Worthy

I said I was going to keep this place from being a pity party and that I was going to write about all the funny things the kids do or maybe a funny rant every once in a while. I want to, and I’m honestly trying, but tonight I need to let it out. I’m on an emotional roller-coaster and at the moment, I’m sad. I know. You’re already rolling your eyes thinking this is going to be about the ex-boyfriend, and it is, but only to a certain level.

I am sad that I’m alone again, but the broken heart pain is starting to fade. When I really think about it, I know we weren’t right for each other, but I wanted it so bad that I tried to make it right. I think what it boils down to is feeling like if a man loves me that much, then I must be okay. I might even be worth it. Realizing this makes me want to scream in frustration, because it’s a part of the same feelings I’ve always had. Feelings I thought I had moved past, worked through, gotten over.

People say, “No one else can love you until you love yourself.” I know there’s an opposite, no matter how wrong it is. “If no one else loves you, how can you love yourself.” I know this is wrong, and yet I can’t do anything about it. I need to feel needed. I need to love and feel loved. What I really want, is to be cherished. Just. Cherished.

Getting over Barret is still hard. I need to unfriend him on Facebook because nearly every time my mouse points to my name on accident, the hover window opens up and he’s there. I know they’re random, but it makes me think he’s still checking on me. I know he’s not. Maybe I just need to believe he might be for a little while longer. I don’t know. I’m terribly confused tonight. And I meant to write about something else entirely. And that would be the following, I suppose…

Well. I typed that and now I’ve really got nothing. But I do have plans. Plans for my career, education, and my self. I’m working on making a lot of fundamental improvements, but I guess it’s just hard to write about it. I don’t want to sound silly or immature. One thing that’s been nice is I’m getting a lot of compliments, on Facebook if nowhere else. That helps so much. I need to believe in myself again, and it’s beginning to be a little less of a struggle.

Rebuilding

Okay… Last post about the boyfriend, I promise. I can promise that because he’s now officially my ex-boyfriend. He texted me good morning yesterday, then ignored me all day. I called him and it rang til it went to voice-mail, so I texted him and told him it’s over. I don’t know if that was redundant, because I kind of feel like he broke up with me when he quit talking to me, but I needed the finality of it. I really don’t even know if he read the damned text, because he still ignored me, but I have to assume he did.

The really unexpected development is that I’m actually relieved it’s over. The stress of the last week and a half was crazy. My heart broke a little every time my text alert went off and it wasn’t him. Now, I don’t even expect or hope he’ll text, and it feels good. It’s also a relief because it is hard to date when you’re a single mom. The late night visits to his house and juggling my time between him and the kids on the weekends was exhausting. I usually went to his house at least once a week after the kids went to bed, and I wouldn’t get home til two or three in the morning. Then I had to get up at six to get the kids and myself off to school.

Lately, I had noticed I never felt good enough when I was with him. I’ve thought about that a lot and I don’t think it was anything he did that caused it. It was something going on in my own head. In fact, to be perfectly honest, it may have had something to do with why things went sour. Confidence is attractive, but it also acts attractive. When I felt really down about myself, even though I could pretend to be confident, I was snappish and on edge, and analyzing everything he said, and being overly sensitive about it all because I felt like I didn’t really deserve to be with him.

So! It’s time for a little more life change, baby!

I know I’ve come a really long way since Thomas left almost two years ago. I was a mess when we were together, but I was a complete mess after he left! I mean, seriously. I’m not yet able to really put it into words, but if you knew me then you had a tiny idea of what was really going on with me. I was able to rebuild my confidence in my intelligence and abilities, but not in my physical self image. Mainly because of my weight.

You see, I’ve never been a skinny person. Even in high-school, I was a size 8 or 10. While I would KILL to be that small again, all the other girls wore a 0, so I was still “fat” in my head. Recently, I came across an old Polaroid of me holding up a pin and certificate from being inducted into the National Art Honor Society, and I literally gaped at it. I was SO SKINNY! I can’t even believe I didn’t know it then. Last year, I lost around 30lbs and was really starting to feel good about myself again. But when I got promoted, the weight just piled back on and I’m right back where I was. I’m fat and I hate it. I’m literally “extra-large” or “plus-sized.”

However, I’m super excited to get the weight off.  I even applied for food stamps today so I can afford to buy the kind of food I need to lose weight. I’m going to pull Tripp’s stroller out and want to start walking the neighborhood with him. I want to start again with the work-out routine I used to do. I wish I could still buy ephedrine. It’s bad for your heart but it helped me lose a good 50lbs before.

I’m not going to go on and on about my plans. No one really cares about that. I just wanted to say I’m okay, and I’m happy, and I have plans.

Oh! There is one other thing! I’m taking a break from dating. This is the first time since Thomas left that I didn’t want to be a part of a relationship. Technically, I guess it’s the first time since before I started dating Thomas, and that was a loooong time ago. Tentatively, I’m saying six months of no dating. I may extend it if I want, but I really want to do at least that. Even if something changes with Barret (because like it or not, I do still love him and miss him) I’m sticking to my six month break. I need to figure out me first. That doesn’t mean “me, but I really want to be an us,” either. Seems like every time I date a guy, I start off thinking he could be The One, at least for a period of time.

Something else… I’m really enjoying just writing for me. I’m getting some hits, but I have no idea where they’re coming from. So whether or not anyone reads this, I’m okay with it because I’m actually writing for me again. It feels good.

I’m really excited about life right now!

Dichotomy

Okay, I swear I’m going to stop going on and on about my love life, but hang in there with me a little longer. The good news is I’m really enjoying writing again, and soon I hope to get back to the funny things I used to write about. But until then…

The kids and I had to stop by the store after school for lunch supplies for the week. Out of habit, I had my phone in my pocket rather than my purse so I can hear and/or feel it if it rings. It screeched out it’s annoying text alert and I tapped it without looking just to shut it up. I finished prying the dozen toys from Tripp’s sticky little death-grip, and feeling frazzled and more than my thirty-two years, I checked my phone. I expected it would be one of the several awesome friends who have been holding me up the last week.

“Barret” it said. My heart froze, except it sped up to a million miles an hour at the same time. How it could simultaneously beat and not beat is beyond my intelligence, but I swear that’s what it felt like. I was absolutely terrified to open the message and yet I was thrilled he had texted me. As my finger moved to the open button, the sound and motion of the kids around me faded into a pale, swirly tunnel. All I could see was the phone and my shaking hand.

I knew it would basically say one of two things. Either, “I’m sorry. Let me explain.” or “I’m sorry. I don’t want to see you anymore.” Theoretically, we had already broken up simply by him not speaking to me for a week. It didn’t really matter who decided it, we weren’t seeing each other. But, you see, I needed that conversation. Not to sound cliche, but I needed the closure. I think these must have been the thoughts in my brain. It was my heart that was contradictory. My heart suddenly burst forth glitter rainbows at the hope that it would be the first option. I knew then, as mad as I am about the recent treatment, I love him. I don’t want it to be over. Not yet. Just a little while longer.

As is typical with Barret, he completely threw me for a loop with that first text. It wasn’t either previously explained option. It said simply, “OMG.” Naturally, I asked, “OMG what?” He said he always get himself into situations and I had some snarky, thinly-veiled, passive-aggressive comeback. He tried some idle chit-chat, and I kept up the snark. His replies became short one or two word texts. I kept on, and when he said I was acting immature, I come out full-aggressive. Angry and accusatory. So he stopped responding at all. I was angry again. I mean, who the hell does he think he is, you know? I hadn’t done anything wrong and he just disappeared and acted like I was NOTHING to him. All because he had some big mysterious problems?? Where did he get off?

When I got the kids to bed, I reread the conversation and thought about my texts more than his. He was trying to be friendly and I was being a complete and total bitch. I checked the time on the first message, and he seems to have texted me pretty much as soon as he got home from work. I know I’m supposed to be all mad about what he did, but I really started to feel bad about how I was handling it. I read further back into the texts from the last week or so, and there were a few that were snotty, to say the least. The night before he stopped talking to me, in particular, stood out. I was mad because we had planned that he would come over Sunday night (for the record, we had just spent the weekend together), and after I fought to get the kids down on time, rushed through cleaning the house and getting ready, he asked me if he could come the next night instead. It would have been better if he had told me that before it was time for him to get here, and I told him so. Rudely.

I texted him again, nicely this time, asking him why did he text me if he didn’t want to talk to me. Since you can’t read intonation, I added that I wasn’t being mean or bitchy, just asking. And I think I hit the nail on the head. He texted me back that I take things out on him. I apologized for that, told him I’m just so confused and upset, but I didn’t hear back from him.

Now that I know this, I can think about it. And in thinking about it, I can accept responsibility for my part in this. I’m not saying what he did was okay, because it’s not. Not by a very long shot. But what I’ve done wasn’t okay, either. Also, not by a long shot. I just wish he had told me. That he had talked to me instead of shutting me out so I could try to address my part of it. Not only to him, but mostly to myself.

It’s no excuse, but the depression has been trying to come back the last four or six weeks. I’ve been aware of it for a couple of weeks, but it’s not an over-night fix. When the chemicals get low, it takes time to build them back up. In my borderline depression, I’ve been overly… Everything. Overly sensitive, over analyzing everything he says and does or doesn’t do, overly aggressive or overly quiet. I think that led me to being snappish with him. Considering the things I know he’s been going through the last month, it’s no wonder we’re where we are today.

I have no idea what will happen now. I hope we can work it out. I hope,together, we haven’t managed to ruin this wonderful thing we had. I… Hope. And that’s not a bad thing.

Hollywood or Reality?

I’m feeling a little… Disenchanted. I think that’s how I feel, anyway. I’m just sick of everything today. I’m sick of school, my parents, this house… Myself. I’m especially sick of questioning everything today.

I find myself really questioning my relationship with my boyfriend. I’m starting to see more things that bug me as we continue spending time together. For example, he can be a little emotionally selfish. I didn’t know that was possible, but it is. I don’t expect him to be perfect, don’t even want him to be perfect for that matter, but how much is okay to accept?

I’ve settled before by blocking out all the bad. Love is blind, you know. So this time around I’m making a real effort to see him as he really is. There is no question at all in my mind about whether or not I love him. I know I do, and I believe he loves me, too. That’s based on real actions, too, not just words. Thing is, there are times when maybe his actions don’t say it so much.  This is so hard to explain and I don’t feel like I’m expressing it right. It’s just there are times I say something because I want him to say something that makes me feel validated and he doesn’t. The other night I was at his house and he said he was getting ready to lie down. I asked him if he wanted me to come with him (wanting him to say, “Of course! I don’t want to go to bed without you!” or something like that) and he just casually said I could come if I wanted. Like it didn’t matter to him. We talked about it and he apologized and said he’d had a bad day yadda yadda. I don’t expect him to be psychic or somehow know all the weird things women want. I know he was raised without affection and is a little emotionally stunted. I accept that. But I want to feel important. I want to feel like I matter! Most of the time with him, I do, and I guess it’s asking a lot to expect it all the time…

Is it asking too much to be loved fiercely? To be loved so much he feels like he’d die if I didn’t love him anymore? Is that only Hollywood and Harlequin love? I want the fairy tale! A lot of times, I have an “all or nothing” attitude. And most of the time, I feel like I have it all with him. But those sometimes really get to me. I like it that he is who he is with me. I don’t feel like he’s pretending to be someone he’s not, and that means I won’t be surprised later when I learn who he really is.

We have a lot of good times together. We talk for hours about anything, finish each others sentences, say the same things at the same time (almost to the point of some kind of psychic thing. It’s weird.), laugh all the time. We cuddle when it doesn’t mean sex. He kisses me like he means it (except when he doesn’t. I don’t get that. It’s not often, just sometimes it’s different.) and is tender with me.

I don’t know. I feel so stupid for writing this. I know (now) there are a couple of you reading, and I apologize for the melodrama. Probably I have PMS or some other hormonal fluctuation. The weekend with him went well. Probably I’m just scared because of having been burned so bad before. I just don’t want to settle, and I don’t really know how to tell if I’m settling or going to the other extreme and expecting something that doesn’t really happen.

Can’t Never Could

I didn’t sleep again last night, and that left a lot of time lying in the dark and thinking about life. I wasn’t very pleased with it, either. When did I become this weak, ineffectual person? Life happened, and there have been quite a few really fucked up things, but it’s how a person reacts to life happening to them that makes them who they are. I miss the girl I used to be!

I was on the phone last night with an old friend, and he asked me what kind of job am I looking for. I realized he meant NOW and I told him I can’t go to school full-time, raise three kids without help, and work. He pointed out lots of people do it, and he seemed sure that I can, too. Conversation moved on and we talked a while longer, but that stuck in my head. There was something wrong with it… After we hung up, I replayed our conversation, and realized the problem. I said I couldn’t do it because it was too hard. I couldn’t believe I had said that! And worse, I believed it!

Growing up, my mom always said, “Can’t never could!” It drove me crazy back then, but it stuck and I say the same thing to my kids. How can I ever do it if I don’t even try? My classes get out by noon, so there’s really no reason I can’t go back to work. Sitting in this house is killing me. Literally. And then? Once I’m working again? I’m moving us back out. I love my mom and dad, and I appreciate their help when I’ve needed it, but it’s turned out to be a not so healthy environment. I’m constantly stressed out and pissed off and I haven’t been a very good mother. I made sacrifices when I needed to move home. Now it’s time to make sacrifices to move us back out. I’ll get on welfare if I have to. Living with my parents is far from my only option. I even had myself believing that if I go to school, I have to stay here. That I was tied in for the next two years. For a while yesterday, I even thought about not going back to school at all, just going back to work so we can move back out. But thanks to that friend reminding me of the girl he remembers me being, I realize we do have options. I just had to think around the problem. Ambush it instead of a direct attack.

I know it’ll be hard. I know it’ll be homework at midnight and studying every free second I have. I already talked to the kids and they say they’re willing to help out and have peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch. They want out as badly as I do. They know it’ll be hard. But just like their mother, they have strong spirits and won’t let it stop them.

Life happened and I let it happen to me instead of fighting back. I let my self be replaced with wife and mother and daughter. I can’t change the past, but I can and will direct the future.