a week

I am fully aware that my posts have been on the negative side lately. I don't know what, exactly, to blame it on. It is just where I am right now. Going through a lesson. Gosh darnit. I would LOVE to graduate from this course...today! It seems like I find myself in these lessons on a regular basis. I suppose this is why I am feverishly working with my therapist to figure out why things are always so complicated. And yes, that's exactly what he said last..."You are a complicated person." I don't know how to take that; however, I recognize that I am attracted to complicated people...people who have layers to peel back...people who have lived...and learned or are learning. It's just so much more interesting. So, if being complicated makes me interesting...than I'm cool with that.

As for the details of the complications...this is my week. If it were my day, I would have said that I should have just stayed in bed. But nooooo...it's the whole week and I don't think staying in bed for the week is an option. It started with an emotional twist- telling this man that I have fallen in love with over the last year that I can no longer play in this relationship. It's a long story, but it was for my best. I will go into detail another time. So, this had me in a foul mood to start. I cried at the drop of a hat and did everything within me to try and stick to my decision. My progress is questionable.

Work has been...well, somewhat depressing and hectic. Yesterday, I got the "reminder" memo for something that was due yesterday. Funny enough, it was no reminder to me. First I had heard of it. Apparently, the project was sent out to the RVP's and was supposed to make it into my inbox the first of January. Oops...someone failed to forward it. So the day, which was already filled with meetings, sales calls, and events- turned into a frenzied fury of number crunching, marketing plans, and mad dashes to meet a nearly impossible deadline (for someone who has 8 hours to do so). I made it. Only because I'm too competitive to allow for my plans to be the only ones in the region unsubmitted.

After finishing the project, around 11pm, I walked Chloe. We found a few of our neighbor dogs in the park for the final run of the day. Bonus. A little bit of play time before bed- excellent. Excellent unless you get into it with the neighborhood bully. My poor Chloe, who has tried to warn this dog that her bad attitude was getting on her nerves, fell victim to Morgan's attitude problem. After a few snarls and some serious stalking, Morgan bit Chloe's ear. My poor, sweet lab was bleeding like a stuck pig. I took her home, cleaned her up, disinfected and doctored it to the best of my amateur ability. She saw the vet today. She'll live...maybe with an ear tear (not pretty on a lady)...but she'll live.

This morning, I couldn't find my newly increased metro card. Yep, just put my monthly amount on it...and where it disappeared to- I have no idea. I ransacked my place, cleaned my purse, checked hi and low...to no avail. I figured I would use the two singles that I had and get a temp pass for the day. That would have worked had I not left my wallet on the table in my fury of a search. Dammit. No singles, no debit card, no nothing. I already walked the mile plus to get to the station. So, I scrounged $1.35 from every corner of my purse, pocket and briefcase. Then when I came home, I begged, borrowed, and stole from my colleagues.

This is my week. Thank God tomorrow is Friday...can I get an amen???? A. MEN. I am in surprisingly good spirits. I picked up two heads up pennies yesterday. I have high hopes for the weekend.

my head hurts. at the time, a bottle or two of wine seemed like the best idea. actually, i still think it was the best idea. now, time heals all wounds right? wine and time? i hope so. if i could hit fast forward, i would. instead, i'll work through it today. i'll keep reading the reminders that a good friend posted all over my place- on my walls, my clocks, my doors and mirrors, in my fridge, on the milk..."Don't Give In", they say. if i have to drink until the time passes- i will. if it keeps me from picking up the phone or answering the door, then a headache is better than heartache.

i don't know anything but what i feel...

i am angry, frustrated, disappointed, hurt, and regretful. i am strong, beautiful, independent, and brave. i am sensitive, loving, open, and vulnerable. i am fearful, protected, guarded by walls. i have so much to give and am still willing to give it. i have made it through so many hard times and i still remain hopeful and gracious. i can carry my pain and you will never know it exists or i can cry for days with enough tears to last through the sadness. i am a woman. i am strength and beauty. i am a friend, a sister, a daughter, a lover, a fighter, a tower of safety to those who need it. i know all of these things, but when my heart is broken, i only know what i feel.

it's okay to need a savior

I started talking to someone two weeks ago. We have met twice and will continue to meet on a weekly basis until I feel like I have gotten these things off my chest. Yesterday, we were digging through some of my childhood and then wading through details of my marriage. I guess, we were trying to figure out why I married him. I've asked myself that question, beat myself up over that question, for years. I have seen it as my greatest weakness...my inability to do what I knew was right, because of fear. I always thought I was so much stronger. It is disappointing.

After defining him as a sociopath and understanding that I was truly a child at the time (18 years old), he thought for a couple of minutes. When he broke the silence, he said, "What you needed was someone to save you. That's the only thing that could have changed your situation."

I hate to need. I hate to admit that I cannot do something. Perhaps that is why I have been so hard on myself for all of these years. When I heard him say that, I could only breathe a sigh of relief. It was the raw truth. And I accept it. I felt stuck because I was. I was trapped by his overwhelming manipulation and control. I wish I was stronger- but experience makes us stronger...and I was a child. I needed someone to save me and looking back now...I'm okay with that.

playing hookie

February 2, 2002- 7 years ago, I miscarried a little life. That tiny baby slipped through my body and landed in the toilet. Harsh, I know. The memory is so clear in my head that to this day, it brings a tear to my eye. I wanted to stand there and stare at this little thing that would've been my child. I wanted to scoop it out and save it- inspect his or her little body. I missed the opportunity that day. He walked into the bathroom- I was weak and crying. He flushed the toilet and just like that...it was gone. He didn't even ask. He didn't come to me first. I won't forgive him for that. I won't.

I know that that was meant to happen. I never would have been able to leave that monster. I would have been bound to him for the rest of my life. As a woman, though, every year- it is etched in my mind when I first open my eyes on this day. Today, my baby would be in school- or maybe on the way home. It's beautiful out today- maybe we'd go to the park and play. I don't know.

This day, every year, no matter where my life is- I am forced to take the day off from the present and relive that moment. Not my idea of playing hookie.