Thoughts for the Days

So my wonderful Myspace friend, Fiona, sends out a Thought for the Day every day. Somehow they are always right on target, in fact, often eerily so. Here is one from a couple of days ago:



Um, yes, less joyful is a nice way to put it.

But every time I read one of her bulletins, and think about how appropriate it is for me to get this message, at this moment in time, I start to wonder about our connection to the cosmos. Is there "something" out there that knows more than me, that knows when I need a message like this one, or an unexpected email or phone call, and makes sure I get it? Lately it seems so. I keep hearing just the right song at the right moment, or having two or three people send me exactly the same thought or idea, and I really take it to heart. But if that's the case, if some power from beyond is looking out for me and signaling me the right way to go, then why doesn't "it" go a step further and send me what I really need? Because all this hinting around, all these gentle pushes in the right direction, just end up frustrating me. What happened to me in October is much bigger than me. It's much more than I can fight alone. I need more than subtle hints; I need a real concrete solution.

I realized a few days ago that what happened between me and P. was so big that it requires big action. Going to therapy, going to group, reading about how to forget, how to forgive, how to accept, how to live in the moment...all these things are good positive moves in general, and are in fact, helpful for living life to the fullest and remaining healthy and strong. But I need something more. I can't move through and beyond the pain and sense of loss simply by accepting it; it's just not happening. I try to sit through the sadness. I end up still sad. I try to forbid myself from thinking about him. I still think about him. I tell myself he was an asshole to leave me the way he did. I still want him. I look at all his faults. I still miss him. None of my theraputic gestures has made me feel any different about P. than I did all along. I still love him. So I've got to do something drastic. I'm looking at several options.

Option number one: go to a psychic healer. I know nothing about psychic healers, but it's worth a shot. I'm to the point where an exorcism seems like a good idea, in fact.

Option number two: go to Sedona, Arizona, or Glastonbury, or one of those other places with strong vibrations. Maybe just by being in a very heavy place, I'll have a breakthrough of some sort, and know how to live without him, or how to get him back in my life.

Option number three: total and permanent change of scenery, like moving to Hawaii or something. I'm on the job market, and can technically go wherever I want to , if I can get a job there. The problem is, of course, the children. I can't take them too far away from their dad, but I so need to leave Atlanta, Athens, the southeast...I'd love to just give it all up and go away. Alone.

In the meantime, I continue to read, take long walks, think about (and sometimes even attempt) writing my dissertation. But in truth I'm just killing time. Waiting. For what? I don't know. But things aren't progressing as I had hoped they would. Damnit.

Peripheral Paul

I last spoke to Paul on the phone on Tuesday, December 4. That’s three weeks and three days ago. I haven’t called him. I haven’t texted him. I haven’t emailed him. I haven’t seen him. I have no idea what he is doing with his life. Does it feel good? Sometimes. Do I still miss the hell out of him? Of course. Do I still think about him? Um…what do you think? But lately I catch myself spending actual time spans not thinking about him at all. So far I’m up to about 20 minutes of uninterrupted no-Paul time. It is amazing. I am able to enjoy spending time with someone, going to lunch with my kids, shopping with my mom. I am making real strides in myself and how I see and treat others. It’s an uphill battle, full of tears and regret, but I am coming out of the darkness.

My dear friend C. told me today when I gave her this exciting “three weeks and three days” news that popular wisdom says it takes 21 days to form a habit. So what does this mean for me? Though I am not over him, I am now in the habit of not having contact with Paul. I am living my own life and I am healing. Soon I’ll make it to an hour without thinking about him. One day I’ll get to a whole afternoon without thinking about him. Then maybe an entire day. I look forward to that time. But these three weeks mark a turning point for me. Paul is moving to the periphery of my life, of my reality, of my soul. I still love him. Duh. I always will. But I can live life without him, as unnatural and weird as it seems. I don’t want to, but I have to. It is what it is, as someone used to always tell me.

I have a new love interest in my life. He will remain nameless, because I really don’t know where any of this is going, or if I even want it to, but I have a thing for someone. That is huge. I have to be sure it isn’t some kind of rebound, however, so I am not going to say anything more. Except that I refuse to pursue a relationship until I know that I can do it cleanly and honestly. I refuse to put anyone else through the confusion and lack of direct communication that I threw at Paul. This time I am going to do things right. So I am taking my time and not really doing anything with him, except watching. Having never been a “keep calm and don’t push it” kind of gal, this feels very freaky. But it’s the only way to live. I can’t make anything happen; I can’t make anything not happen. I am getting very good at going with the flow, and seeing where it leads. It’s too late for the person I wish I could have done it with, but it’s not too late for me. And maybe for my new man.

But you know what? It's total rebound. I don't even have to think about it. I can't pursue something new when I still miss Paul like a runaway freight train. I was browsing photos looking for one to put on this post and just seeing this one, taken in December 2004 in Athens, fills me with amourousness and warm feelings for him. He's my soul mate and it's gonna take a lot longer than three weeks to start anew with someone else. So the love interest may just have to chill for a while. Oh well, he won't know the difference anyway.

Happy Friday, peeps.

Instant Karma

The more I think about this situation, the sicker I get. Can you believe ANYONE could love someone as much as Paul said he loved me and then treat me like a piece of dirt?

So I'm not thinking about it any more. I had planned to come on here today and address one by one the issues the Jolly Green Giant brought out in her nice email to me, but I decided, why the fuck bother? He has "chosen" her; good riddance to bad rubbish, or whatever the saying is. A friend of mine posted a comment yesterday on my last entry, saying "Wipe the dirt off your boots and haul the trash to the curb." I am doing just that. Another friend said "Just picture him sitting in her living room, listening to her shrieking voice with the snot-nosed toddler crying in the background...he's already paying for what he did." Even the brief maternal replacement she represents now, the free pot, and the what's-gotta-be-boring-as-shit sex (after what he and I had) are not gonna make up for the hell he's just entered. I can find solace in that.

So instead, today I am starting over. I have a new phone, with no memories of his voice, his text messages, or the pain he caused me attached to it. I threw away all the birthday cards, Valentine's Day cards, just-because-I-love-you cards, anything he wrote and gave me...I mean "Frenchie"...cause that person doesn't exist anymore. I actually went to the top of Stone Mountain this afternoon and threw the silver locket he gave me for our first Christmas together - three years ago this December - which had a picture of him inside and has been my prized piece of jewelry for these past years, off the mountain. That was hard, but felt really good. I'm working on clearing out all the photos we ever took together as well as the million emails he sent me over the years, too. That might take longer, but I'll get there.

Today I told my therapist "I woke up for the first time in weeks without that knife-in-the-heart feeling. I think Paul has moved 1/4 of an inch further to the back of my brain." It feels good.

Today I also realized the real reason I hesitated getting a divorce, which was a kind of ton of bricks moment. You see, I spent the day with my twelve-year-old son, who's been home from school sick all week. We were riding in the car and suddenly I looked in the rear-view mirror at him and it hit me: "You saved him, Julie." It's true...the reason I didn't get divorced before now is that I KNEW Paul was bad news for my children. Actually accepting that thought into my psyche was incredibly freeing. But I did it. I allowed myself to really look at how he was with them, and it was huge.

Every time Paul was with my children he paid them the most minimum of lip service, then brushed them off. That is, when he wasn't getting drunk and yelling at Nicholas. He showed no interest in them as individuals whatsoever, but made token attempts at being their mentor by talking about what he would do with them one day...the eternal "one day"...build them a treehouse, teach Nick about music, show him "how to be a man" (holy fuck, that's a good one...I know more about how to be a man than Paul does), teach Rosie how to play the harmonica. I sometimes think he honestly believed he was capable of these things, but I always knew once he "had" me, it would all blow away, like the hot air that it was in reality. He wanted in - in my house, in my life, in my bed, in my warmth - but with none of the responsibilities that come with an honest, mature relationship. His way of operating - telling others "You go fix what's wrong, then come back. I might take you back and I might not," or "You hurt me. I was innocent in everything that I did. I won't talk to you about it, I just don't ever want to see you again" would never fly with me and my children. He's sad, truthfully, because he has no idea how to live or how to love another person. Just look at what he did to his daughter. But that's a whole 'nother story.

Okay, so maybe I haven't moved on so much. But I'm realizing that before this summer, I instinctively knew something wasn't right with Paul and his approach to the world. That is why I stayed married, as some kind of protection for my kids, I think. But what happened is that he played me, perfectly, since he knows how to manipulate even the smartest of us. By enforcing our separation over the summer, he made me miss him, want him, regret my actions and see myself as the bad guy and him as the victim. He put me in the position of the guilty party, and I bought it hook, line and sinker. So I think the last few weeks of agony for me have been a result of looking at him through those warped lenses, the ones I wore all summer, rather than through the truthful lenses that I had worn prior to our separation, in which he was bad news for my kids.

Don't get me wrong - I seriously wanted a real, deep, honest relationship between the two of us. I loved that man more than I've ever loved anyone before. But I think way down deep inside I knew that he was nothing but trouble for me and for my family dynamics. Had it just been the two of us, it might have worked, but never with my children involved. Since I have to be a mom AND a lover, it could never work. He doesn't know how to share, and no matter what he says about me and the kids being a "package deal", the kids would have been forced into second place. Paul always has to be number one.

So I guess in the end I'm starting to see the whole situation a little more realistically. Maybe that's the first step of healing.

Therapy

Well I've decided to go back into therapy on a regular basis. I've been feeling very scattered, very scared, kind of like my heart is being ripped out over and over. I realized things were getting out of control and that I couldn't handle them by myself; I was going to make a bigger mess of things than they already were. I called for help.

It was a wise move on my part. I like my new therapist. She is young, pretty, has fabulous warm eyes and great shoes. She told me lots of good stuff that I hadn't even thought of. First thing: "You are holding up remarkably well given all the crap you're going through." Thank you for noticing. She also said that this was a period of real loss, and lots of it. I told her I hadn't looked at it that way but she was totally right. The loss of my dad still hasn't worn off, and I don't think I've really grieved for him. The loss of P. is downright tangible, and the ways he reminds me of Dad make that loss double. The fact that I have no real friend network - actual physical friends in town who I can stop in on and just talk, not you fabulous online friends - make the loss of P. triple, in fact, since he's been my person to lean on for so long. And lastly, the divorce, as much as I want it and am honestly looking forward to it, is nevertheless a loss. The family structure, fucked as it is, will be gone. The children will experience a loss. The entire experience is new and frightening. But that is where the good part comes in. She told me "You feel completely powerless. You can't do anything about P.'s decision. You can't stop the children from feeling hurt and scared. But you do have power. Be conscious of everything you do today and make it a moment of power. You chose to come here. You will choose to go to the lawyer today. View everything you do in a positive light, and don't forget you hold all the power over yourself." Then she told me to remember to eat, since I haven't been able to in about two weeks. She said to pamper myself, treat myself to stuff, go swimming, ask a friend to sit and talk with me. She said "Tomorrow I want you to go get a massage." I like her.

So as freaky as my life is right now, it's much better than it has been the last two months. Things are actually progressing. I am going to have my own family, a real, honest family. I will be able to say "my ex-husband" and have it be true. The strained and false family outings and dinners will be over. I will be single and clear of all deceit, and that feels wonderful. It's a whole new direction and a whole new life.

Oh. And I've hidden my cell phone. It is turned off and in a drawer in my bedroom. When I have gotten control of my texting compulsion I may take it back out. Or I may wait till the divorce hearing is over and I'm single. I haven't decided. But all you fans out there who may have tried to call me, you ain't gonna get me! Send an email, will ya?