Finding something worthwhile in myself

•November 13, 2013 • Comments Off on Finding something worthwhile in myself

It’s been pointed out to me, by my good friend in Hyde Park, that I’m sometimes awfully hard on myself. I truly am my own worst critic. And until he had pointed it out, I didn’t quite realize how often I put myself down or said something negative.

I’m working on this. And I’m sincerely a happier and nicer person than I was even a few months ago.

But now that I’ve moved home, I’m finding that I DO have an awful lot of extra time on my hands. I haven’t start my job yet, all my friends work during the day, and I’m left to myself. So I’m trying to find something that I’m good at…something to do to occupy my time. And I think I’ve finally come up with enough stuff to keep me busy throughout the day (aside from baking–which gets to be a major pain in the ass due to not having a dishwasher… I’ve started fixing up the rental house. Even if it’s not going to be mine permenantly, I can at least increase my happiness in where I live by making it nicer. And cleaner. And more organized).

No matter how many hours I devote to cleaning. To painting. To baking. To doing the routine chores everyday (do the dishes. do the laundry. vacuum. take out the trash. pick up after myself). I still find myself idle at night. With a lot of time to just sit and think about the situation.

How on earth can I express this opportunity in a positive way? It’s really hard. But I am ridiculously grateful to be on my own. Everything in this house is mine. Everything is decorated for me. And at the grocery store? I can buy what I want. I realized the other day that I haven’t had alfredo or vodka sauce in nearly 10 years. Not at home at least. Maybe when I go out to eat….

It’s because I put so much effort into making him happy. Getting his opinion. Giving up certain things because that’s what you do in a marriage.  I just can’t help but feel like I gave up a piece of myself in that. Was it as obvious to everyone else that I was miserable in my marriage? And just uncertain in life?

Was it obvious to everyone else that he wasn’t my forever? That we weren’t in love?

Was it as obvious to everyone else that my heart is just aching for someone else and I’m forcing myself to get over it?

Being an adult is trying at times. Being alone as an adult is harder for me. I was describing to the same friend mentioned above that what I miss is caring for someone. Someone who means something to me. I miss meaning something to someone as well. The late night hugs that seem endless. Someone you don’t want to pull away from. I miss forehead kisses. Someone smelling my hair. Someone touching my skin. My neck. My cheek. I miss the caring feeling that comes with being attached.

I know. Be alone. Concentrate on you. Concentrate on just appreciating and focusing on you.

But I think I’m made to be with someone. To care. To have a family.

Geezus christ, is it too late to start getting serious about someone? Is it even possible for someone to overlook my past (the cheating, the abortion, the uncertainty) and just forgive me? And let me start over and show them that I’m someone worthwhile again?

 

I guess it’ll happen when it happens. Trying to embrace these moments of melancholy.

Picking Up the Pieces

•November 6, 2013 • Comments Off on Picking Up the Pieces

Last year I got pregnant.

Last year I made the worst decision of my life and got an abortion.

This year, everything has changed.

After falling for IT Guy, having my heart get pulled and snapped (he didn’t want me in return. I offer no blame to him, as he never told me he wanted me. We just sort of used each other I guess…), I’ve just sort of started over. For myself.

I left my husband. I moved back “home.” I left my good-paying job, and just got another one. I’m starting over and picking up the pieces.

Starting over is hard. Having people say they understand. That they think I’m brave. That I’m able to change so easily. That I’m not afraid of the outcome or the unknown. That I’m making a smart decision. And then on the flipside, having my husband tell me that he misses me. That he can’t wait to move out here. And I realize he doesn’t get it. He hasn’t changed.

And I wonder if I’ll ever meet someone who just cares about me for me. That won’t judge me on my past mistakes. That will love me without holding back. That will just take it slow and understand all of me is worth it.

Someday I guess. Just not right now. I just need to concentrate on me. Pick up the pieces. One at a time.

Irritating

•November 5, 2013 • Comments Off on Irritating

I have dreams. About someone I desperately want to forget.
Someone that made me vulnerable. Made me care for him. And made me feel embarrassed for who I was.

I have dreamt about him four times since I’ve been back. Seriously, sucks.
But as I’ve been told, point blank, “Well, he doesn’t seem to want to date you now, does he?”

No. And it couldn’t be more crystal clear. But when the hell can it at least lighten up a bit?
It’s not even something I’m controlling at this point. Fucking subconscious bullshit.

I’m Not Sure What They See…

•November 5, 2013 • Comments Off on I’m Not Sure What They See…

It’s the comments that get to me. The opinions that are dished out left and right from folks who mean well.

“I’ll pay to have him move out here with you.”
“He’s going to be in your life somehow, I just know it.”
“I’m having a hard time sleeping. I miss you.”
“He was a jerk.”
“Of course you’re going to want him back. It gets better after time.”
“Well,  he sure as hell doesn’t want to date you now, does he?”
“It’s not over. It’s just not anything right now.”

And then the silence.

Everyone is a critic. It’s so easy to make a comment about someone else. Without realizing how it affects someone.

I left my husband almost exactly a month ago. I spent four weeks separating his from hers, mine from yours, us from them. I fought over who got a stupid pan. A pan. I’m embarrassed.

I left a good paying job.

I moved a thousand miles away.

And I started it off alone. And while I may have gotten a few messages from folks who looked up to me for doing what they couldn’t… I got even more messages questioning why I would ruin my own marriage. Why I was making the decision I was making. Why I wasn’t trying my hardest.

When is it ok to re-evaluate your life and make changes? For happiness?
For some, apparently never.

I AM happy. I’m also lonely, scared, confused, disappointed, and excited.
I’ve been judged by a select few, and I just have to keep telling myself that I’m worth making these changes. The hell with whether they want to date me, be friends with me, consider me family, or other…

You really do have to start caring about yourself at some point in life. I just feel like I missed out on a lot in the past 10 years. Where to even start to pick up the pieces?

When Does It Get Better?

•February 24, 2013 • Comments Off on When Does It Get Better?

I’ve been told it will get better. I’ll start to understand. I’ll start to find answers. I’ll start to know what I want.But when does all this happen? When am I finally going to just be 100% free of this cloud?

Some nights are just horrible. And tonight is one of them. In tears. On the couch. Asking him to just go away. To just leave me alone and let me be by myself.
And him angry because he’s been so blind.

I’m irritated over so many things. Big and small. From how he can’t handle finances, how he can’t leave the house and be in a public space, about how he can’t travel or go to the movies, visiting friends, going shopping, not worrying 24/7. Then how he’s always sick. Refuses to see a doctor. Complains and bitches about all docs regardless of what they say. Bitches about work. Bitches about friends. Talks down about his family. Talks down about the news. About what people are like. Just a big ball of negativity that is constantly following me around.

I can’t get him to touch me and listen to what I want. I can’t get him to kiss me and not pull away within a second. Can’t get him to hold my hand, to linger at a touch, to be rough in bed, to take a shower with me. It’s never there.

And I feel like such a failure as a wife. As a woman. As a friend.

That I am so unhappy with all this. And just want an out. Want something easier and happier in life. Want to concentrate on me and my future….

What the hell is happy?

How can you find it?

When you’re in tears. Alone. Thinking about how to separate his from hers. This from that. Where to go. Who to talk to. Trying to figure out who actually cares about me for me…

I’m so overwhelmed. And just…want a friend who is separated from the drama of it who cares. A family member who just understands this….

Tonight is a lonely night. When does it get better?

Being Blunt

•February 20, 2013 • Comments Off on Being Blunt

Why do you think that people, in general, can’t be honest with one another?

Is there a reason someone can’t approach someone else and say, “I only want you for sex”?

Is there a reason someone can’t say, “I like you… but my moral code refuses to let me date someone who has royally screwed up in a relationship. And been divorced.”

Or, “You live too far away. I’d consider dating you if you lived closer.”

Maybe even, “I really care about this other person. And I’m waiting for her. She’s the only one in my eyes and I don’t want to give you false hope. Nothing will happen with us because she’s mine.”

In my heart… yeah. It sucks to not be wanted. I WANT to be wanted. And I’ve never really felt this before. But I can’t change this. And I’d be a fool to try. But I think what makes this worse for many women and men who are smitten with someone…is that the other person isn’t straight forward. Or blunt.

And it’s because they’re being too darn nice and don’t want to hurt your feelings. I’d rather be hurt. Then it sort of makes all this healing go faster, and allows me to never wonder, “what if…”

On Confidence: Sheer and Tight and Tall

•February 20, 2013 • Comments Off on On Confidence: Sheer and Tight and Tall

There’s something about it being sheer.
Stockings. Panties. Bras.
In a light pink. Or black. Or his favorite color.

There’s something about old-fashioned panty hose
That hits you at the waist.
That has seams perfectly straight down the back of the legs.

There’s something about tall black heels.
Patent. Lengthening. And worn everyday.
Sometimes in the bedroom.

That creates a confidence in me that makes me happy.
And feel like a woman.
Like any guy wants me.
Like I can get the guy I want.

There’s just something about getting back to the feminine basics.
And then having them all torn off in the heat of the moment.