Kinda blah morning....was so peaceful having the house to myself - ended up watching movies till 4:00 a.m! And then this also happened - baby slept all through from 10:00p.m. - 5:00 a.m. - really, I should have caught up on my own sleep but nooooo...
Because Ogre is not around, I'm happy to confirm I have zero drama to report - really, nothing at all.
Is this how regular happy folk feel - then I am so down for it. The last two sentences are a revelation right there - just realized I'm at ease, and at home. And who said blogging wouldn't help...Is this what no drama feels like? awe and wondrrr!
And yesterday I cried over Gray Matters - yeeaahhh. What was *that* about?
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Monday, April 26, 2010
Day 4: Hmmmmm
After being threatened by Ogre that I would get it rough, I made sure that on day 2 the house was full of anybody I could think of and had hoe down. Friday night - twas easy. Plied everyone with loads of booze - Ogre was pleasantly(?) surprised having taken the day off (that I'm not sure about because I went to the office and got back while he was still in his same house shorts and a tee) when guests started arriving and he was half dressed! Smalll victories - of course the larger victory was I couldn't get yelled at or worse when the house was full.
I think everybody had a good time - I woke up at eleven on day three, played some of our wedding songs, cried a little and went back to sleep. Don't know what THAT was supposed to achieve. Was I maybe hoping he would go back to being the sweet man I think I married? Actually what set off the tears is a picture of us on honeymoon in Paris tagged for our wedding album. Couldn't stop staring at it - it wrenched my heart - but I couldn't stop looking. So I cried. Day 2 ended like that - hungover, all cried out, alone. Progress on decision - none. Family Guy episodes watched - entire season 3.
Day Three was equally uneventful. Since I didn't sleep the previous night and tried to lose myself in family guy, baby woke up at a loose 6:30 a.m. Great. And boy was he in a talkative mood. Oh well..got up, fed him, changed him, put him in his play pen and tried to doze off - nothing..just fatigue.
Suddenly I remembered I was supposed to be meeting my brother and Mom for lunch that day - oh bugger. Ogre comes downstairs looking like he's ready for a fight...yawn...next. Ignore him and carry on watching telly. No words exchanged - he said hi to baby, slouched off.
Living with him feels *exactly* like it did when my brother was on drugs and it was just unbearable to be in the same house with him because you never knew what was coming your way. It's funny how when I left home and moved in with Ogre, I felt so safe and so happy and here I was - terrorized in my home again.
Took baby for a day out - slides, swings - felt good not to be in the house. Felt damn good.
Day Four:
Understand I can only blog from the office - the computer at home has a keylogger - so....yar, not an option using that machine....
I woke up feeling pretty damn fantastic. Since I am sleeping in the baby's room now - we had a bed in there with his cot, Ogre walked in around eleven and announced he was going out of town - this the conversation:
Ogre: I was going to let you find out on your own but I've just decided to tell you. I'm going out of town tomorrow.
Me: OK
Ogre exited stage left.
I cannot explain the joy - must be illegal to be this happy!! I had the house to myself - I didn't have to be scared of anybody when I got home!! Ahh - bliss. Return date was not announced - obviously will want to catch me off guard or whatever - whhhaaaatever!! ha ha ha!
And he left the key to the back door - which by the way has a chain on it like I'm some kind of dog..but how the fuck were we supposed to clean the balcony smart ass????
Meanwhile, having slept at 8:30 p.m., my eyes opened at 3:00 a.m. It was soo nice - that state between sleep and wakefulness, so cosy - so warm. Then I understood that I really didn't want to live with this person. I imagined myself in a house without him and I felt so great - not our house - it's rented he can stay there but I can rent my own place but it felt sooo good even just imagining it.
I read somewhere I should listen to my body if my mind makes no sense. Ogre = panic, no Ogre - relaxed. Sad but true.
So on day three:- I am happier when Ogre not around, I need to find a house. Now that bit fucking scared me - not sure if I can afford it? Telling myself to affirm with The Secret - Law of Attraction, you are exactly where you are meant to be at exactly that time and you have the unlimited resources of the universe. (Am I struggling to believe that?).Sigh...oh well, at the very least I have a couple of days free of the Ogre :-))
I think everybody had a good time - I woke up at eleven on day three, played some of our wedding songs, cried a little and went back to sleep. Don't know what THAT was supposed to achieve. Was I maybe hoping he would go back to being the sweet man I think I married? Actually what set off the tears is a picture of us on honeymoon in Paris tagged for our wedding album. Couldn't stop staring at it - it wrenched my heart - but I couldn't stop looking. So I cried. Day 2 ended like that - hungover, all cried out, alone. Progress on decision - none. Family Guy episodes watched - entire season 3.
Day Three was equally uneventful. Since I didn't sleep the previous night and tried to lose myself in family guy, baby woke up at a loose 6:30 a.m. Great. And boy was he in a talkative mood. Oh well..got up, fed him, changed him, put him in his play pen and tried to doze off - nothing..just fatigue.
Suddenly I remembered I was supposed to be meeting my brother and Mom for lunch that day - oh bugger. Ogre comes downstairs looking like he's ready for a fight...yawn...next. Ignore him and carry on watching telly. No words exchanged - he said hi to baby, slouched off.
Living with him feels *exactly* like it did when my brother was on drugs and it was just unbearable to be in the same house with him because you never knew what was coming your way. It's funny how when I left home and moved in with Ogre, I felt so safe and so happy and here I was - terrorized in my home again.
Took baby for a day out - slides, swings - felt good not to be in the house. Felt damn good.
Day Four:
Understand I can only blog from the office - the computer at home has a keylogger - so....yar, not an option using that machine....
I woke up feeling pretty damn fantastic. Since I am sleeping in the baby's room now - we had a bed in there with his cot, Ogre walked in around eleven and announced he was going out of town - this the conversation:
Ogre: I was going to let you find out on your own but I've just decided to tell you. I'm going out of town tomorrow.
Me: OK
Ogre exited stage left.
I cannot explain the joy - must be illegal to be this happy!! I had the house to myself - I didn't have to be scared of anybody when I got home!! Ahh - bliss. Return date was not announced - obviously will want to catch me off guard or whatever - whhhaaaatever!! ha ha ha!
And he left the key to the back door - which by the way has a chain on it like I'm some kind of dog..but how the fuck were we supposed to clean the balcony smart ass????
Meanwhile, having slept at 8:30 p.m., my eyes opened at 3:00 a.m. It was soo nice - that state between sleep and wakefulness, so cosy - so warm. Then I understood that I really didn't want to live with this person. I imagined myself in a house without him and I felt so great - not our house - it's rented he can stay there but I can rent my own place but it felt sooo good even just imagining it.
I read somewhere I should listen to my body if my mind makes no sense. Ogre = panic, no Ogre - relaxed. Sad but true.
So on day three:- I am happier when Ogre not around, I need to find a house. Now that bit fucking scared me - not sure if I can afford it? Telling myself to affirm with The Secret - Law of Attraction, you are exactly where you are meant to be at exactly that time and you have the unlimited resources of the universe. (Am I struggling to believe that?).Sigh...oh well, at the very least I have a couple of days free of the Ogre :-))
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Day 1 - Is everybody right?
Woke up today feeling a little bit normal. If the more miserable confusion a woman has in her head the more radiant and beautiful she is, then I need to be on a runway somewhere because I got quite a number of compliments today.
Anywho, wasn't feeling too depressed. Last night after five tequilas and four beers I drunktexted YH and he called me stubborn. Ego takes another blow...playing me is not the easiest. Tough - in my mixed up logic, a part of me was still happy he replied - and yes, I know how twisted that is, Freud would use me as an example...etc etc have a field day with that one.
So my friends think I'm in an abusive controlling relationship and I need to get out. I seriously lack the guts to leave that house. I'm afraid I will be ashamed to be divorced, ashamed of myself and unable to provide the stability my son needs. But staying in this tension and shouting no doubt is rubbing off on him too. Sometimes he raises his voice really loud and I feel like that's what he thinks is normal . Shit.
My job can sustain me and him. When we initially discussed the separation, Ogre agreed to pay for the fees and upkeep. God what am I waiting for? Why is it so hard to leave??? There's nothing to hold on to but I'm still there. All three friends I've spoken to (at different times and they all know a different me) think he's going to end up hitting me.
Ogre is trying to control me - I'm not allowed to get home after nine p.m. and I usually leave work at about eight p.m.. He shouts and insults me at every turn (cuss words, stupid, whore, bitch etc etc). My family is not spared either - not to their face but mine. This curfew is a recent development - like last Friday recent.
See, I love to go out and have a good time. I go out about three times a week (weekends included). He goes out too but gets home earlier than me - why? He's forty dammit. And been hard partying for twenty of those years, he's tired by eleven and goes home. I should mention in one evening, it rains a bottle of whisky with a scattering of beer. He stopped going out with me about four years ago because we had a fight once in a bar and he said he would never go anywhere with me again after that.
Fast forward four years and one kid later, I started going out with my friends again. He's still largely uninterested in going out with me. And at this point, Ogre = no fun time so anything I do with him is not a fun activity. The bedroom stories will come later - and yes, that included.
We went to a gay party, I was accused of flirting with a gay dude. The next weekend, his friends came over to our house for a party, he said I was flirting with his cousin. I went out last week, with my girlfriends and his female cousins. I got home about midnight. HUGE row in the morning - tells me I need to get home by nine o'clock from now and forever more, he is not taking my bullshit anymore, and I can either tow the line or else (and that's verbatim). I called him a forty-year old failure.So now he says there's no more us and that no man on earth would tolerate my behavior.Oh, I have a live in nanny for those of you wondering who was with my son.I have a full time job and so does he.
He's insulted me infront of our friends, calling me a whore and 'who-do-you-think-you-are', you're nothing without me - you get the drift. This happens at home, at their houses - and the ONE time we went out together in the spirit of working things out - a guy said hi and he said I disrespected him.
I'm going fucking nuts. I tried to make up to him this weekend, told him all this drama is unnecessary and that we still love each other, could we please move on?
I lied. I don't think I love this man anymore. I want to do right by my son and our families but it's getting too hard. I'm so afraid that if I do move out even on a trial separation, we will never get back together.
Goodness we're childish, but it looks like the cycle will never end. I'm so tired and stressed out for the last four months I'm just about ready to call it quits.
Can't leave, can't stay, what kind of fuckery is this?? Aarrrrggghhhhhh.
So, that's day one - no clarity, but a sense that everyone sees something different than I do, that I could be in deep shit if I don't make a move soon.
P.S. Not sure how many of you psychoanalysts who've got it all together - well, at least better than me can explain to me why I'm so fucking indecisive these days, can't make my mind up on anything let alone what font to use on this blog....and there's only six choices. Go figure. Deep down, this isn't my life is it? Could someone wake me up?
Anywho, wasn't feeling too depressed. Last night after five tequilas and four beers I drunktexted YH and he called me stubborn. Ego takes another blow...playing me is not the easiest. Tough - in my mixed up logic, a part of me was still happy he replied - and yes, I know how twisted that is, Freud would use me as an example...etc etc have a field day with that one.
So my friends think I'm in an abusive controlling relationship and I need to get out. I seriously lack the guts to leave that house. I'm afraid I will be ashamed to be divorced, ashamed of myself and unable to provide the stability my son needs. But staying in this tension and shouting no doubt is rubbing off on him too. Sometimes he raises his voice really loud and I feel like that's what he thinks is normal . Shit.
My job can sustain me and him. When we initially discussed the separation, Ogre agreed to pay for the fees and upkeep. God what am I waiting for? Why is it so hard to leave??? There's nothing to hold on to but I'm still there. All three friends I've spoken to (at different times and they all know a different me) think he's going to end up hitting me.
Ogre is trying to control me - I'm not allowed to get home after nine p.m. and I usually leave work at about eight p.m.. He shouts and insults me at every turn (cuss words, stupid, whore, bitch etc etc). My family is not spared either - not to their face but mine. This curfew is a recent development - like last Friday recent.
See, I love to go out and have a good time. I go out about three times a week (weekends included). He goes out too but gets home earlier than me - why? He's forty dammit. And been hard partying for twenty of those years, he's tired by eleven and goes home. I should mention in one evening, it rains a bottle of whisky with a scattering of beer. He stopped going out with me about four years ago because we had a fight once in a bar and he said he would never go anywhere with me again after that.
Fast forward four years and one kid later, I started going out with my friends again. He's still largely uninterested in going out with me. And at this point, Ogre = no fun time so anything I do with him is not a fun activity. The bedroom stories will come later - and yes, that included.
We went to a gay party, I was accused of flirting with a gay dude. The next weekend, his friends came over to our house for a party, he said I was flirting with his cousin. I went out last week, with my girlfriends and his female cousins. I got home about midnight. HUGE row in the morning - tells me I need to get home by nine o'clock from now and forever more, he is not taking my bullshit anymore, and I can either tow the line or else (and that's verbatim). I called him a forty-year old failure.So now he says there's no more us and that no man on earth would tolerate my behavior.Oh, I have a live in nanny for those of you wondering who was with my son.I have a full time job and so does he.
He's insulted me infront of our friends, calling me a whore and 'who-do-you-think-you-are', you're nothing without me - you get the drift. This happens at home, at their houses - and the ONE time we went out together in the spirit of working things out - a guy said hi and he said I disrespected him.
I'm going fucking nuts. I tried to make up to him this weekend, told him all this drama is unnecessary and that we still love each other, could we please move on?
I lied. I don't think I love this man anymore. I want to do right by my son and our families but it's getting too hard. I'm so afraid that if I do move out even on a trial separation, we will never get back together.
Goodness we're childish, but it looks like the cycle will never end. I'm so tired and stressed out for the last four months I'm just about ready to call it quits.
Can't leave, can't stay, what kind of fuckery is this?? Aarrrrggghhhhhh.
So, that's day one - no clarity, but a sense that everyone sees something different than I do, that I could be in deep shit if I don't make a move soon.
P.S. Not sure how many of you psychoanalysts who've got it all together - well, at least better than me can explain to me why I'm so fucking indecisive these days, can't make my mind up on anything let alone what font to use on this blog....and there's only six choices. Go figure. Deep down, this isn't my life is it? Could someone wake me up?
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
A Journal About Deciding Whether to Get Divorced
I don't know if I want a divorce, but I need clarity sooner rather than later.
I am giving myself 100 days from today to have made that decision, and this is intended as my journal towards that day, now defined as July 30, 2010.
Let's begin...
I'm no angel, I'm not looking for sympathy/advice or all of that - feel free to comment, I may or may not consider your comments. I need this out of me and I need anonymity and I need objectivity which I am not finding in myself. The journal has no historical order and things will be explained as relevant.
My situation right now. I'm a 31 year old woman, married for four years, I have a 1 and a half year old, son.
Day Zero:
I woke up today, the hurt/dread was still there - roughly a four out of ten. No whimpering, no tears - though there were some last night.
I had an affair at the end of last year which lasted all of three weeks, burnt white hot. This guy tried to take me for dinner for about two months, kept meeting him out, say hi and throw the card straight into the trash when I got home. Straight - no two thoughts about - like really now.
He is four years younger than me - now I know cougarism is hot right now - but really, was I there yet? I've known him for over seventeen years, our families were neighbors. I had no clue what had happened in his life and frankly I didn't care - but here he was, and it had to be that night.
Like every Catholic married woman you try to do the right thing because you should. So here I was in a club with my best friend and her girls, I'd had another mediocre row and they are all within a week, with my husband and he didn't like me going out with this particular girl - and HER husband let he go out as she wished. So my husband had said he was going out that night and it was about day three after the row so I asked him where he was, and the good wife piped up, oh I'm just round the corner -maybe we could meet for a quick drink and head home together. Immediately he said he's leaving. No surprise there. We were literally next to door to each other so I said I'd be there before he could finish his drink.
We drove in, sat down and ordered a drink. We could see the parking lot from where we stood and could also see him at the other end of the bar. He spotted us, left his drink, entered the car and left. I don't need to tell you what that felt like. One shot whisky. Something changes in his mind, he drives back in - his drink has not even been cleared, continues drinking it and sends me a text that me and my friends look pathetic - old women in the bar. No surprises again, second shot whisky and can I get a beer with that too?
At that precise moment, our young hunter (calling him YH from now on) shows up all bright-eyed and bushy tailed and absolutely refuses to leave the seat next to me. What the hell not, let's talk. Regular fun night, couple of laughs, nothing to write home about.
He would later tell me how that night was really sad how my husband and I were just a few feet away and not together. He couldn't understand that. It always sounds so bad when someone else breaks it down for you doesn't it?
YH now has extra info on me and finds me on..you guessed it..facebook - no comment about that.
He asks me out for dinner again, my husband was going out of town for work. Freedom woo hoo! No tension in the house - yay for me. After all, what could possibly happen. He know my status, didn't look available, wedding band check, mediocre fashion sense check, family history, check. I agreed.
Every-fucking-thing happened that night.
I laughed like I hadn't laughed before I was married. I looked into someone's eyes without having to answer the question you seem so sad. I smiled all through dinner. He looked at me like I was his world. Brown eyes, long lashes, slightly cross eyed. Told me stories about my past I couldn't even remember - about him trying to make me laugh because I liked to laugh, and he liked the sound of my laugh. Clearly I was too busy dating men like my husband the jock (calling him the Ogre from now on) to notice this crush. I got home that night and wished I could throw IT into the trash. I knew I was SCREWED. We went our separate ways that night.
Every-fucking-thing changed that night.
I am giving myself 100 days from today to have made that decision, and this is intended as my journal towards that day, now defined as July 30, 2010.
Let's begin...
I'm no angel, I'm not looking for sympathy/advice or all of that - feel free to comment, I may or may not consider your comments. I need this out of me and I need anonymity and I need objectivity which I am not finding in myself. The journal has no historical order and things will be explained as relevant.
My situation right now. I'm a 31 year old woman, married for four years, I have a 1 and a half year old, son.
Day Zero:
I woke up today, the hurt/dread was still there - roughly a four out of ten. No whimpering, no tears - though there were some last night.
I had an affair at the end of last year which lasted all of three weeks, burnt white hot. This guy tried to take me for dinner for about two months, kept meeting him out, say hi and throw the card straight into the trash when I got home. Straight - no two thoughts about - like really now.
He is four years younger than me - now I know cougarism is hot right now - but really, was I there yet? I've known him for over seventeen years, our families were neighbors. I had no clue what had happened in his life and frankly I didn't care - but here he was, and it had to be that night.
Like every Catholic married woman you try to do the right thing because you should. So here I was in a club with my best friend and her girls, I'd had another mediocre row and they are all within a week, with my husband and he didn't like me going out with this particular girl - and HER husband let he go out as she wished. So my husband had said he was going out that night and it was about day three after the row so I asked him where he was, and the good wife piped up, oh I'm just round the corner -maybe we could meet for a quick drink and head home together. Immediately he said he's leaving. No surprise there. We were literally next to door to each other so I said I'd be there before he could finish his drink.
We drove in, sat down and ordered a drink. We could see the parking lot from where we stood and could also see him at the other end of the bar. He spotted us, left his drink, entered the car and left. I don't need to tell you what that felt like. One shot whisky. Something changes in his mind, he drives back in - his drink has not even been cleared, continues drinking it and sends me a text that me and my friends look pathetic - old women in the bar. No surprises again, second shot whisky and can I get a beer with that too?
At that precise moment, our young hunter (calling him YH from now on) shows up all bright-eyed and bushy tailed and absolutely refuses to leave the seat next to me. What the hell not, let's talk. Regular fun night, couple of laughs, nothing to write home about.
He would later tell me how that night was really sad how my husband and I were just a few feet away and not together. He couldn't understand that. It always sounds so bad when someone else breaks it down for you doesn't it?
YH now has extra info on me and finds me on..you guessed it..facebook - no comment about that.
He asks me out for dinner again, my husband was going out of town for work. Freedom woo hoo! No tension in the house - yay for me. After all, what could possibly happen. He know my status, didn't look available, wedding band check, mediocre fashion sense check, family history, check. I agreed.
Every-fucking-thing happened that night.
I laughed like I hadn't laughed before I was married. I looked into someone's eyes without having to answer the question you seem so sad. I smiled all through dinner. He looked at me like I was his world. Brown eyes, long lashes, slightly cross eyed. Told me stories about my past I couldn't even remember - about him trying to make me laugh because I liked to laugh, and he liked the sound of my laugh. Clearly I was too busy dating men like my husband the jock (calling him the Ogre from now on) to notice this crush. I got home that night and wished I could throw IT into the trash. I knew I was SCREWED. We went our separate ways that night.
Every-fucking-thing changed that night.
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