of the VA. And me having an affair: that would be nice. That would be something to buoy me up and keep me going. That would give me something exciting and loving to look forward to. That wasn't something that was happening.
The judge was prepared with his decision. He rendered it in his calm and matter-of-fact voice. He spoke for at least 15 minutes. I couldn't tell which way he was going to go. Would he be sympathetic to Bill? Would he buy the big cancer argument? Did he think I was in danger? How important was Dad's safety? Did he think I was able to pick up and leave with Dad so Bill could do his yoga and meditation? Would he deny the extension of the TRO and allow Bill to move back into the house where he would squat, drive his agenda hard and blackmail me to get him out? (I could only imagine the conversations that would have ensued: "If you want me to leave you'll need to give me $5000 for moving expenses. No, make that $12000. I also need to hire an attorney. I can't leave without at least that much.")
He started by saying this was a unique and difficult case. He thanked Bill for enlightening him on the life of a cancer patient. But in the end, he found in my favor. My TRO would now be extended for five years. FIVE YEARS???!!! I thought he'd give me six months, maybe nine. But five years? He also ordered me to inventory, photograph and pack up all of Bill's personal belongings and have them out of the house within 30 days. In addition, since I had found and photographed no less than 28 pocket knives, he ordered me to sell the knives and split the proceeds with Bill. He said that we have some big stresses in our lives: bringing in an elderly parent is stressful, having cancer is stressful, getting a divorce is stressful. It's how you 'choose' to deal with these stresses that makes the critical difference. He emphasized the word 'choose'. I think he was also talking about how important it is to 'choose' to do good and behave well. He found tampering with Laura's testimony to be almost a crime. He thought putting keystroke monitoring software on the computer to be a form of stalking. He indeed sees a pattern of erratic behavior, not the least of which is the hiring and firing of three attorneys by Bill. Then he told us to go on with our lives.
The kids came back from their vacation a few days early so they could be there to testify. Laura was testifying for me because she wanted to; Kyle was testifying because he had been served with a subpoena. I was sad they had to miss part of the fun with Kyle's family. His grandmother had rented a huge 7-bedroom place on Lake Tahoe, and everyone was there with boats and jet skis. The day the kids left to come home, everyone was parasailing. Yep, the good times had to end early for our two young ones. Back to the gray horror of the courtroom.
We were set for 10:00. Or so we thought. I had wondered why the judge had scheduled us for that hour; that's usually when they take their morning break. As we were in freeway traffic, my phone rang. Laura answered. It was my attorney calling to tell me that the court had scheduled us for 8:30. Surprise! Surprise! We arrived at the courthouse at 9:15 and had to go immediately to the courtroom where we got to sit through quite a number of status hearings before we were called. Our turn came at 11:30. I had written a statement that I had wished to read out loud. The judge asked if I would sign it under penalty of perjury and then everyone could read it during the lunch break. I did.
After lunch my ex, once again representing himself, had me on the witness stand for almost an hour during which time I had to be admonished for speaking too much, speaking before the judge made a ruling on objections, and being 'too conversational' in my responses. I was asked to read sections of my ex's 32-page diatribe where he wrote a number of vicious things about my father. My voice trembled and I was duly humiliated. At one point he was trying to paint a picture of my father as a misogynist, a racist and other things. He asked me how many people I knew who used the 'n' word on a daily basis, but he didn't say 'n word'; he said the 'n' word. Ooooooooh, unhappy judge. He let the ex know that was a word that would not be allowed in his courtroom. Ever. I got to answer questions about 'manicky' behavior and his being a homophobe, and I was able to sum that up telling him that he isn't generally a homophobe, he just doesn't like those who fit my dad's profile: hiding in plain sight, acting like a heterosexual while being a closet homosexual.
Laura testified about changes in her father's behavior over the past several months and my attorney was able to bring out the part where the ex tried to intimidate her out of testifying. Carmi testified that she had never seen him be unkind to my dad. But when my attorney got to cross-examine her, he was able to discuss the time Bill had asked her to leave the house while he had a 'talk' with my dad and how upset my dad was when she returned. I had also added that to the end of my statement. Kyle was not called to testify.
Closing arguments were another story. My attorney did something he had likened to 'building to a crescendo'. He started by reminding the court of the evidence they had heard so far. He talked about how all of these were the signs of a person who is behaving erratically and thoughtlessly, a person who had chosen to abandon his family and accused his wife of trying to kill him. What will he do next? He's erratic and unpredictable. The ex's closing arguments centered around his need to focus on his health, do his yoga and meditation, and do it in the house he had built 97% of. He said my dad and I could find a nice place to live where we could be very happy. He said my dad was a vet and could be in a VA facility where he would be able to get the same care he gets in our home for about the same price. He also said he had put keystroke tracking software on the computer and he knew I was having an affair. By this point I was shaking my head 'no'. Starting at the 97%, I was shaking my head. I didn't know this was against the rules. The judge let me know that was not okay in his courtroom. Yep, he was real clear about it. He told me if I needed one, they could bring me a box of tissues. My attorney muttered out of the side of his mouth, "You need the tissues, you need the tissues." So I nodded and they brought them.
But starting with 97% everything was false. Bill had built maybe 75-80% of the house. Or, more correctly, he had spearheaded about that much work on the house. He had participated as well. There is no doubt he worked hard on various projects at home. He had invested a lot of time and energy. But I would be remiss if I didn't mention that he did not put one penny into any of these projects. Not one penny. Ever. Secondly, my dad is not a vet. He was told he was not going to be given vet status even though he had gone overseas. It was post-war and the armed services had decided that doctors were going to be successful and have lots of money in their careers. They were not ever going to need the help of the VA. And me having an affair: that would be nice. That would be something to buoy me up and keep me going. That would give me something exciting and loving to look forward to. That wasn't something that was happening.
The judge was prepared with his decision. He rendered it in his calm and matter-of-fact voice. He spoke for at least 15 minutes. I couldn't tell which way he was going to go. Would he be sympathetic to Bill? Would he buy the big cancer argument? Did he think I was in danger? How important was Dad's safety? Did he think I was able to pick up and leave with Dad so Bill could do his yoga and meditation? Would he deny the extension of the TRO and allow Bill to move back into the house where he would squat, drive his agenda hard and blackmail me to get him out? (I could only imagine the conversations that would have ensued: "If you want me to leave you'll need to give me $5000 for moving expenses. No, make that $12000. I also need to hire an attorney. I can't leave without at least that much.")
He started by saying this was a unique and difficult case. He thanked Bill for enlightening him on the life of a cancer patient. But in the end, he found in my favor. My TRO would now be extended for five years. FIVE YEARS???!!! I thought he'd give me six months, maybe nine. But five years? He also ordered me to inventory, photograph and pack up all of Bill's personal belongings and have them out of the house within 30 days. In addition, since I had found and photographed no less than 28 pocket knives, he ordered me to sell the knives and split the proceeds with Bill. He said that we have some big stresses in our lives: bringing in an elderly parent is stressful, having cancer is stressful, getting a divorce is stressful. It's how you 'choose' to deal with these stresses that makes the critical difference. He emphasized the word 'choose'. I think he was also talking about how important it is to 'choose' to do good and behave well. He found tampering with Laura's testimony to be almost a crime. He thought putting keystroke monitoring software on the computer to be a form of stalking. He indeed sees a pattern of erratic behavior, not the least of which is the hiring and firing of three attorneys by Bill. Then he told us to go on with our lives.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Out of $$$$
Let's see, you say you are out of money. How can that be???? I gave you $4054 on the 28th. That was two weeks ago. A week or so before that you got $5000 by getting a loan on the Acura. Then you said you got a loan for $7250 from a friend, AND you got your monthly $850 from Social Security. That comes to $17,000 or thereabouts. If you paid back the loan on the car, subtract about $5300. Hmmmmmmm.....You DON'T have a place to live, you DON'T have an attorney. You DO have a new laptop computer. You DO have a new fancy dancy camera. And you need more money? Let's do some math here. The camera probably cost $3000. The laptop cost $750. Let's say you've spent 22 of the last 32 nights in a motel. Let's say that motel cost $75 a night because I know that's about what they cost around here, and they're less in the desert. That's $1650. Then there's food. Let's say you spend $20 a day on food. 32 days of $20 would make $640. I know you have spent at least 6 nights at Agua Caliente on Tina's freebies but you DO have to pay some kind of tax, like $25 a night. So let's add in $150 for that. Then let's say you have splurged on some really nice meals. We'll add another $200. So what does that come to? And then there's gas. Let's say $200 for gas. Can that add up to $2840? Now, let's go over that income again and get some possible totals. There's a maximum of $17,000 if you really got a loan from a friend and you DIDN'T pay back the loan on the Acura. That would give you over $14000. Then, maybe you DID pay back the Acura loan. That would make about $11,700. Subtract $2840 and you would have almost $9000. What if you DIDN'T get the loan from a friend and you DID pay back the Acura loan. That would make $9,750 minus about $5300, leaving $4450. Subtract $2840 and you end up with $1650. Gee, that doesn't add up to you being out of money. Oh! But I forgot! You have a new camera and a new laptop. And you've been making swell motions in court and hiring and firing attorneys. Oh, and let's not forget the casinos. In my mind, that's what this is all about. You chose gambling over being married. I wonder where the money went. I wonder now. Have you been playing a little poker? Well, then, I guess you're out of money. You better sell your new camera.
Deception and Subpoenas
We need to find a way to get things to you. We need to find a willing party who will take things you need from the house to wherever you are. There are things you need. I understand that. You get mail here and you need to be able to read it in a timely manner. You have belongings, clothing, tech stuff, keys, etc. But you are behaving like one mean and nasty SOB.
You asked Carmi to take your mail over to you at David's. She did. When she got there you served her with a subpoena, a very sloppily done subpoena. When she got back to the house she showed it to me. "Oh, no. Not again," I thought. Not only did she have to go back to court but the scratched out sections of the subpoena let me know that you were going to be the attorney. 'In pro per' it said under your name. Here we are, back at square one again. You have fired another attorney. Having Carmi bring you your mail was just a ploy to serve her. I don't think she'll be helping out anymore.
Friday evening you were out in the desert and you told Laura you wanted to give her our GPS as a graduation present. She took the bait. You arrived at her house and gave her the Tomtom. You told them you had fired your attorney. You said something to the effect that she wouldn't do what you wanted her to do so you 'fired the bitch because she wasn't doing her job'. (I think this is more a matter of you not knowing the law than a matter of her not doing her job but when you are manicky you believe you can do no wrong. I can see how in your mind an attorney must do exactly what you say or they are history.) Then you excused yourself to go into the bathroom. When you came out, you served Kyle with a subpoena. He and Laura were stunned. She was speechless and couldn't even choke out the words to tell you you were never welcome in her house again. You told her you wouldn't call Kyle to testify if she didn't take the stand for me. She said, "Bring it on." They will both be testifying on Thursday.
Now who do you think is going to be bringing you your stuff from now on? Carmi? Kyle? I. Don't. Think. So.
You asked Carmi to take your mail over to you at David's. She did. When she got there you served her with a subpoena, a very sloppily done subpoena. When she got back to the house she showed it to me. "Oh, no. Not again," I thought. Not only did she have to go back to court but the scratched out sections of the subpoena let me know that you were going to be the attorney. 'In pro per' it said under your name. Here we are, back at square one again. You have fired another attorney. Having Carmi bring you your mail was just a ploy to serve her. I don't think she'll be helping out anymore.
Friday evening you were out in the desert and you told Laura you wanted to give her our GPS as a graduation present. She took the bait. You arrived at her house and gave her the Tomtom. You told them you had fired your attorney. You said something to the effect that she wouldn't do what you wanted her to do so you 'fired the bitch because she wasn't doing her job'. (I think this is more a matter of you not knowing the law than a matter of her not doing her job but when you are manicky you believe you can do no wrong. I can see how in your mind an attorney must do exactly what you say or they are history.) Then you excused yourself to go into the bathroom. When you came out, you served Kyle with a subpoena. He and Laura were stunned. She was speechless and couldn't even choke out the words to tell you you were never welcome in her house again. You told her you wouldn't call Kyle to testify if she didn't take the stand for me. She said, "Bring it on." They will both be testifying on Thursday.
Now who do you think is going to be bringing you your stuff from now on? Carmi? Kyle? I. Don't. Think. So.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Ending School
Once I returned to the house, it felt like things would soon find a sense of normalcy; like a set of scales that had been knocked, life was rocking back and forth but would, in time, right itself and stay still. I knew there would be more hits ahead, the scales of life would be set rocking more times in the next several months. I also knew there would be many dirty tricks, some of which would be deliberate attempts to run up my legal fees as promised. And I was right.
After the judge gave me possession of the house, I could finally turn my attention to finishing out the school year. There was so much to be done. I still had to finish my progress reports, make certificates, acknowledge volunteers, attend IEP meetings for incoming students, finish the cum files, and do the biggest job of all: secure and close up a 1200 square-foot classroom for summer cleaning. It was a monumental task and being locked out of the house and dragged to court had taken a lot of time away from it. But that was part of your master plan: blindside me while I have heavy demands at work as well as deliberately run up legal fees, lie to the court, steal and squander assets, and threaten and intimidate wherever possible.
You did not disappoint.
Work was a pleasant distraction from the divorce. I told very few people what had happened. They were feeling sympathetic and sorry for me that you had pancreatic cancer. They didn't all know that your tumor was shrinking and that your prognosis was excellent. It can be a strange juxtaposition of feelings for people to be sad and concerned that someone has as grave a diagnosis as pancreatic cancer and then find out that person is mean and selfish. Strange, too, is realizing that horrible people get cancer. How do you parcel out your emotions when a cancer patient is also a jerk? On one level you feel compassion, on another anger. One of the first things I told my colleagues was that your tumor was responding to the chemo and was shrinking, that you would be able to have the Whipple Plus surgery, and you were going to be one of those rare people who lived ten or more years with pancreatic cancer. We know people who have lived 9 and 10 years, and I even know a man whose pan can was diagnosed early and has now lived 18 more years. Laying that groundwork made it more comprehensible to people when I later told them you were gambling, were disinclined to do anything to protect me from any fallout, and that you had chosen divorce. They were shocked and aghast when I told them you had locked me out of the house.
My students rose to the occasion during the last days of school. It all went by in a blur but the kids worked hard and even washed and packed away much of the supplies. Somehow it all got done and on the last day of school we had a beautiful presentation of certificates and a pizza party. As is my custom, I called the children up one-at-a-time and said something unique and special about each one as I passed out their certificates. It was a bit challenging to say terrific things about a couple of them, but I find I love my students, even if their actions have made it tough to be their teacher, and I manage to find the words.
On that final afternoon, after everyone had gone their way, I finished the last bits of packing and stowing. This was one year where I hadn't gotten to the point of desperation I have always called 'Stash and Dash', where I reach a level of such exhaustion that I randomly shove loose items into cupboards and closets just to be done and go home. When it was finally finished, I turned in my keys. We had had several emails about turning in keys this year, unlike in other years. There has been a high incidence of theft at schools and somehow, someone felt it was related to teachers keeping keys over the summers. It will be interesting to see if, after this mass key 'turn-in', there is less campus thefts. I left school knowing that when school resumed in the fall I would return with a new life to a new office, a new principal and a new set of students. My life would be radically different, a thought that both excited and worried me.
After the judge gave me possession of the house, I could finally turn my attention to finishing out the school year. There was so much to be done. I still had to finish my progress reports, make certificates, acknowledge volunteers, attend IEP meetings for incoming students, finish the cum files, and do the biggest job of all: secure and close up a 1200 square-foot classroom for summer cleaning. It was a monumental task and being locked out of the house and dragged to court had taken a lot of time away from it. But that was part of your master plan: blindside me while I have heavy demands at work as well as deliberately run up legal fees, lie to the court, steal and squander assets, and threaten and intimidate wherever possible.
You did not disappoint.
Work was a pleasant distraction from the divorce. I told very few people what had happened. They were feeling sympathetic and sorry for me that you had pancreatic cancer. They didn't all know that your tumor was shrinking and that your prognosis was excellent. It can be a strange juxtaposition of feelings for people to be sad and concerned that someone has as grave a diagnosis as pancreatic cancer and then find out that person is mean and selfish. Strange, too, is realizing that horrible people get cancer. How do you parcel out your emotions when a cancer patient is also a jerk? On one level you feel compassion, on another anger. One of the first things I told my colleagues was that your tumor was responding to the chemo and was shrinking, that you would be able to have the Whipple Plus surgery, and you were going to be one of those rare people who lived ten or more years with pancreatic cancer. We know people who have lived 9 and 10 years, and I even know a man whose pan can was diagnosed early and has now lived 18 more years. Laying that groundwork made it more comprehensible to people when I later told them you were gambling, were disinclined to do anything to protect me from any fallout, and that you had chosen divorce. They were shocked and aghast when I told them you had locked me out of the house.
My students rose to the occasion during the last days of school. It all went by in a blur but the kids worked hard and even washed and packed away much of the supplies. Somehow it all got done and on the last day of school we had a beautiful presentation of certificates and a pizza party. As is my custom, I called the children up one-at-a-time and said something unique and special about each one as I passed out their certificates. It was a bit challenging to say terrific things about a couple of them, but I find I love my students, even if their actions have made it tough to be their teacher, and I manage to find the words.
On that final afternoon, after everyone had gone their way, I finished the last bits of packing and stowing. This was one year where I hadn't gotten to the point of desperation I have always called 'Stash and Dash', where I reach a level of such exhaustion that I randomly shove loose items into cupboards and closets just to be done and go home. When it was finally finished, I turned in my keys. We had had several emails about turning in keys this year, unlike in other years. There has been a high incidence of theft at schools and somehow, someone felt it was related to teachers keeping keys over the summers. It will be interesting to see if, after this mass key 'turn-in', there is less campus thefts. I left school knowing that when school resumed in the fall I would return with a new life to a new office, a new principal and a new set of students. My life would be radically different, a thought that both excited and worried me.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Trust
Last night my friend said, "You don't have trust issues. You have only one person in your life you can't trust; it's your husband. You got blinded. You were in love. Unfortunately you were in love with a selfish narcissist who will lie, cheat and steal to get what he wants. He had your number and he used you. Everyone else you can trust. Right? Can you trust Beth?"
"Yes."
"Can you trust your dad?"
"Yes."
"Can you trust Rose?"
"Yes."
"Can you trust Carolina?"
"Yes."
"Can you trust me?"
"Of course."
"Who else can you trust?"
"My brother and sister, Kathleen, Mark, Rose Marie, Rosie, Lisa, Sally, Larry, Tim, Laura, Kyle, just about everybody."
"Ok, so you don't have trust issues. You won't be in therapy for years over trust. You won't have difficulty entering into a new relationship because you can't trust."
"But I'll be much more careful and I won't get in a rebound relationship. I'll take my time. I'll learn to be me and to enjoy my aloneness. I'll pay more attention to details. I won't 'settle'. I won't do anything out of desperation. I am a valuable commodity and I won't sell myself short. But I don't sleep around and I'm not easy but let's talk about that some other time."
"Yes."
"Can you trust your dad?"
"Yes."
"Can you trust Rose?"
"Yes."
"Can you trust Carolina?"
"Yes."
"Can you trust me?"
"Of course."
"Who else can you trust?"
"My brother and sister, Kathleen, Mark, Rose Marie, Rosie, Lisa, Sally, Larry, Tim, Laura, Kyle, just about everybody."
"Ok, so you don't have trust issues. You won't be in therapy for years over trust. You won't have difficulty entering into a new relationship because you can't trust."
"But I'll be much more careful and I won't get in a rebound relationship. I'll take my time. I'll learn to be me and to enjoy my aloneness. I'll pay more attention to details. I won't 'settle'. I won't do anything out of desperation. I am a valuable commodity and I won't sell myself short. But I don't sleep around and I'm not easy but let's talk about that some other time."
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Some Days
Some days are just great. I fly through them as if I have always lived happily like this. I smile, I go out to eat, I chatter with friends, the time goes by without me noticing. Texts and emails asking me how I am are easy to answer. I enjoy the tasks I have to do around the house and I look to find more things for me to do. I clean out drawers and closets in anticipation of my new life, the joy of my aloneness.
But not other days. Other days, I feel like there is a dark, heavy, wet blanket draped over my entire life, following me wherever I go, weighing me down, making every move an unpleasant chore. I get out of bed in the morning and immediately want to crawl back in. Moving is like trudging through molasses. On these days time goes slowly. There is nothing I want to do. I force myself to take care of business, talk to Dad, interact, make phone calls, take care of the house. I live in a fragile place where one person's wrong comment can cause me to retreat into a deep emotional hole. I am hypersensitive, a wounded little bird. The divorce seems larger than life, like it will never end, like it will dominate my entire future and destroy me. It's days like these when I most need the encouragement of those I love. Texts and emails asking me how I am are not so easy to answer, and I try to be honest without blowing people away or sounding histrionic.
But not other days. Other days, I feel like there is a dark, heavy, wet blanket draped over my entire life, following me wherever I go, weighing me down, making every move an unpleasant chore. I get out of bed in the morning and immediately want to crawl back in. Moving is like trudging through molasses. On these days time goes slowly. There is nothing I want to do. I force myself to take care of business, talk to Dad, interact, make phone calls, take care of the house. I live in a fragile place where one person's wrong comment can cause me to retreat into a deep emotional hole. I am hypersensitive, a wounded little bird. The divorce seems larger than life, like it will never end, like it will dominate my entire future and destroy me. It's days like these when I most need the encouragement of those I love. Texts and emails asking me how I am are not so easy to answer, and I try to be honest without blowing people away or sounding histrionic.
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