Car Drama

So, much has been settled from my divorce.  The only legal thing that has tied us together has been my car.  Even though we agreed the car would be mine, it still had to remain in both of our names because there were still payments left on it.  Talk about a pain in the butt when I moved to Florida and had to get a new title and registration.  However, once the car was paid off, it would be transferred to solely me.

Car was paid off in May.  I started looking into the details of the new title ahead of time so I would be prepared.  I waited for the pay off letter to email my prior spouse so there was proof no money was owed on it.  The process should have been very simple because it was an electronic title.  But, no.  He had to go and complicate things and lie about it!

I made two trips to the DMV.  And there were additional costs because he had the title printed and mailed to him.  He was caught in his lie of saying he was looking into it when the DMV shared with me the date he requested the paper title to be printed.  Fortunately, I had options.  Since I had legal documentation that the car was mine and a power of attorney document for the car from my prior out of state registering process, they could wait 30 days and consider that the paper title was "lost."  Then, I could request a new one to be printed and get it all switched over to me.  Or he could sign and appropriately mark the box on the paper title and send it to me.  He lied again about putting it in the mail, which I called him out on it.  But, either way I was returning to the DMV and going to get my car.  Fortunately, it came in the mail the day before I went to the DMV.  So, while the electronic title would have been the cheapest and fastest route, it would have been most expensive to go the title "lost" route.

Why?!  Why complicate things when you were the one to so quickly want me out of your life?  I was proud of myself for keeping the email communications brief and to the point.  I initially believed him when he said he was still looking into the details.  My blood wanted to boil when the lady at the DMV told me he had already requested a paper title and that it had been mailed to him about three weeks ago.  Really?!  You are "looking into things?"  I was seriously concerned he was going to try to take my car.

Then once it was all signed and done, I felt a little sad and almost teared up.  I took a deep breath and put it behind me at the DMV.  The sadness surprised me.  I figured that would come with the annulment, not a car.  But maybe it was because he hasn't participated in the annulment process and has just ignored it (making  it even longer), and that the car was the last thing we had reason to communicate.  I thought I would have felt relief.

But I didn't, just sad.  Not a sad that I miss him.  Not a sad that this would be the last time to "speak" to each other (if you count email).  Not a sad that I wanted him back.

Maybe a sad for that distant loss.  Maybe sad for a good-bye that was never said.  Maybe a sad to honor what had once been cherished, loved and important.

Ugly Day

Some years are better than others.  This was not one of them.  This year I felt angry leading into Mother's Day.  It is difficult to avoid social media.  Mother's Day related posts on fb are not just restricted to the day.  I feel that the trend on my feed this year was a bunch of "what moms really want for Mother's Day" memes.  These were not sweet sentiments.  These were gripey expressions of wanting more alone time, not wanting to wear crappy handmade jewelry and frustration about missteps in gift giving.  The memes screamed Mom Club.

The work of being a mother is difficult.  It is a job for life.  It is important to make time for yourself.  It is polite to accept gifts with grace.  However, if someone has been unintentionally hurt by someone's gift giving choice, there may be better tact to share this information.  As a person who has struggled with becoming a mother and who still dreams of one day becoming a mother, these memes feel ungrateful, insensitive and hurtful.

On the eve of Mother's Day, I wrote a brief comment on a few of the originator's memes, from where it seemed created.  Generally, it expressed validation that mothers work hard and need time for themselves.  But, it seems ungrateful to be complaining when there are women whom would love to have a child express their love for their mom, a person whom that child feels they are the most wonderful, loving and beautiful person in the world.  There was no response.

The next day was difficult getting out of bed.  I just wanted to crawl into a hole.  Lately, I have felt in a dark place about motherhood and feel like it may not happen.  I called my mom and wished her a Happy Mother's Day.  I wish I could be closer to home.  I was glad my sister was home to spend the afternoon with my parents.  The Cavs won, so that made my mom happy.  We sent texts back and forth about it.  I love my mom.

Microblog Mondays

November Guys

Another picture text came my way from my Mom and it was bitter sweet.  I know it is my family's way of including me, especially living further away and not getting to be part of family gatherings.  And I hate to admit it and it is one reason why it has taken me so long to write about it.  It stings and hurts on multiple levels.  I wish it wasn't so.  I really do.  I think I was trying not to let it bother me.  But the harder I try, the more it creeps back and hurts more.

One of my godsons celebrated his birthday in November.  It is also the same month of my Dad's birthday.  Little J~ is a guy's guy and loves being around his male relatives.  My mom gets a kick out of how much he enjoys my dad and buddies up with him.  In the picture, Little J~ was sitting on my Dad's lap playing an arcade game at Chuck E. Cheese.  My first thought was, how sweet.  Which, I guess is an improvement.  But, it was quickly followed by a piercing sadness.

Then my dad sent a picture text of Big J~ and Little J~ where they both had enormous grins.  It is a rare sight with my cousin because he is such a serious guy and his little boy doesn't fall far from the tree on that one.  That picture made me smile.  It wasn't as hard.  And I was happy for them, more wholly in that moment.

I continue to get better at seeing people in pictures with their children.  But it was hard to see one with Little J~ with my dad.  I want so much for that little boy to be my son sitting on my dad's lap.  I want to be the one to bring my parents joy with grandchildren.  Durring times like these, I briefly ask myself, why can't that be me?

It also doesn't seem to be getting any easier because as my parents get older, it is just another reminder that time is limited.  My mom recently shared that my dad is thinking about retiring next year.  I don't want him to retire.  It just really means he is getting older and I don't want to accept that.  It just doesn't seem fair.  But life is not fair as it keeps painfully reminding me.

All of this probably sounds selfish, but I cannot entirely help it.  I try to rise above.  But sometimes you have to admit those ugly feelings to yourself.  Otherwise, they just eat you up and that is not good.  I guess it goes back to the idea that feelings are not bad, it is what you do with them.  So, I keep it to myself.  And I remind myself to be thankful that my parents get to have these kinds of experiences.  And it is good for my cousin and my godson because Big J~'s parents each passed away awhile ago and never met there grandchildren.  It is a blessing for all to be there for each other to give support and share their love in other ways that cannot be.

Broken Foot

Meh...

So, it seems this was a work in progress, maybe.  I enjoy running.  It is one of my favorite ways to release stress because I usually get to be physically active and be outside while doing it.  Unfortunately, I started having pain in my foot around the end of April, beginning of May.  I just wanted to make it through the Cleveland Half-Marathon. 

Cleveland is my hometown and to have the opportunity to run in this race meant a lot.  I remember sometime in middle school and hearing about the race and thinking what fun it would be to run in the city.  When I found out how long the race was, I wasn't sure if that could be something I could do.  In grade school, I was often the smallest and slowest runner in my class.  If I was playing tag at recess, it was only a matter of time before I was "it."  That usually meant that I was "it" for the remainder of the time because I couldn't catch anyone.  After a while, others began to catch onto this pattern and found that it really wasn't fun to have me hopelessly chasing them around the playground.  So then, mercilessly, someone would eventually volunteer to be "it" so that the kids could resume running at full speed and I could try to catch my breath...praying that someone would not say the chant (I cannot remember) that makes it so that everyone has to leave base.

Needless to say, it wasn't until I was an adult that I discovered the joys of running.  I may not be fast, but I do enjoy it.  So, I think I weakened my foot and tried to give it a rest over the summer.  When I finally decided to go see my doctor about it, I got back into my car and my phone rang with the job offer for Orlando.  I had the x-rays done in Pittsburgh and they did not show anything.  During my moving into my new apartment, I tripped on a step and my foot just did not feel the same.  I think that was when it was officially pushed over the edge.  I had x-rays done and now the break was clearly visible.

Since September I have had a series of steps in trying to heal my foot.  I started with an air cast and a knee scooter.  The lady who completed the paperwork for me to rent the scooter at the store said something about, "Now that you are disabled..."  That did not go over well.  Me, disabled?  No.  I decided to make the most of it by installing a bicycle bell on it so at least I could bring some kind of humor to the situation.  With the hospital being so new, I was quickly recognized as the girl on the scooter.  At first, people thought it was a toy and part of my job as a Child Life Specialist.  "Oh, you Child Life Specialists have all the fun toys!  You are so fun...oh, wait.  What's that on your foot?  Oh, your foot's broken.  Sorry!"  I will say the scooter was better than crutches.  I could pick up some real speed on the straight aways.  Some people teased that I would get a speeding ticket.  Others would say that I would miss the scooter because I would be so much slower.  Not so much.  As much time as I could save with going fast in a hallway here and there, I spent more time backing up and going back and forth to maneuver in and out of doorways and tight spaces.  A time or two I got a little jammed and stuck trying to get out of the elevator that I felt like Austin Powers in the golf cart in the first movie.

Over time, I realized I was in a safe bubble at work and people were just used to it.  Granted it made for a lot of extra conversation and inquires of how I was healing.  But, it was well intended and I preferred to think of it as people cheering for me, even if it was somewhat tiresome having the same conversations about ten times per day.  I usually had my canned answers, but tried to say it with a smile.  Then it started happening at the Publix.  The people who worked at the store began to recognize me and would strike up conversations with me about my progress and giving me well wishes.  It was slightly invasive and I really didn't want to be drawing extra attention.  Again, I took it as more people sending me good vibes for healing.  Then, I went to the mall and there were a lot of people who openly stared at me.  It made me feel uncomfortable.  I suddenly appreciated my safe bubbles of work and the Publix.

I was also irked when people would ask me if I had a handicapped parking pass.  What?  No.  I am not disabled...even if technically temporarily...I did not identify myself that way.  It ticked me off when people would say that I should take full advantage of my situation with the parking thing or milking it for some other favor out of pity.  NO!  That was one reason why when there was one guy that I dated for a bit that I appreciated that he did not say those kind of things.  He joked with me as was my way of coping, but he did not treat me any differently.  And he was good at listening when I could be honest about my frustrations with it.  (More on him in another post.)

After about a month, I started to transition off of the scooter and try walking more with the air cast.  Sometimes it was strange and somewhat comforting when some people didn't even realize that I didn't have the scooter anymore because it had just become no big deal.  The transition was giving me some hope.  But, I still felt awkward and it was starting to wear on me.  I found myself not wanting to go out in public for longer stretches where I might need the scooter.  I was just so done with it and my mood was dark.  I was getting into a funk.  Being restricted in not being able to really exercise was not helping and starting to take its emotional toll.

Last week I was down graded to a "walking shoe," which looks like a sandal version of the walking cast.  At least now I can swim laps in the pool, as long as I don't push off the wall.  I went for a swim after an unseasonable cool spell.  It felt great and really helped my mood.  I look forward to doing more of it, as long as the weather cooperates.  Fortunately, the pool for laps in my neighborhood is heated.

Supposedly, I'm moving in the right direction.  As long as I can handle the progression to regular shoes and walking, I *might* get to try running in February.  But, what totally stinks is that after all of this, the pain could come back to my foot and all of this could be for nothing.  That is what I fear the most.

And as much as I am trying to stay positive, it is wearing on me.  I miss wearing matching socks and shoes.  I miss wearing my cute shoes.  I haven't even been able to wear my Florida shoes yet!  With the holidays coming and the New Year, I feel like I can't really get excited about dressing up all cute.  I don't feeling like wearing a cute dress and then this aweful velcro sandal.  Maybe I'll head to the beach for New Years.  It's a good place for a flip flop.

Some Books Are Better on the Shelf

So, my sister sent me this link to Darwin Deez's Bad Day a bit ago when I was in the throws in feeling angry about my most recent relationship ending.  While I am sometimes uncomfortable with being angry with a person who has left me in a relationship, it still surprises me how much others can feel angry for me.  It kind of comes as a relief in being angry myself.  It's normal.  It's okay.

So the song starts with, "I hope that the last page of your 800-page novel is missing."

No, sometimes actually finishing a book can be downright disappointing, too.

The book that had been on my shelf for several years that I bought as a vacation beach read is called Holy Cow by Sarah Macdonald.  It is an autobiography of sorts where a woman in her thirties from Australia revisits India for a gamble on love and takes a spiritual journey.  This helps her to make sense of the world, to figure out what is truly important and to learn more about herself.

It caught my eye while walking around the book store.  Funny thing is that I started reading it on a beach vacation the summer before A~ and I were just starting to try to conceive a baby.  The first chapter or so was good, but I was distracted with wanting to read Harry Potter, too.  Harry Potter won.

The vacation ended and the book returned to my shelf.  There it sat, replaced with reading material about infertility, mending relationships and soon grad school required reading.  I wanted to read it.  But after the fallout of my divorce, I hesitated because it reminded me of the last happy vacation I had with him.

Next I began my relationship with RJ, and I didn't feel like tainting my happy thoughts with sad thoughts of reminders of my past relationship.  I was trying to move forward.  Plus, I was still busy with grad school readings.

Then when RJ ended the relationship and grad school was done, I felt that I had no more excuses.  I wanted to read the book to be done with it.  Maybe it would surprise me or maybe I could justify getting rid of it because giving away a book I purchased and hadn't read seemed like such a waste.  It became my book to read on the bus going to and from my summer internship job.  Perfect!

As I read the book, it was interesting to read how the main character had to learn how to let go of so much.  She faced herself and her broken preconceived notions about life.  She embraced life as it was and found the good in people.  She changed her perception.  The people and places had not changed, but she changed the lens that she viewed them.  She found a certain peace, acceptance and happiness.  It also touched on the importance of balance in a relationship and not to lose oneself--having personal grounding and independence while flexibly creating a life together with someone else.

Sounds good right?

(Spoiler Alert)

As I was reading the second to the last paragraph of the book, the author tidies up by writing about what she has learned from each religious group she meaningfully encountered in India.  She reflects on what she learned before returning home.  Good, strong woman stuff.

Then, the very last paragraph washes it all away.

Basically, the author goes onto say that all of that stuff really doesn't matter because she is with child that she and her husband conceived before leaving India (mean while most of the story is spent with the couple spending nearly all of their time apart because of his job assignment).  The baby is special because it will remind her of the sacrifices and growth during her two years of life in India, but that having a baby is where the real meaning in life can be found. 

So, diluted enlightenment and I'm better than you because I can get knocked up by my husband.

I closed the book with disappointment.  Really?  The last paragraph did not seem relevant to the story.  They were never trying to have a kid.  What happened to the personal grounding and finding happiness and contentment within yourself?  What happened to realizing that a relationship is fragile and when one person's career dominates the relationship, it can hurt it when it is at the expense of that relationship?  What happened to two people who realize that their life together is more important than if they have career success without that special person to share it?  Fine that the baby will remind you of your time in India and that the conception was special.  But, to imply that the spiritual journey didn't really matter because being a mother supersedes it?  Really?

Then, I think back to all of the times that I started reading the book or picked it up and thought about reading it.  It would have been far worse timing.  It may have been chucked into the ocean.

This is not helping me to be okay with being in the temporary* space of not having a baby at the moment.

(*Working on being happy and while being open to find a man first, while holding onto hope for possibility.)

Feel free to make book recommendations.  I could use them.  I live by a pool.

I Saw You Looking Back...

as you were pulling away from the driveway in your car.  I pretended not to notice as I took out the Tupperware containers from my lunch bag to be placed in the dishwasher.  I casually spun around and returned my lunch bag to its place on top of the refrigerator.  In that moment of glancing up and out of the kitchen window in the midst of my usual after work routine, I saw you do something that you never did before when we were together...something that when we were together I looked for so hopefully.

I cannot tell you how many times I stood by my kitchen window watching as you left.  Part of it is my familial habit of walking visitors, friends and family to the door when saying good-bye and then watching and waving in their send off.  Sometimes it seems silly, but I cannot help these rituals.  It provides some sense of comfort, hope and well wishes exchanged between myself and those that I care about until I see them again.  When it is reciprocated, there is a sort of feeling of closure in that moment, almost like an acknowledgement...until the next time...or...my spirit is with your spirit.

But when we were together, you never looked back.  You would jump into your car and off you went...zoom...onto the next adventure in life.  So many times you were full of energy and bounding to do the next thing.  I wondered if I was hardly a thought in your mind as you carried about your day after you left.  You seemed so comfortable in your leaving.  But was it that you took for granted that you would return to me?

Today you paused.  You were looking up at me, and what seemed like the first time that you had been watching me.  It's strange to suddenly realize that you are being observed.  My breath slipped away and when I neared your eyes, I looked away.  I didn't want you to see me noticing you noticing me.  The thing that I longed for when we were together and you didn't do, suddenly now you took the time to do.

My heart hurts and it's not fair.  There are days that I still miss you, still think about you and wonder why it could not have worked.  I loved you so.  But then I think back to the things that secretly brought me relief when it was over.  And that saddens my heart, too.  It comes in cycles of mourning, sadness and anger that get smaller and smaller with time.  They are followed by the building of strength that comes from productively feeling the pain...to honor what was lost in order to move onward.

Why did you have to look at me in that way today from your car?  It was awkward enough to have to ask you to come and unlock my door after I locked my keys in my apartment.  You were kind about it, but you could hardly look at me.  And I could hardly look at you.  We were polite and asked the obligatory, "How are you?"  I sensed that you did not want to be there in that space with me as it felt quietly rushed.  Both were seemingly insouciant, but with more under the surface than what either of us was willing to admit.  I cannot imagine what the real thoughts were in your head.  I have no idea.

As you were unlocking the door, I just kind of glanced around you.  I could not look at you, as much as I wanted to catch a glimpse of your face.  A song came to my mind, one that is so cliche, but snippets kept jumping out at me...

"Dreams, that's where I have to go to see your beautiful face anymore." 

I almost felt like I would rather just remember you the way that I imagine than to painfully see you in this current reality knowing you are no longer with me. 

"I would lie and say that you're not on my mind."

Dealing With My Anger

I don't do angry well. I don't like to feel angry. Part of me feels guilty when I feel angry because it feels like it upsets the balance of the good that I feel about someone, or felt about them. Anger also feels dangerous, much like fire. It is like I am weary of getting too close to that emotion because I am afraid of it settling in too easily and turning into bitterness. It can be hard for me to be able to let go of things. And because I know this about myself, I would rather just avoid that path of accidently getting consumed by the hurt, pain and resentment.

Instead, I often times internalize that anger and blame myself. It is easier to be hard on myself, which I know is not a healthy choice.

But I also try to focus that negative energy into something more productive, like running or playing sports. Thank you, Pittsburgh, for the PSL! The PSL is the Pittsburgh Sports League and is part of the Pittsburgh Urban Magnet Project (http://www.pump.org/). The whole idea of the organization is great and I think every city should have one, if they don't already. And through it, I have taken out my aggressions through things like flag football, cornhole and dodgeball. It is not like I really want to think about who or what I am mad at or about, but just want to expel the energy.

Then when I can focus and get on a roll, I will pour myself into my work. Before it was grad school, and now it is in looking for a job. I know I am hard on myself because I would like to have had more progress in my job search, but I have to be patient and just keep going. It is like there are not enough hours in the day. I will also sometimes feel badly if I take a break or let myself sleep in a little bit. But I need that rest, too. I need the quiet or the time to reflect and process all that has happend and is happening in my life. But I don't want to get bogged down by it either.

So my developing realization is that I am angry with RJ. I'm not angry, angry...and do not plan on staying angry with him. It is more of that natural hurt that comes with rejection. I just need to let myself feel it and let it pass. Forgiveness will come in time. I do not hold anger in my heart towards him. My grouchiness is almost like a distancing when thinking or talking about RJ. I certainly do not want to badmouth him, but it is more like releasing some of the irksome stuff. I spent a lot of time thinking about the things that attracted me to him, the ways we complimented each other and the qualities that I loved about him. It just makes me too sad now and I am dissapointed and frustrated with his decision. I am just searching for a way to slowly separate myself from him, while having that balance of honoring the good and the moments that we shared and experienced together.

Good-bye RJ

RJ and I talked earlier this week. No surprises, but I was able to talk to him about my three main areas of concern--lack of respect for not calling me, feeling like he did not give us enough time, and that he was making the decision about our relationship without me...in that hey if you sense things are off, talk about it, explore it, and at least try to figure out the "why" before you run.

I told RJ that I felt that part of that missing piece in the relationship was that he wouldn't communicate how he really felt about me. While I respected that he did not want to lead me on, I also felt that he was holding himself back. If you love someone, you say it. You don't fear that you will change your mind or that the relationship may end sometime down the road. You have to be honest and communicate with that person in that moment because otherwise it does not allow the relationship to grow. It restricts it, creates confusion or mistrust, and puts up a wall.

He talked about how he had really been hurt in the past. But I told him he hadn't talked to me about that in a long time and I didn't know how he felt about it now. Then I said that is why you have to check-in with the relationship from time to time and let the other person know how you are truly feeling. Loving someone is scary sometimes. It is also takes a lot of work. Loving someone is a choice that you make every day.

I just feel really angry because I feel that of all people that he could have tried to be more open and honest about fears of getting hurt was with me. I know what it is like to get hurt badly. RJ said there wasn't anything that I did do or did not do in our relationship to end it. He said he just felt like he wasn't fully into the relationship and did not want to be wasting any more of my time. I just don't understand what was missing for him. And maybe I cannot relate because I was willing to put my whole heart into the relationship with what I had to give along the way. If you are not fully into the other person or the relationship, then what is the point? I just don't know why I couldn't see that he was not in it all the way. Or maybe I did, but I did not want to read into things too much and assume there was a problem and kind of create one if there wasn't one.

And I am also angry because I feel that with so much of what we talked about could have brought us closer together and made our relationship stronger before the breaking up. Had RJ been more honest and open in sharing how he felt scared and vulnerable, we could have validated and comforted each other. Again, love can be scary because anything worth doing takes thought and consideration. And if you are just mindlessly going along with it and just doing what is expected, the relationship becomes empty. And as I have been trying to tell him in coming to my own life conclusions, it is that you cannot be scared about the what if's...will the person leave me, will the relationship end...you have to make the best decisions that you can with the information that you have at the time and how you feel about that person in that present moment.

Ugh...

We left on as good of terms as possible that night. There were times that we hugged and cried a few tears, but there was also a distance with it. When the conversation turned towards how we would be moving forward...exchanging stuff, communication...RJ became emotional. Either he is not fully resolved in his decision or he is trying to leave room to string me along. If it is the first thing, then I feel so angry for him making his choice in such haste. I don't understand how he can say that he still has feelings for me, but thinks breaking up is the right thing to do. Can't you nurture love? Then if it is second thing, I would loose a lot of respect for him and I don't even want to think of that as a real possibility. It is very difficult for me because I want to believe the best in people, but I am afraid I am very naive in that way.

As RJ left that night, he seemed at a loss. As we hugged, I shared that it is really hard for me to see my life without him, but mumbled that it would probably be better not to communicate. He seemed to agree, but I felt it odd to be taking the lead in setting expectations of how it would end.

After he went out the door, I walked back out to his car for one last hug. I felt like there was something still left unsaid. I told him that I would not regret the relationship with him and that our time was special to me. Then I said thank you. That is when we really hugged each other. I told him I wished we could have just one more night, but softly laughed it off...knowing it could have been beautiful, but then that much harder to let go in the morning. RJ said something like, me too. With one more hug and a quick, gentle kiss on the lips, I walked back inside without looking back and he drove away.

Since RJ was going to the gym, I decided to make a mad dash to his place and get the rest of my stuff that I wanted. I just did not want to put it off any longer and knew it would be harder later. I needed to do it for me, so that I could really begin the process of moving forward. I sent him a text to let him know so that it would not surprise him coming home, and I said that I did it out of a caring place.

I continued that I felt that we had ended things with dignity and peace when we parted. And I wrote that that I will miss the "us" terribly and that I will hold a fondness for him in my heart. RJ responded that he can't even explain to himself what he is feeling. I asked him if he wanted to come over, if there was something more to say...I kind of had that feeling that maybe he was rounding near that break when a relationship is ending and you share what was truly special about that person and the experience. He said maybe later and that he didn't think he could handle it well at the moment. I said that that window is now and that we wouldn't have much more time, but I would respect it if he did not want to come over. I was hoping he would because I felt that because we were both so raw, there could have been a refreshing honesty in just being together as a final good-bye...more than words. I felt it just before he drove away in that last hug, when you really open yourself up one last time to honor what was real and special in the relationship. So, I will just hold onto that last hug and kiss because that is as close as I think RJ can get to really letting me back into his heart to have a deeper good-bye.

Angry Tears

This summer I came to the conclusion that sometimes when I cry, they are angry tears. Angry tears come out of frustration and are not to be confused with sadness or lack of control. It is a release for me.

But I also get frustrated when I start to cry and I don't want to cry at that moment. And it just gets worse and worse the more I try to stop. It can feel like my insides are completely coming apart and melting down. It becomes difficult to breathe and I just want to run or escape as quickly as possible. I want to hide away from the world.

I hate how when I cry I feel like others see me as weak, oversensitive, or incompetent. I just become overwhelmed by emotion and feel things so intensely. It makes me upset because I so want to please and do not want to be judged by others. I am at a loss of how to make the tears stop. Sometimes the world feels so very heavy.

Bad News

Why is it that with really bad news that I am always really caught off guard? I just found it so silly when my dad called me this morning and just said he was on his way to come and visit. Yesterday Mom said he would call and just see if I was still up for it. But I was eager for him to come, even though I really wanted them both to be here. I was hoping to set up a time for them both to come as I have been feeling a little frustrated that Mom seems to be working so much lately. But now I know.

When Dad first told me about it, I was in shock. Breast cancer was the farthest thing from my mind, especially given all of her other health problems. My first thought was, "Please, God, don't let my mom die."

Dad says it is very treatable and that the doctors consider it to be more like living with a chronic illness. They said it is important to remain positive. I just don't know how to do that right now. I dread my mom having to undergo possible surgery, chemo and radiation. I don't want her to suffer or to be in pain and it is inevitable.

It's not fair. Mom is supposed to do her clinicals this year to get her LPN degree. That looks like it is going to be completely off the table, whether Mom wants to accept that right now or not. She and Dad have seemed to have a stronger and healthier relationship than they have in years. This is going to add a lot of stress on them and their relationship. It makes me feel so very sad and scared. I don't know what to do to help. I don't want my mom to die. I want to be stubborn and not think that that will happen. But I also don't want to see her loose a breast or her hair. She shouldn't have to go through that. And it sucks because it may have been prompted to come about faster because of the Embrel--a drug that had brought her so much relief from her psoriasis. I don't want that to get all out of control now either. It just really, really sucks.

And then there is that selfish part of me--the part that thinks about myself. This is not a good time for me with all that is going on in my life. It is all just another thing that is sucking away my focus on what I need to be doing. I am angry because I want to be there to support my mom, while I am freaked out about how I am going to be able to manage it all.

I wonder what other crappy thing is out there waiting for me with that superstitious everything comes in three's. I found out my ex got remarried, my mom has cancer, and I don't want to stomach what will be next. When and where is that moment of peace? I think that is why I miss last summer so much. And there was another piece of it somewhere around the first of December.

Ten Years Ago

Ten years ago I got married to a man who I thought I would spend the rest of my life. This was the anniversary I wondered about in what we would have done and accomplished in our lives together. I looked forward to making it to ten with a house, children, satisfaction in our careers, rich with family memories, and still being madly in love. I looked forward to that milestone and thinking that we would still be pretty young and being set to enjoy the prime of our lives. Not that I wanted to skip all of the years between, but I could really envision a future with him.

I am so very sad and hurt today, on what would have been our wedding anniversary. I don't want to be with him anymore. But today just really sucks. I am angry that he cheated on me. I am angry that I am thinking about my past with him. The loss of the happy memories makes me feel sad. I feel so mixed up and I would rather just forget about today.

Part of me wants to just curl up in bed and stay there all day. Part of me wants to treat the day as any other. But ten years just seems like too much to ignore. I thought last year would be difficult and it was. But I thought this year might have been easier and it is not. I am tired of hurting. I am tired of this day haunting me. It is too big for me, I want to give up this burden and to be free.

Another Crappy Thing...

I am mad and frustrated. It seems that there can be a misalignment in the progression of my life and how it may be perceived by others in my life. It is kind of like having a distant relative that always seems to think of you as the six year old you and not the adult you. It does not give credit to the time and experiences you have had since being six years old and that you are a different person.

So as I have written before, I have been dating. I may tell some of my family and friends about some of what has happened, but I may not get into a ton of detail. This is particularly true for the guys I dated in the spring. I understood it was new and did not carry expectations that it would go very far. I slowly let it leak out that I was starting to date so that my family and friends could get used to the idea that I was taking this step in my life. It seems so odd to have to let other people get used to the idea of me dating when it was not something that I was jumping into or doing as a way to prove my worth as a woman to myself or anyone. I really believe that when I started dating, I was really ready. And I know this from how I have felt about my experiences. It was not too soon or forced or rushed. I spent a lot of time thinking things through and was patient with myself to wait and to heal.

So it ticks me off when I feel like I am being judged about dating, whether it is too soon or if I would really be ready to see someone more exclusively. It is like some of my family and friends do not trust my own judgment on if I really know what I am doing or if I have any business in a relationship right now. But this isn't about if they are comfortable with me seeing someone exclusive. Guess what? I am ready and I want to enjoy the experience. It makes me mad when someone cannot share in my happiness.

I guess these feelings are amplified because I met this really great guy and I want to introduce him to the important people in my life. Since he is the first guy I have seen exclusively, I think some of my family and friends have been hard on him. And I don't believe it has anything to do with him and that this reaction would be the same if I inserted another guy. But to tell you the truth, by questioning my readiness for dating, they are missing out on a great person in my life. I feel badly for him to have to be the first and be put through this crap.

I should also say that most of my family and long-time friends are out of state. So they do not see me from day-to-day and cannot fully appreciate the changes in me. It is like there is this version of me that is stuck in their mind and I have to wait for them to realize that is not the current me. It is like I have to take these extra steps to prep them before introducing them to my new guy.

I am just thankful that my friends who are local are happy for me. I think they have a better idea of the current me. They have seen me at my lowest, but they have also seen me as I have picked myself back up in real-time. They have trust in me and that is so important. And I would have to say that is true of my BBC friends, too. These ladies have been reading and writing with me every step of the way. I am so grateful for their support, as well.

New guy, I am sorry you are being put through a lot. It is not a reflection on you and it is not fair. But please know that I think you are awesome, full of positive energy, and I am happy that you are sharing in my life and that I get to share in yours.