Thursday, December 29, 2011

I'm done after this. This is the last time I speak of it.

To the Man who broke my heart:

We would have been married for 10 years today. I looked forward to this day since the day we got married. Remember how it snowed that day? We should be celebrating 10 years of ups and downs and tragedies and triumphs. We were going to look back at all the things we had done as a team and look forward to everything to come. We were going to build a house on 5 acres. We were going to retire and get an RV and travel the country. We were going to have a lake house and surround ourselves with our friends and family. We dreamed of a life. We lived a life. And suddenly, it all came to an end. What went wrong? Where did lukeandangela go? How did I let this happen to us and to our kids? This wasn't how today was supposed to be.

I keep trying to start at the beginning and walk all the way up to the point where you stopped loving me. The point when my world collapsed. Remember when we were just kids? There was so much laughing. We walked in the rain. We talked about everything from the intense to the inane. So many fun times. We played and honked and ran and loved each other. We really did. Then we talked and shared and became a team. A team that shared everything and always valued honesty and trust. We worked hard and we overcame obstacles that seemed insurmountable. We taught other married couples how to communicate and how to love and how to stay clear of the devastating effects that even a little temptation to stray outside of the team can cause. We built a wall around our relationship to keep it safe. We believed in us. I respected you. You were a man with integrity. You practiced what you preached. And we were happy. Weren't we?

Do you remember all the hours we could spend in a bookstore? I always loved how you devoured books. You could never learn enough. Do you remember how nobody ever wanted us to play on a team together because we had that unfair advantage of thinking each other's thoughts? Do you remember creating our first home and painting pictures and being so excited? And the pictures turned out so ugly but we hung them anyway. You taught me how to open myself up and introduce myself to people. You listened to people and understood them. You were always aware of the people around you. You stood out as a strong leader. And I admired you. You told me once that you never wanted to hear me say the word "can't". I still hear you saying it to me to this day. Even now, when I feel like I've lost everything and I have no hope and no future and no belonging or value and think I can't handle the pain for one more second...I hear you say "I never want to hear you say the word 'can't'. Yes you can." We were installing a ceiling fan in our first home. You wanted me to hold the fan over my head and I said "I can't". And that stays with me everyday. It seems silly, really. The same way a purple surge protector could have been so silly and yet so meaningful all at once.

I know that I was a burden. I have a disease. I will always have that disease. But it was controlling me. I know I didn't pay attention how I could've. I didn't do things right. And that left you neglected. So I worked. I worked so hard to get better mentally. And it was the hardest thing I had ever done up to that point. This tops that as the hardest thing ever. And I started getting better. And better. And soon I was independent which is what you said you always wanted for me. I worked and drove and taught and brought in money and felt like I was renewed. And you said "I have my wife back. I have my best friend back". And it brought tears to my eyes because I didn't even realize how much of me had been missing. But I was back. And then you encouraged me to submit my proposal to the conference only 10 months ago. And I did. And I spoke at the conference! You were supposed to be there though... That was the plan. My original proposal didn't include the parts of the speech I actually ended up giving. The part about how to survive loss and devastation and loneliness. Let alone OCD. But I did it. I did it.

Do you remember that Christmas when we found out we were going to be parents? And we were going to do it differently than everyone else. We were going to do it right. Remember the hours and days and weeks we poured into each other as we decided how and why we wanted to raise our kids the way we would. We had dreams for them and plans for them and we were going to be there to see them graduate and go to college and get married. We named them things that had meaning to us. I was so proud to have your last name and to be able to give that to our kids. Remember the Christmas that we were snowed in? Remember the red and green pancakes? and the PJ's and the smores and the movies? We didn't have that this year. This Christmas was not how it was supposed to be.

Do you remember when we renewed our wedding vows? Remember the music and the posing and the pictures and the gold suit? And we laughed and danced and drank champagne. Do you remember getting that tattoo right after that? It was fun and impulsive. Do you remember when I got the tattoo to match? And then we wanted to do something even more meaningful and we tattooed names on our backs? Do you remember it when you see it? Do you remember loving me then? Was it still there? Or had you already stopped? I meant those vows. "I promise to remain faithful only to you until our days on earth are finished and we meet again in heaven." I meant them the first time, I meant them the second time, and I would have done anything to make you happy again. Because I vowed to. In good times and bad. Under Holy matrimony. And it was just that to me...Holy. It was sacred and real and tangible and spiritual and not something I ever questioned. Until I was too late to question it. It was just gone. I lost my faith in what is Holy. I lost faith in humanity. I lost faith. I lost hope. I lost.

Remember all of the pictures that we had? Remember the scrapbooks and the frames and the program from a recital that you framed and had our kids sign? I look at our pictures...when our kids were born, our birthday parties, the picture from our wedding that was completely candid as we laughed together, the kamikaze bathroom ninjas, our life as we shared it, and I try to figure out which ones are the ones where you had stopped loving me. Because I can't find it. I look at the very last pictures we took as a family. As a couple. "Just be yourselves" she said. And we whispered into each other's ears, and kissed and smiled. Not for the camera, but for each other. For our life. For our kids. And that was only one year ago last month. You were very convincing for having already stopped loving me. I wish it was as easy for me to forget as it seems to be for you. Because those were the best years of my life so far.

Do you remember when I found out about your affair? And I asked you upfront why and how and what did this mean? And you didn't know. "I don't know. I don't think I love you and I don't want to be married anymore" you said to me expressionless. It was flat and horrible and unrecognizable. And then you just climbed into our bed and went to sleep. Our marriage bed. Our room in our home. It was the worst moment of my life. Because for the first time I realized that my teammate, my best friend, the person who always had my back...had been sneaking around behind it. Everything I ever thought about you vanished. All those memories and pictures and hopes became fake. Like they were all a lie. I knew you were spending less and less time with me. I craved your words and your touch and your presence and your energy. But it wasn't there for me. Which makes sense. Because you didn't have any left over for me after spending it all on someone else. The grass isn't greener on the other side, it's greener where you water it. And my grass was all dried up. And you wouldn't let me near your grass. You didn't even tell me that you had needs that weren't being met. But I guess they were because you had someone else doing my job. And if you told me, I didn't understand. And I'm truly sorry. I'm sorry for all the anger and hurt I have directed towards you. I would have done anything to learn how to be better. A better friend, a better wife, a better mom. But you ran the first time it got hard for us. If only you had given me a chance. But you were too busy with someone else by then. I never stood a chance.

What hurts the most is that you never fought for me. Yes, I had always asked you never to lie and never to cheat and if you did please do not make me go through the pain of accidentally discovering it, just tell me about it. So that was devastating when you did lie and cheat and make me find out on my own, but what hurts the most is that you didn't fight for me. You pretended to. You told me it was over with her. She meant nothing. You were going to do anything you had to do to make this right. You were going to save us. And you went to counseling with me. Three times. That's it. And you lied. And lied again. I was desperately trying to get to know you and reach you and talk to you because we were having hard times but we had VOWED to fight through and never give up. I thought it was working. But you were lying. And I looked foolish. You must have thought of me as so so stupid. Because that's how I feel about myself. I am so so stupid. I believed you when you sat in that room and "worked" on communication and healing. I believed that you were done in your other relationship and I was willing to give you time and space to heal as well. But you lied. You were with her the whole time. And you said you told her you loved her. I guess this is just how you treat people you love now. You never truly fought for me. I never stood a chance. I was so humiliated the day I had to go to therapy alone and tell her that I had caught you. Again. That it never had been over. That you never intended to make it right. It was humiliating. Is she nicer than me? Prettier than me? A better mom to my own kids than me? A better cook, cleaner, kisser, flatterer, partner, friend, confidant? It continues to be humiliating every time my family or any of the few friends I have left ask me how I'm doing. It's embarrassing to be a failure. To not be worth the energy for my own husband to even attempt to rebuild what we used to have. I guess it was never really that good in the first place. And I'm too dumb to have noticed. You used me up. You emptied me out. You threw me away.

You told me that you had wanted to leave for years because you were so unhappy. And it was my fault. Then why didn't you go? Why did you make me catch you in the act and force you out? Why couldn't you just leave. I deserved better than being lied to. She deserved not to be kept in secret. You treated us both like a shameful secret.

Do you remember how we traveled? We had so many experiences and firsts and amazing times? Do you remember the last vacation we took together? With our kids? Do you remember how it ended? Do you remember the words you said to me? Do you remember telling me that you hate me? Do you know what your eyes looked like? They were scary and I felt like I was trapped in an out of body experience. Who was that man that said those words? They cut. I still bleed. I am still raw. I am still stunned and overwhelmed and keep hoping that I will wake up from a nightmare where this stranger who looks like my husband said some of the cruelest and most heartless things to me that I have ever had inflicted on me. And I hope this man doesn't treat the newest "love" in his life this way. I wouldn't wish this on anyone. Ever. I feel like my husband died. Maybe that would have been easier than you outright rejecting me. I miss him everyday. Sometimes I almost accidentally call him to tell him something funny or amazing. Sometimes I almost call out to him in my home. And then I remember that he is gone. He'll never be back.

I had this fantasy after you left us to move in with her that any day you were going to realize all you lost and come back. And apologize. And tell me how sorry and wrong and awful the whole thing was. And I was going to be angry but I was going to do anything to work to forgive and rebuild. Because I had vowed to. I understand that I have some ownership in this and I was already trying to change. I imagined that we would go back to counseling for real this time and work hard and start brand new because we deserved that chance. Our children deserved their parents to do everything possible to stay together in real partnership. They deserve to have us both, all the time, together as parents and friends and husband and wife, because that is what we were before them and that should've been what we were long after they move out. Not taking turns being a part of the important experiences in their lives. They never asked for this. I even had this wild idea that we would spend all this time working hard and recommitting and remembering why we loved each other to begin with. We would remember that love is a choice not an emotion. We would choose to stay in love even when we weren't yet back in like. And it would get better and we would fix the things that were broken and be stronger on the other side. And the sickest part of that fantasy was that I really believed that today, our tenth wedding anniversary, we would publicly recommit our lives to each other. We would start over. It would be an example for our kids and our families that we never give up. We don't say "can't" because yes we can. Yes I can.

Do you remember the last time you were happy? I do. And that's what I want to hold on to. Do you remember the questions that I asked you? Can you be honest with me just this one last time and give me the whole truth that I asked from you? Can you help me one last time? It may not make sense to you but nothing you have done has made any sense to me for the last year. I want to let you go. I want to be at peace. It's hard. Because I choose to love you. I'm just sorry that you didn't choose that for me. I wish our kids could grow up the same way we wanted them to. I wish that we didn't have to share them. I wish a lot of things. But I guess it's not up to me anymore. I'll just try to deal with the hand I was dealt. And do you remember when I said I would never give up on you? Well, I won't. We can't be together anymore. I don't want to risk the hurt again. But I will choose to always love you. Because that is my choice. And I decide not to stop. It's just different now. It wouldn't hurt so bad if I had never cared.

Do you remember how I told you that you made me want to be a better person? Did you ever know how much influence you had on me? Did I ever influence you? Well, you still do. Help make me a better person that is. You broke me and forced me to discover me inner strength and resolve and worth and power and femininity and ability to love at all costs and desire to never say "can't". You still make me a better person everyday. I just never expected that it would require you shattering my heart to do so. But for that I thank you. I thank you for the chance to step back and see all of the things that I CAN do. Yes I can. I thank you for giving me good times and great times so that when the bottom was so dark and so mean and so isolated I could remember that I have the right to get up again. I even realized that I can love again and I can let someone love me. I didn't expect it. I didn't go looking for it, but it definitely wasn't an accident. I decide to love him. I am in control of that. And the commitments and promises I make to him are my responsibility to keep. Not his to earn. You taught me that I don't have to earn love. I'm better than that.

I have the responsibility to teach my children to love even though it might hurt. I will teach them to forgive even when we want to hate. I will teach them to pick up their pieces and never let anyone else define their worth and never depend on someone else to make you happy. Only you can do that. Hear me, only YOU are responsible for your own choices and unhappiness and how you react in difficult situations. Hear me. You said "I can't". I don't ever want to hear you say "I can't". Yes you can.

You can move on. And you can love again. And you can choose not to hurt any other women in the way that you hurt me and your kids and our families. You can decide to take responsibility. You can be a different person. That's OK. We all change. I expected it. I changed too. I just expected that we would do it together. Like we promised. Ten years ago today. Happy Anniversary.

Tuesday, December 27, 2011

Okay this is happening. Don't try and stop me.

Yes. This is about to happen. I'm not sure where it will end up. I'm not sure how to start. It might be incredibly poignant. Or mean. Or cause cringing or maybe applause or maybe just a little understanding. It is what I want to say and need to say and feel drawn to say. I will not defame or belittle or intentionally hurt or be ugly. But I want to tell the truth. I want to purge this story once and for all at the end of this month that would have marked my tenth anniversary. At the end of this year that has caused me more pain and more change than I ever thought was possible to even survive. And I almost didn't. And to be able to start brand new as a new person in a new year in a new life with new people. I hope to get a response. Maybe I won't. Maybe I will. Maybe it won't be at all what I want to hear but maybe I need to hear it. Either we go:

To the Woman who took my husband:

Sometimes I am so angry with you. I want to hate you and curse you and track you down and make you hurt as bad as I do. You knew me. You knew my family. You knew that I loved my husband. You decided to keep pursuing him anyway. You let him continue to feed you his emotions. It hurts. It crushes. It betrays. It is a pain worse than death. It is abandonment and worthlessness and bitterness. It makes me feel like a failure as a wife and mother and friend and woman. It makes me cynical and untrusting of any other man. It makes me cynical and untrusting of other females. I made such an effort with you to reach out and try and be your friend because I knew the two of you had been friends for so long. I didn't want to. But I did. And I got burned.

But most of the time I hurt for you. I cry for you and I am sad for you. Because we are the same, you and I. As much as you think you hate me and think that we are nothing at all alike, we are the same. You have been wronged in your life. I know that and you know that. You have been let down and made vulnerable and put through the experience of marriages that crumble and life that is just unfair. And it is pain and confusion. You have been there. So how could you do it to me in return? What did I do to deserve your influence in my life. A negative wedge that cut further and further into my marriage. I don't know what you were told about our life together. Maybe it was true, maybe not. Probably not. But no matter what, you KNEW he was a married man with children and a wife who wanted nothing more than to make it work with him. And you didn't remove yourself. I realize how hard that would have been for you. I really do. I know you are hurting too and not having him would have meant having no one. I don't doubt there are feelings. Strong feelings that you have for each other. But at that time, he was committed to me or was at least pretending to be. And if you really loved him, you would have backed off and stayed away and allowed our relationship to either thrive or end in a natural and less hostile way. I'm so hurt that another woman could do this to me. A wife to a wife. I'm so unbelievably hurt by that. And it makes me wonder how badly you must be hurting to be able to go through with this and do the same thing to someone else. And that makes me sad.

I hurt for you because I was lied to at your expense. I was lied to about you. You were lied about. I was treated poorly and so were you. You might be still. I don't know. All of the attention and energy that should have been invested in my marriage was turned and invested into you. He gave up on me without trying. And now he has you. Why will you be different? He turned his back on us. I don't want you dealing with this again. I don't want my kids to go through this again. And then there are my kids...I answer questions. Will daddy stop loving me too? Where did daddy go? And I have no answer. Because the answer is that he is with you. And you let him. You let him leave us. And he stopped loving me with no warning. His commitment to me was solid up until the moment that it wasn't. And he didn't leave me. Not technically. For as long and as much as he said he loved you, he didn't leave me. He made me catch him in the act. And said he was sorry and vowed to do anything to make it right. We went to counseling. We went away together. He told me it was done with you and nothing was ever there in the first place. And wouldn't you know I caught him again. And still I had to be the one to file for a divorce. I had to stand up for myself. If you are worth the price of my family and security then make him stand up for you. Make him earn you because you are valuable and important and smart and beautiful. I don't have any question as to why he wanted to be with you. You are witty and kind. And that's the kind of man you deserve. One who doesn't involve you in so much pain.

So I leave this year and I reflect on what would have been my tenth wedding anniversary. I vacillate been hate and hurt. but really it's the same thing isn't it? I am angry because I hurt in every way a person could possibly imagine hurting. I've lost everything and it's hard not to blame you. You couldn't have controlled anyone but you, but with that being said, your choices cost me a hell of a lot. I don't hate you. You are just too painful for me to comprehend. And I make mistakes. BIG ones. And I lash out. I've hollared at Jesus a few times. And He reminds me to love and forgive but it is so hard. I'm sorry. I don't need to be best friends, but a little understanding would be nice. Some revelation that you get how it came to this. I want you to understand how lonely and awful it is to have to share my kids. I never chose to have them part time. I miss seeing them grow and you were instrumental in that situation coming to be. We are women. We shouldn't be divided. We need to believe in our worth. I am working on that. I am proud of what I have accomplished since my life changed. I am trying to love again. I am trying to forgive. And I promise you to the bottom of my heart that I will keep trying everyday to get better and forgive and let go of the hurt. Because I truly believe that it wasn't your intention to hurt me or my children. I don't think you meant for us to feel this way. Either of us. I hope you read this. I hope you respond. Your response would be welcome even if it is something I don't want to hear. I just want to know how you could do this. And then I want to move on and get stronger from the lessons I've learned.

to be continued...

She also talks about herself in third person way more than she used to

I spent some time today re-reading a lot of things I have posted in the past. It was like this weird little journey into some one's life that I don't know. It was like I was reading about a stranger. Here is this crazy lady with all kinds of mental disorders, like LEGIT mental disorders, but has this seemingly amazing husband who is supportive and understanding. And she teaches marriage classes, at a church no less! She has kids and fun and love and mishaps and laughs. And she seems to have optimism and charming self-deprecation. But then she turns into this like, dark, injured, kinda bitter individual. And hurt and divorced and dating and enjoying some awesome beer. What the hell?

And that's the other thing about these posts from me/her that I was noticing today as I caught up...she curses SO MUCH now. Not so much before...but now it's like a damn sailor. Maybe it's the circumstances. Maybe it's all the trauma. Maybe it's a deliberate act to distance herself from the ideal of perfection that she was trying to be for so long. The "good" Christian and the perfect wife and the best mom and the most musical and creative. Maybe she was stifling herself all these years. And it seems from the progression of these posts and the cumulative nature of this blog that she is changing and growing and experimenting for better and worse, but has ALWAYS been honest. Every time. She was honest about things she believed to be true at the time. And when things changed, she was honest. And when she screwed up, she was honest. And she laughed and hurt and changed and cried and succeeded and failed in front of God and the blogosphere on the off chance that anyone actually was paying attention and may possibly have gotten the slightest bit of peace that they aren't alone. I know that I have realized that I'm not alone and thank God for it. Also, she makes me laugh because she is clumsy.

So go back and check out a few things. It may surprise you. It might make you miss the girl she used to be or understand a little better the woman that she is trying to become. It might make you mad but at least it will make you feel. It might make you cry or laugh or start cursing. Maybe you'll see Jesus as a totally different guy than you thought. Because He is constantly changing things up and I can't keep up dammit! But He stays patient and loyal and is the only one who has never left my/her side which is more than I can say for some other people I know. And damn it all if He hasn't left their side either which is infinitely irritating and also sooooo Jesus.

I don't know what's coming next. But I don't want to forget where I came from. That way when I get there I can appreciate the journey.

Friday, December 23, 2011

I am just the neatest.

OK, remember how I have OCD right? And because of that I have pretty regular skirmishes with depression and generally unusual behavior? And how also I just got divorced in the most traumatizing way possible? And how that would totally eff up a normal person but seriously does some screwing around with crazy people? And how I have been relapsing and having all kinds of touch sensitivity and anxiety attacks and obsessions? K, well that's happening.

Silver lining first. I promised.

I see new Psychiatrist next week. And dear sweet little 8 pound 6 oz baby Tim Tebow with his little golden helmet throwing passes to the angels, I need this. NEED. THIS. I haven't been able to see Psychiatrist OR Therapist for the last couple months. Scheduling, insurance, fort building blah blah blah all got in the way of that. So the good news is that I have insurance! The good news is that I will be covered for mental health! The greatest news is that I am finally getting help again! The bestest news is that there is help for mentally ill or just extremely damaged people out there. I don't have to suck it up and pretend I'm handling everything the right way. I get to really experience it and live it and feel it and learn from it. Right now it feels similar to having my stomach carved out with a knife and perpetual sleep deprivation and crying and worthlessness and anger so intense that I swear I should not be left alone in the same room with a couple different people. But it feels. That's the important thing. It feels. And I have the opportunity to feel it get worse and then get better and then maybe worse again and then feel like poop problems but that may just be all the pizza and beer and then I get to remember it. And grow. And have a kick ass scar.

One more good news and then we shall move on to the more questionable of my choices lately... I have this boyfriend... I don't know where he came from. I mean, it feels like he just showed up in my life at the exact right moment and just jumped right in and is coming along for the ride. There are very few people with the guts/insanity to get in depth with me. I'm like an onion. A crazy-ass onion that just keeps peeling back layers of what the hell?! So anyhow, the other day he wasn't feeling very good and so because I am so mean and full of hatred (that was sarcasm, see previous post) I wanted to send him a feel better text. Something to the effect of "I love you because you are a kind and good person. I love you because you know just how to make me laugh" and he fires back..."It's easy to make crazy people laugh." And I did. I laughed so hard. My whole day was better because there was not a more perfect response and I didn't even see that one coming.

And in the crazy news...
I have this obsession lately with picking on someone in particular. Someone I may or may not have been legally bonded to for a significant period of time. I just can't seem to stop myself. I need to stop because it is childish, but I don't. I just keep at it. I may or may not involve another female who may or may not have equal culpability in ex's shenanigans. I like to call it shenanigans because then it's not so gut-wrenching devastating having been cheated and abandoned. Shenanigans is way nicer. And then I think of Super Troopers and then I smile. And my seven year old can "meow" anything. ANYHOW...I can not stop. Emails, texts, every form of picking that I can do. I'm pretty good at it though to be fair. For example:

(After the suggestions that I was responsible for all communication break-down and needed to just accept that this whole thing needed to happen and was unavoidable and that he desired my support in his choices and that I should act thusly because the past is over and was unavoidable in how it played out. There was no other choice.)

Stop being so passive-aggressive. I'm sorry I forced you to be unable to communicate and now understand that you have always been nothing but extra kind and honest and all miscommunication has been on my end. On account of the rage. I apologize that my actions have forced you to do and say things that you physically were unable to stop yourself from doing. I'm very powerful. Like a magician. Also I have apparently created a magical world where you are king and everyone speaks as though they are authoring a text book or Nobel prize winning essay. Me and my vagina will try to use our powers of telepathy and telekinesis to force politicians to speak wisely and force murderers not to murder and force Justin Bieber to hang himself. And the responsibility will lie solely with me and my vagina and will in no way cause the speaker or person any ownership.

Aaaaaand there you have my response to being told that I forced another woman to take my place. I know that's not true. I know I deserve better than that. I could have let it go. But no. Not the most mature response, but awesome at least a little. Yes. I know. I shouldn't do this.

I'll edit the next one as to protect the people involved and avoid defamation.

I guess when you told me that you would never accept anyone treating me that way and that I wasn't a piece of shit or a bitch you were just lying. I guess when you told me you would always pick me you were lying. **** is just the one who helped ruin my life which is perfectly acceptable because I'm not really all that valuable as a human apparently. It's cool...because I can handle it. No, I DESERVE it, right? Excellent. ...I wasted the best years of my life with you probably [cheating] the whole time. I only wish I caught your sorry ass sooner...I guess I was really really crazy. Otherwise I would have seen through your bullshit a long time ago.You must be proud when you look in the mirror. You are so proud of everything you've done. Maybe you should blog about it...When you are ready to leave her, man up and do it. Don't overlap it with someone else. That's all I ever wanted. If you don't want me, leave me. But don't replace me. I'm sure you are very emotionally healthy and honest now. Because you are different. You do things your way. No matter what.

Ugh. Ok. I know. I know. It's bad. It's really really bad and actually kind of mean. But I can't seem to stop doing it. It's what Psychiatrist will call "injured behavior". I know that. I know I am hurt and I'm doing the only thing that seems logical which is hurt right back. And I can't seem to make it hurt enough to balance out my pain and humiliation. So this is why I am outing myself. I know it's wrong. I do regret it. After I send it.

And for my grand finale I present you with...

And as for me being "needy"...I've bought my own home, work full-time, took care of all the mess you left behind for me, balance my family and my friends, create, perform, blog, still have demand as a speaker, travel, grow, teach, learn, experience my emotions fully and completely, I laugh and try things and meet people and I'm not scared to cry and hurt and I accept things as they come and have always been fiercely honest, I took the leap of faith to love again despite you, and I am not only surviving, I am a survivor. I am not crazy and I'm not afraid to admit anything about my mental health. I am not needy enough to have to wait for help to come to me, I get it myself. I wasn't needy enough to allow you or anyone else to walk all over me, so if that got me "kicked out of two churches for being unstable" then God bless unstable. I'm not so needy that I can't keep getting out of bed every morning and making choices and living with OCD. I'm not so needy that you were the one who did all the hard work making me better. I'm not so needy that I did it for you. I did it for me... I'm not so needy that I can't continue to work my ass off everyday to build a life for myself. One that I always wanted... I have never waited on anyone to approve of anything i am or what I say or what I believe or how I live. I have always stood strong and stood tall and never backed down even when I stood alone. I suppose that makes you needy enough to make someone do your dirty work for you. And I did. Because I am strong. And worth more than you try to make me believe. I am not needy. I am not scared. I am not going to back down or get pushed around. Never have. Never will. I have more resolve and determination and fearlessness and guts and brains and understanding of who I am then you have ever had. Think twice before calling someone needy. You might just be reflecting your own faults back to yourself.

Right?! What the hell, me?! I'm putting myself on shout because I need some kind of intervention or something. Also it's my backwards way of being a little bit sorry without having to actually say it. Blaaahhhhhh. I hate being grown-up. If this was the playground I could just push them both down and throw dirt in their hair and make them cry. Hopefully Psychiatrist will have some fancy new "Quit being an asshole and let it go" pills for me. Or at least help it stop hurting so much. Either way, I'll take it.

Let the comments commence...

Thursday, December 22, 2011

Brilliant ideas that may or may not thinly vail some mild hostility. And impulsiveness. And borderline prostitution.

Brilliant idea #1:

You may now call, text, email, drop by my house or work, send a carrier raven (thank you Game of Thrones), skype or in any other way contact me for my services which I shall now be offering. No I am not a hooker. Yet. Talk to me in a month and see how my car is holding up. No I will not be cooking or cleaning or basically doing anything at all. I will just be there. In fact, I don't even really need to BE there. You can just do this. I shall now be...drum roll...your official SCAPEGOAT!

It's brilliant, right? Here's why. Everyone I have ever known ever seems to already be blaming me for their problems or their choices or their consequences because somehow I have magically forced them to do things entirely against their will and against their better judgement so yes it is all my fault that everything is going wrong dammit! Not everyone I've ever known. Just a bunch. Church people, friend people, former family people, stranger people, and mostly ex-people. I like to think of it as my magical vagina magical using powers of mind control and conscience removal. Because apparently I magically force people to do things that they feel no guilt for because really, let's be honest, I brought this on myself. Specifically I brought it on myself because I am "mean" "have hatred in my heart" I am "unstable" and "needy". OK. Neat. I can work with that.

So NOW I figure I'll capitalize on my finely honed blame taking skills and take on all of your mistakes, regrets, misspoken words, bad choices, sadness, anger, and hate. I caused it all so I'll take it off your hands. I'll leave you guilt free and consequence-less. You are welcome! And in the spirit of Holidays, and to prove how mean I am I shall be charging you one million dollars. Payable now. Even if you haven't used my services yet. Because I am also very needy. And don't want to be a prostitute. Unless you are a very very handsome man. And also Ryan Gosling. Who I honestly would not charge. I would probably pay him.

Brilliant idea #2
Every time I complain about something I have to balance it with something awesome. Something funny or insane or inspiring. Because I am an inspiration dammit! Here's mine for today...I was telling a story at work and used the phrase "Mrs. Clause had a vibrator" and totally did not mean it the way it sounded but I didn't know if I should point out how awesomely inadvertently funny it was or just keep going so I just stood there with my mouth open like a damn fish and decided to breeze past it and keep talking when another woman in my office goes...huh huh vibrator. And then I remember why I like to work here.

Brilliant idea #3
Since I seem to be in the less than festive and slightly bitter stage of life even though I have the best closet space I've ever had (see...silver linings!), I need blog help. HELP ME! Ask me questions. Throw out some scenarios to better understand how a crazy person would handle that situation. Challenge me. it's like truth or dare but without teenagers and acne and every dare being "you kiss her...on the mouth." Seriously. I'm losing my edge. I watched the Hallmark channel for like 10 whole minutes the other day without throwing the remote through the TV. Then I put on a show about serial killers.

Brilliant idea #4
I want to get a dog. Not just a dog, but a mastiff. Why a mastiff? who knows? I just saw one and thought "you know, Angela. You need another dog right now. A ginormous ass dog that drools and has turds the size of your kids. You need a dog that looks ferocious but actually just lays there like a bump on a log. Just like you are! Ferocious looking but lazy! And also it needs to be black. Why, black? Don't know. Just get on that woman." So I'm gonna do that. because I listen to my instincts. I always have. And so far my instincts have often been really good. Or really really bad. But either way...good stories and lessons learned.

And that is what I am going to do with my brilliant ideas. More to come.

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

I have never posted about herpes this much and it is actually mildly relevant.

I'm not going to lie. I'm drinking a cranberry and vodka right now. I probably won't even spell check this. I'm lying again. I totally will and I will read it again and again and again to check for errors and things that might make me look stupid or don't feel right or whatever. That's right...Duh duh duh...

OCD has flaired.

A lot like herpes without the gross. Although sometimes I think it might be easier to explain a herpes flair up as opposed to an OCD flair up. i could just be all "yeah, don't have sex with that guy. lesson learned" instead of "OK, I can't really say this word out loud I'm sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, and i can't get through my inventory right now because I can't seem to write it down right and it feels wrong and everything in this room is screaming to be touched in the right way because right now it feels wrong and I can't clean my house because i might do it with a bad attitude and give it negativity and i can't paint my house because of all the damn touching I need to do and that would give the room bad energy" FYI: extranious touching is also what can lead to herpes which I know now because my mom felt as though I needed that lecture now that I'm single. Another story...another day.

Anywhatever...I tried painting. Didn't work. I ended up just laying around with my awesome friends and boyfriend. Last night, I was going to go out and be all social and meet new people. I dreaded it all day. I was obsessed with the drive and the people and my outfit and what would I say and dear baby Tim Tebow I cannot stop effing touching shit because it all just feels wrong wrong wrong wrong. So instead, my awesome boyfriend (see how much I like that word) dropped his plans, came to my side and gave me the option of doing anything i wanted to do. We could try to go be around people or try and paint. I chose instead to have a creepy little OCD freak out and we went to bed around 7:30. It was definetly the best choice.

And then I couldn't sleep on account of all the crazy flooding in my brain and I obsessed over why it is that i even have friends let alone a boyfriend who may actually really love me and how did this all happen so fast because in case anyone missed it i am a whack job that touches things. although maybe that explains the boyfriend part. MOM: THAT WAS A JOKE AND I DON'T HAVE HERPES.

So these are the days that i remember that i have an illness. I have Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. Like, I have it. Forever. in the past couple months I've been able to call it stress and trauma and the absolute destructiion and rebuilding of my entire life as i knew it. Now, I'm just the lady with OCD again. And there are all these new people seeing it for real for the first time. Not stress, like I said, and not danger and depression and fighting for survival, but straight up OCD. This is how it is sometimes. I'm not like other people. Not really.

And so, tonight I did paint. and I'm probably done for the night not necessarily because of the OCD but because of the lazy that I also am. But I have no medical diagnosis for that. I want to sit in my newly created safe place in my home, MY home, and watch a movie. I want to enjoy my drink and my dogs and my life. I'm going to leave all of the jewelry on the table because i'm afraid that if I put it away it will get lost or have negative energy on it or whatever. I'm gonna allow myself to have OCD but I'm not going to allow OCD to have me. I'm going to take this flair up as a reminder of how far i've come and how successful I've been. i'm going to use this flair up to remember that everybody gots them some problems. I'm going to use this flair up to be thankful that it isn't herpes. because that is contagious if you touch any body part to any body part with out using protection. thanks for that advice, mom. And also for the incredibly disturbing mental images of herpes after your brilliantly crafted explanations. I'm gonna sleep. And tomorrow i'll wake up with OCD. but maybe it won't be so rampant.

Sunday, December 11, 2011

I'm Angela. I turn clumsy mistakes into life lessons. Because I am a genius. And I've had so much therapy that I can do that kind of thing now.

I just shattered that plate in my microwave.

You know, the spinny one that you put things on and it rotates around on that little wheel thing and sometimes it gets all knocked out of line and makes this "whiirrrrrrr.....Thunk...whiiirrrrrrrr...Thunk" and then I'm all "damn, that stupid thing is all tripped out of alignment and I need to get up and fix it or my nachos/frozen dinner/coffee/awesomer nachos are gonna get all dumped and heated all crooked and then I'm gonna get all burned and have a mess to deal with" and then by the time I finally talk myself into rolling off the couch the stupid thing is already beeping that it's done anyway and I give up thunking plate in the microwave. You win!

That plate. I shattered it. And it was spectacular.

I wasn't trying to break it. It wasn't my intention. I just was trying to turn over the defrosting meat because the microwave was literally SCREAMING at me to do so, or otherwise my meat might explode or something (hehehe exploding meat) so I was just obeying orders. And the plate, sensing my animosity towards it, literally leapt from the microwave and hurled itself directly towards my feet. So I jumped and danced around accessing my cat-like reflexing so it missed my foot.

It was amazing. It was loud and musical and art and sparkle and danger and I swear it was all in slow motion. Spec-freaking-tacular. So then, I decided that it needed to be cleaned up. Quickly. Because I am responsible. And everyone knows that doing things quickly is the grown-up way to do things. And I'm a grown-up now. And it was so sparkly on the floor and and it made such a pretty tinkly sound (hehehe tinkle) and damn if smashing things isn't totally cathartic. And the blood made such pretty dashes of color. And even I vacuumed some. But I still kept stepping in glass. I smashed it real good.

So now, what do I do because as true as there is a baby Jesus, I cannot possibly be the only one who has ever done this. I most definitely did it with the most flair, but surely not the only one ever. Should I try and replace it? Right away? Like is this a justifiable expense? Should I just leave it be because I never really liked that stupid thing anyway? Should I use that ring deal with the tiny wheels on it to make some kind of anti-intruder ninja tool? Because I'm a single lady now. There will be no raping up in here in my house. Or stealing or extraneous drinking of my beer, which incidentally is a justifiable expense.

So here's what I decided to do...because I rule...I'm now giving you...a life lesson. Kinda like Jesus. The grown-up version not the baby one.

My life, as you probably know even though I never talk about it, was recently shattered. Suddenly. Spectacularly. In a way that I didn't even know was motherfracking possible. It was sudden and loud and dangerous and bloody and music and art and destruction. It'd probably been making a thunking noise for some time but maybe I didn't notice. So it hurled itself at me with such force as to cause me to completely re-route my entire life.

So what do I do? Do I replace it? Do I do that right away? Do I find something exactly the same or something completely different because obviously the first one didn't work? Do I use the ring to make an awesome ninja tool so that there is no raping. I could probably make all kinds of neat stuff with that stupid little ring. Diamonds are the hardest substance after all.

Right now I'm making due. No permanent plans to replace anything. In fact, I don't think the shattered plate needs needs an upgrade. I'm still gonna step on glass every now and then, because that things shattered into every possible corner of my life/kitchen/please keep up with my metaphor. I'll keep picking up little pieces that I forgot, found when they unexpectedly make me bleed. I'll try to keep it safe for my kids so that they don't bleed. I'll probably burn my popcorn a time or two since things aren't spinning exactly the way they were. I'll figure out some way to make it work.

And in the long run, I've learned my lesson. Be careful. Things are gonna break anyway. Clean it up. Move on. And eventually all my nachos will be evenly melted again. This to even better.

Monday, December 5, 2011

I need help focusing.

OK. So I got all rant-ish and wild eyed. I'm better. Well, you about as better as crazy can be. Because FYI I'm still an awesomely chemically imbalanced individual. On with the show.

I'm in my home. I have no rituals here. Yet. I keep trying to start them. Then I stop. Then I try and do it again. This house is bigger and has way the frack more light switches. And the fun part is that about half of the light switches do something. and the ones that do something don't do at all what you expect them to do. SO it's like a game of friggin' Simon everytime I walk into a room and try to remember what order to turn switches. In other news, I'm getting so good at doing things in the dark. In other other news, no they don't go to the outlets.

I made my first mortgage payments, bitches! Yeah yeah! So I'm starting to feel like this might actually work. Like the whole, grocery shopping and eating on a regular basis and getting out of bed and paying bills and cleaning house. I've discovered that if I clean the house because I want to, it's a lot more satisfying then doing it for anyone else. Weird, right? I'm such a giver. To myself.

I have an appointment with new witch doctor soon! I'm terrified. I've been with the same psychiatrist and therapist for years. They both know me. So now I have to start over. And the same questions are poking me in the cranium...What if I'm a total loss? What if they make me do more ERP? What if I am just too damn charming and witty and they think I'm faking? What if I touch all kinds of stuff in the office? What if I have to re-tell my life's stories? I don't want to. There are some things that I'm just done talking about.

In things you have probably figured out by now unless you are just not paying attention news... I don't go to church anymore. Right now at least. There was an incicident. Similar to the incident at the former church I attended. So what I learned from the last time was, don't fight who I am, just walk away. So I walked away. And that is all. Sometimes I think Jesus is seriously messing with me. Because the only person ever ever who has never ever questioned who I am is Jesus, yet everywhere I go to be around other people who know Jesus, they totally don't get me. And feel as though I need to be made aware of that. Oh really? Me? Not like how everyone else does things? Neat. I know. Maybe your first clue should have been when I opened the door to the building only after molesting it with my wrist multiple times. Or that I can only sit where there are an even number of seats to my left.

I watch scary movies to fall asleep at night. This is probably some kind of psychologically deep rooted wires crossed issue. I don't care. nothing helps me relax like Paranormal Activity.

I think I've lost the ability to make coherent posts. This is how I communicate now. you are welcome.

Friday, December 2, 2011

A month. I've been avoiding you. That better not be your Silver Lining.

It's been a month since posting anything. Yes, I have been really busy. I moved, I work, I practice, I unpack, I paint walls and fix rooms and take care of kids and drive and try to settle in. But also...

I've relapsed.

And I'm avoiding you because I haven't wanted to talk about it. Because it sucks ass.

So, I've been busy with all those things, but also, I've been quitting at things and fighting with my ex who is now officially my ex as of the 15th, I've been busy being bitter and angry and hurt and crying a lot and having intense mood swings. I've been busy trying not to lose the other job that I didn't quit due to being unfocused and under productive because of all the stress. I've been missing my kids when they aren't with me and hating hating hating holidays. But what's new.


I'd like to start a Silver Lining Series. Meaning, I am seriously going to try and find good and positive and funny things to talk about. because APPARENTLY I AM TOO VOCAL ABOUT MY LIFE. Which is one of those stories that I need to tell and find the silver lining in. I'm working on it right now.

So let's start here. I GOT ME A NEW BOYFRIEND! And I love him. I know it seems all fast and unforeseen and what the hell and all that, but then again, that's kind of how my marriage ended so I'm sticking with what I know. He is funny and smart enough to make up his own words. And the awesome part is that I am actually getting to the point where I don't actually even notice that it isn't a real word because I'm used to processing his hybrid English. And usually I can even instantly tell which all words he mushed together to make the new word. AND he doesn't even do this on purpose. It just happens. Which is really keeps me on my toes. And right now, he makes me happy. And makes me laugh. And understands exactly the situation I am in because he has lived it. Except the mental illness part. I'm totally giving him a crash course in that. If I can't make him go "Holy shit!" at least once every couple days then I feel like I need to ramp up my crazy bag!

And this is the Silver Lining to having my life cut off in the middle of where I thought it should be; If I was never hurt as badly as I was, I never would have felt the urgency to run from that marriage, and I never would have met Dual.

But, I am still motherfucking pissed. I am so damn angry all the time. Sometimes I am angry to the point of feeling actually sick. I am not able to string together enough curse words to express how pissed I am at the betrayal. At the childish, selfish, thoughtless, heartless, shit that I was stabbed in the back with. I am angry. Can you tell? So this is what I do...I have these really cool mood swings. Where like sometimes I'm all "Oh, hey the divorce is final and I'm totally cool with him and his girlfriend and everybody is awesome and let's all go get a beer and double-freaking-date." and then like two days later I'm like "I know what would be the best idea ever! I'll write an email because I am sad and I miss my life and I'm hurt and I'll pour out my soul because surely that'll make him feel guilty and awful and he'll totally fall apart, which let's be real here, wouldn't be the worst thing in the world for me. He deserves as much pain as I have." and THEN...I turn super super awesome, usually after having been ignored or condescended to or whatever and I'm all "Oh yeah. I'm gonna email that sonofabitch how I really feel. And then I'm gonna text him and then I'm gonna call his worthless ass and completely rip him apart and THEN I'll write another email detailing how horrible he is and also send it to his girlfriend. Because that idea is the BEST" And then Dual goes "Holy Shit!" Winning!

So then I did that. Yep. Hold your applause. Not my best day. But I lost it. And yes, the email went to her too. The texts were only for him, but that's only because Dual being the more rational and less nuts of the two of us pretty much took my phone away. Not really, but he definelty was the voice of reason. So damage done, feelings "vented" and I feel better. Should I feel better? I don't know but i do. What would Jesus do? Probably not call him a fuckass whore over the phone. But I did. Would the two of them breaking up please me to no end? The sweet Christ-like girl in me doesn't want ill will but the dark hurt part of me wants nothing more than to see that "relationship" fall to pieces. I'd feel better. Do I hate him? Feels like it. Do I hate her? ABSOLUTELY NOT. As a female I feel much more inclined to be protective of her, but on the other hand I do hate what she was actively involved in doing to me behind my back. And as a female, I feel more betrayed by her than anyone else. She was a wife. She knows what that feels like. And she pursued my husband anyway. I'm hurt. But I don't hate her. I feel very sad for her. I just feel like I want to punch him in the balls. Did I text him hateful things when I had to leave my kids with him because he was selfish and had an affair so now I only get to see my kids every other week and they were crying and clinging on to me? Yeah. Didn't help a damn thing, but I felt better. Who is selfish now, I guess.

Anyhowdon'tjudgemebecauseImightvomitupcrazyalloveryou...I'm trying so hard to not become a bitter old hag. I'm really trying hard to give my attention to my new life and my progress and my new relationships. I'm really working hard to keep OCD behind that wall. Because it's back there going " know know how to be are so good at can't fail at OCD because it's the only thing you've ever really excelled at...come's's's what you know how to do..." I'm trying hard to find things to laugh at. I'm trying hard to accept that now that I live alone I talk to myself out loud. All the time. And not talk to my dogs out loud. I talk to myself. It's like my inner monologue just turns off as soon as I get home. Oh, and I'm home. Silver Lining...this is my home. Not my new house and not my new home. It's my home. I belong here.

So PLEASE hang in there with me. PLEASE go back and read things from when I used to be able to find humor. And I'll get there again. Someday this is all going to be hilarious. Especially the fuckass whore part. I'm already giggling about that one right now.

i promise not to avoid you anymore. I'll be here with the good, bad, and wildly foul-language laced inappropriate.