2018…

2018.

I haven’t written in a long time. I’ve been told that I should continue writing–not just for me, but also for those that read these.

So, I am. I opened up my laptop and logged in. I started reading my past posts. GOD what a change. The old me is still inside, but she’s teeny tiny. Smaller version. Floats around and is barely visible. Sometimes she makes herself known, but very quickly disappears back to where she came from.

So where am I now? Calmer. Quieter. Less stressed. Less wound up. Less tense.

When I talk about my path, I always say that blogging really helped me get through those years of pain, darkness, death. It really did. That and knitting. I have a “divorce scarf” that I knitted while going through that. I still wear it to remind me of how far I’ve come. It’s not perfect. Neither am I.

 

the unknown.

First of all, I’d like to give a shout out to my friend Jamie. I called her and unloaded all this crap on her this morning. Her first question: “ok, do you have xanax?” No. But I will be getting some. Her last question: “why don’t you blog all of this?” So thanks, Spanks, (her nickname…Spanky) for your advice…

The ex has had a baby with his girlfriend, now fiance…Cried when the baby was born (out of sadness, not joy) and cried when I heard they got engaged. (Thanks, Jamie for softening the blow for me) That lasted about 2 days then I was over it. I am sure when the big day comes, I’ll either be:

a. doped up on xanax and sleeping

b. drunk.

c. at a spa

d. with my girlfriends (hopefully c and d)

Fast forward to the unknown…

My kids are making their first communion on Sunday…(we have twins)

One pew. One family. Me, him, kids…I asked my parents to sit someplace else so it wouldn’t be awkward. My parents hate my ex for what happened. Rightfully so.  Did I mention my dad is still paying for our wedding? I digress..

I shared with my ex that we have one pew for the kids’ family. He and I need to sit with the kids, go up with them as they receive communion, etc. I kindly asked him to have whoever is coming with him to sit someplace else. The seating arrangements could look something like this:

Me, kid, kid, ex, my mom, my dad, his whore

Me, kid, kid, ex, my dad, my mom, his whore

Him, kid, kid, me, my mom, my dad, his whore

Him, kid, kid, me, my dad, my mom, his whore.

 

Anyone see a pattern here? Has he answered my request? No. I told him that I wish we could sit on opposite sides of the church but that can’t happen. “I’m sure we can”, said the ex. See, he doesn’t believe in following rules that are given from other people. The letter clearly states that we are to SIT WITH OUR CHILDREN. If he chooses not to, that’s his deal. I’ll be right there with my kids.

My parents agreed to sit someplace else because they don’t want to make it awkward for anyone. Because THEY ARE SMART. He thinks everyone is ok with what he’s done.

News flash–we’re not. Still not. I wish I was. When will it go away? I read an article that I don’t need to forgive. Forgiveness is Overrated. Read it here. If he was truly sorry for his actions, then maybe. Anyway, I digress. again.

I’ve been having the craziest dreams because I have so much on my mind regarding this. I don’t want to dream of my old house (where they live, happily ever after) and them anymore.

I still don’t know where she is sitting. The unknown is killing me. Just as it has in the past. I need to “prepare for the worst, hope for the best, pop a xanax”–Jamie.

 

 

 

 

 

“I thought only old ladies knit.”

Why thank you, 11th grade student taking 10th grade global for the second time. I pulled out my knitting needles to show them the scarf I am working on for my daughter.

I just learned how to knit two weeks ago. It is very meditative. The English teacher I work with knows about all of my stress and anxiety so she taught me how to knit.

(great story about your brain while knitting: http:// http://www.kvia.com/news/health/This-is-your-brain-on-knitting/25150486)

Is this what my life is going to become? I am 35 years old, single mom of twins and a knitter.

I can hear the feral cats now. “meow, we smell your yarn old lady let us in.”

Will I become a hoarder and end up on Hoarding: Buried Alive? They might find those cats dead wound up in balls of yarn.

I enjoy it though. I get lost in the motion and time just slips away from me. I forget all of my problems and I create something. It’s a nice hobby.

Thank god I am allergic to cats.

Stress much?

I follow many mindfulness blogs, read many books on how to “be present” and practice concentrating on my breath when I realize that I’m not even breathing.  My stress levels are really, really high that I can’t even begin to process how to deal with it all and “just be.” The reactions in my body are so strong that it feels as if there is a little man living in my chest just pounding away with a hammer, trying to get free.

 

 

I guess that could be a metaphor for my heart and head.

I am so overwhelmed by my life’s current state. You know the phrase, “when it rains, it pours”? Well it’s a frickin tsunami in my world.  How can I just “let go” and “just be” when I have huge waves of stressors crashing on me everyday? How can I deal with it?

Alone.

Triggers. Those nasty little gnats that pop up in my face every once in a while. I try to swat them away but they have already bitten. (Do gnats really bite?) Anyway, as soon as I experience a trigger I have heart palpitations, sweaty hands, swirling thoughts of anger, hurt, sadness and I just want to crawl back in bed and cry.

I thought I was doing better.

My counselor said I was doing better.

But I’m not.

I still don’t understand and I know I never will. These damn triggers bring up things that I thought I had dealt with already. Damn gnats. I hate gnats.

 

So to say that I am stressed is an understatement. I need a personal relaxation specialist. A life coach who could follow me around and tell me EXACTLY what to do so I can live a normal life. Slap me in the face if I freak out. Pinch me if I get too anxious. Punch me in the gut if I try to reason with unreasonable actions brought upon me by someone I trusted and loved.

If you know of anyone who would be willing to take on such a task, just send them my way.