gone

My girl left. She packed her car Sunday and moved back to drippy dick. Back to the place I have been paying rent for. I’m guessing this has been going on for at least a month, if not longer. Did she go to therapy, ever? Will she continue? Will this be the end of her?

She did leave us a litter box full of cat piss and shit. So there’s that.

scaredconfusedterrified

We dance around the inevitable. It’s happening. It’s slowly and painfully happening. It’s unwinding around us. I have played my part, you have played yours. We are both liable for very different reasons. Blame will be placed, rocks will be thrown. I will take the brunt of it, that’s OK. I have a strong back. I have been carrying the weight for a very long time. I have caused you pain, just a different pain than you caused me. No one is innocent, just remember that.

We can’t continue to live in the dysfunctional discomfort. No one could, and no one should. If you had to chose, do you chose the discomfort that is comfortable and familiar or do you chose the unknown discomfort that is scary and new? It’s quite the choice I have presented, isn’t it? Do our worlds stop and end without “us” being “us”?

We always knew there were cracks in the foundation. Two very young people from dysfunctional families did the best they could with the tools they were given. The cracks continued. If we are honest, brutally honest, did we think we would really make it? And if you answered yes, I would like to know your reasons. I would like to know what you see differently

I can only speak for me. I will not speak for you. I have spoken for you for almost 30 years and you let me. Why did you let me? I just needed your words, YOUR MOTHERFUCKING WORDS!!!!!!!!!!!! How many times have I asked, begged, pleaded for words? Words other than I don’t know. Because right now, in this moment I don’t know either. I just don’t know.

I know I will not go back to status quo. I can’t. We both want, need and deserve more out of life than simply existing.

It has to end

I can’t believe she did it to me again.  I mean, I can.  I suspected as much, or I wouldn’t have taken that drive yesterday.  I had my suspicions; I didn’t want them to be true.  But they are true.  My girl is back with him.  I probably started to get suspicious about a month ago.  I am assuming she went to her therapy as she was supposed to, but I won’t be able to verify that until the health insurance claims start rolling in.  And even then, I don’t know if I will be able to tell how many days she attended.  I figured she was smart enough to not call him from the cell phone I pay for.  I can, and do, check those records on a regular basis.  But there are so many other ways for them to be in contact with each other. 

 

She started to talk about old friends.  Friends that I hadn’t heard about in at least a year or more.  But I am trying to give her the benefit of the doubt.  And I was happy she was hanging out with friends.  She never brought the friends home, her excuse being the state of her room.  Okay, I get that.  But some of her old habits started to surface.  Not calling or texting if she wasn’t coming home for the night.  Not coming home after her therapy sessions were over.  But, again, I wanted to support her.  Make sure she knew how proud I was of her and that I knew she was struggling and hurting. 

 

Her birthday was the end of June.  I made sure everyone knew she needed gift cards.  She has no job, her savings is depleted.  Gift cards for gas, food, etc.  Now I feel like I duped everyone.  Did the gift cards get used on her or did they get used on him?  Is she really that dumb?  Not only that, but I have been paying half of her rent since May because she signed a lease with drippy dick and he threatened to sue her civilly if her half wasn’t paid.  Four months of paying half his rent.  Four months of paying her outrageously high car insurance (because she had so many violations.) Helping her with supplies for her cat, toiletries, the food she likes, a new mattress, new bedding.  Putting things I wanted to do in my house on hold because she moved home and the room I was using as a storage room while renovating another room, she now occupies. 

 

Oh, and I believe it was last week, she told me that one friend she talks about and supposedly was doing things with, had found an apartment with a boyfriend and they needed stuff for the apartment.  When we moved her away from drippy dick, we took the plate set, pots/pans and microwave because I bought them.  I scrubbed everything clean and packed them away in the event she ever needed them again.  She asked if she could give the items to her friend because they were desperate for household items.  Of course, I said yes.  I’m now willing to bet my house that those items are back in the apartment with drippy dick.

 

And I can’t forget that I spent hours filling out her disability paperwork, because it was just so overwhelming for her.  It is currently under medical review.  I also applied for state health insurance for her.  She told me that her therapist told her private insurance does not cover what state (basically welfare) health insurance covers.  And, since I want her to stay in therapy and get all the help possible, I did all the work.  She received her benefit card last week.  She was supposed to take it along to therapy and find out what could be done.  As of Friday, therapy was over for her. 

 

I couldn’t sleep well Saturday into Sunday.  I just had this feeling…………that feeling of something not being “right” with her. The feeling worked its way into every part of me.  I decided mid-morning on Sunday that I needed to drive by the place drippy dick rents.  I needed to see for myself.  Was her car there, or wasn’t it?  I realize there are many different scenarios that could have happened.  But only one happened.  Her car was there.  AND IT FUCKING KILLED ME.  I took a picture, so I had my proof.  I felt like I was going to throw up.  All the hope I had was gone for my girl. I am still numb.  I still can’t believe it; I don’t want to believe it.  I saw it.  No matter what her excuse is, I saw it.  I am starting to get pissed off and very angry.  

 

Now the question is, what do I do?  She came home Sunday early evening because the family was getting together for my mom’s (her grandmother’s) birthday Sunday evening.  I was cool towards her, but we all know I can act like a Tony award winning actress.  She tried to talk about therapy.  She was very loud, and I think was doing it so everyone could hear her and maybe pity her or something.  I told her to stop talking about it and it could be discussed later.  She left earlier than anyone else with the excuse she was going to her friend’s house.  She never came home last night, never sent a message or called.  As of right now, she still isn’t home.  She is once again treating my home like a Holiday Inn.  She has the bathroom and her room destroyed, again.  

 

It’s time. I know it’s time. It will probably be the single hardest thing I have done as a parent up until this point. I need to kick her out and that’s it. No more bills paid for her. I have to stop. She obviously didn’t hit rock bottom like I thought. I hate to see what rock bottom is for her.

Silence

The silence is deafening.  Do you hear it?

The silence screams the truth.  Do you hear it?

The silence speaks what I can’t.  Do you hear it?

The silence speaks what you can’t.  Do you hear it?

The silence speaks because we won’t.  Do you hear it?

The silence is calling us.  Do you hear it?

The silence is a friend telling me to stay.  Do you hear it?

The silence is a friend telling me to go.  Do you hear it?

The silence is telling you something. What do you hear?

Randomness

I noticed something about a week ago, regarding my blog.  I do have followers (and I thank you for that).  I look at my followers’ blogs and I follow quite a few.  Very interesting stuff to read.  I appreciate the different ideas, opinions.  There are a lot of followers who are some type of…..fixer.  That is the only word I can come up with at the moment.  They are health/wellness bloggers, relationship bloggers, romance advisor’s – you get the drift.  My wondering mind wants to know if those followers are hoping to maybe, fix me?  Maybe get a new client?  I don’t know.  I am cynical, so I question everything.  I do not mean any offense at all – HONEST!  Or did they read my stuff and think “Holy Mother of God!  This person is fucked up!  Send help immediately!”  Maybe they can use me as an example?  

 

I think it would be cool to have a back and forth with people who follow me.  Ask me a question, make a comment.  It’s cool.  Let’s have a discussion.  Ya know?

 

So, I do have a question for the people in long term relationships. Do you talk to each other? What do you talk about? If you go out to a local watering hole. Do you sit and engage with others around you? Do you talk with your partner about anything? What do you talk about? Or do you sit in some type of comfortably uncomfortable silence? Is there a point and time where the talking just stops? Is that just the natural progression of a long-term relationship? I’m not a quiet person. What happens when the local watering hole doesn’t provide the same stimulation? Are you able to sit and talk endlessly with your partner? I’m totally serious. I want to hear what people have to say, what you think, what you do in your relationship. Cause when you boil it all down, what should be at the core of your long-term relationship? Love, communication, understanding, compatibility…………what is it? What do you think?

Food, please and thank you

So, it’s 10:00 AM.  I have been at work since about 7:30 AM.  I have checked my email.  Nothing there for me to do.  I put six bottles of water in the conference room refrigerator.  I took two letters to the mailbox and put the flag up.  There have been no phone calls to answer.  I have heard one of the “professionals” in the office being passive aggressive and complaining about the temperature of the office (that person has a thermostat in their office).  I know one female and two males have gone potty.  I have shuffled and reshuffled the same papers around my desk about four times.  I have organized the wheat thins that I am eating into pairs.  I have hated myself 127,568 times for my many faults.  I am currently considering getting more wheat thins to eat, because……………why not.  If I do get more wheat thins, I will be able to hate myself like 54,789 more times before noon.  At noon it’s lunch time.  I have fresh, local black raspberries (my favorite) and vanilla Greek yogurt.  Totally healthy and good for me.  And as I eat that, I will PROMISE myself that this is it.  This is the time I make the change.  The time is now.  Stop procrastinating and making excuses.  How do I know that will happen?  Because it happens every day, at least once a day.  And then the rest of the day I eat my feelings, I eat my mistakes, I eat my unhappiness, I eat my loneliness, I eat my excuses, I eat my fear, I eat my inadequacies.  I eat.  The way I see my current situation, there is no reason not to eat.  I find my comfort eating, I find a long-lost friend eating, I find my emotional support when I eat, I find everything I need when eat.  Food isn’t going to leave me. I can’t disappoint food, I can’t hurt food.  Food gives my fat suit.  I have and will continue to pay dearly for that fat suit.  It will help me shut people out, let people see what they want, let people think what they want.  With my fat suit on, no one is going to get close enough to see the real me, to see the truth no one wants to see.  And, so you are aware, I did not get more wheat thins to eat.  I got goldfish.  I ate them in pairs.  

 

What do you see?

 

What do you see when you look at me?  Can you tell me?  Will you tell me?

 

Who do you see when you look at me?  Can you tell me?  Will you tell me?

 

Tell me the good, the bad and the ugly.  Here I am.  No filter, no make-up.  Just me, raw and vulnerable.  Opening to you.  What will you do with this? 

 

I wonder if you see what I see. Do you only see what I want you to see?  Do you see me? ME!

 

There are so many words I want to hear, so many truths I want to hear.  The truth can be messy, hurtful, powerful.  It can open doors and it can close doors.

Who do you see when you look at me?  Can you tell me?  Will you tell me?

 

What do you see when you look at me?  Can you tell me?  Will you tell me?

 

What do you see?

Ramblings

 

Please excuse me, but these are the ramblings of an old, fat, scatterbrained, wannabe loved woman.

 

I can say those things about myself.  I am old.  I can’t say midlife anymore.  That would mean I have another 50+ years of living.  I’m fairly certain that isn’t the case.  I am fat.  Society and medicine tell me so.  Even when the people who say they love me don’t tell me the truth, I know I am fat.  Yes, I am scatterbrained.  How can’t I be?  Who isn’t these days?  A wannabe loved woman.  That is also me.  This is one of those catch 22’s and probably most of what my ramblings and deep dives will most likely lead back to.

 

Feels like so many things are just floating around “out there”.  My girl is in therapy.  At least I think she is.  She started May 18th.  It is from 8:30 AM to 3:30 PM, five days a week.  As far as I know she has gone every day.  No real way for me to check since she is over 18 and an “adult”.  The last three weekends she has basically been gone from the house starting Friday evening through late Sunday night.  I don’t like it.  She tells me she is with a friend and ends up spending the weekend.  Is she?  I don’t know.  Is she with drippy dick?  I don’t know.  Someone suggested putting a tracking device on her car.  I honestly did think about that.  But, I need to do my best to trust her until she gives me a reason not to trust her, right?  If, in the near future, I need to make a decision to kick her out of the house or cut her off, or whatever – it will be because she messed up.  I will not spy and/or trick her.  Don’t get me wrong.  I want to spy, I just feel like I can’t right now. I need to let her go and do her thing, whatever that is.  

 

A very dear friend recently lost her mother (as did my husband).  I haven’t talked to or seen my mom since Mother’s Day.  It’s such a messed-up relationship.  She won’t break down and call me, that would mean she is giving in.  And honestly, if/when I call her at this point I will be subjected to guilt.  I carry more than enough guilt around.  But, what if something happens to her and I haven’t talked to her in over a month?  The guilt would be tenfold and would stay with me forever.  I can’t understand why she doesn’t see or refuses to see that I do all I can for my family.  I work to continue to support my kids and grandkids in things they may need.  If I didn’t spend money on kids and grandkids, maybe I could stop working – at least fulltime.  She stopped working by now.  She stayed home.  I’m not 20 anymore.  I do get tired, I do have aches and pains, things aren’t always as easy as they used to be.  I would like her to understand that.  I have tried to tell her.  She says I’m just making excuses.  She actually sees her great-grandchildren, my grandchildren, more than me.  But she still plays the victim.  No one calls her, no one stops to see her, etc.  I want to be more sympathetic.  I just can’t be at this point.  As the saying goes, “too much water under the bridge”.  I shouldn’t live in the past, but the past made into this old, fat, scatterbrained, wannabe loved woman.

 

I found another arthritis lump on one of the knuckles of my right middle finger.  I found one about 6 months ago on my right pointer finger.  My hands now look like my great-grandmothers did.  At least what I remember her hands looking like when I was 15 and she was 76.  I don’t like it.  My face is getting droopy.  My neck is gross and hanging, along with every other body part a woman doesn’t want to have hanging.  I feel completely unattractive and gross.  That’s the plain and simple of it.  I like one thing.  I like my eyelashes, and those are fake.

 

Do you ever tire of people saying they wouldn’t know what to they would do without you, that they couldn’t live without you?  I do.  If you feel that way about me, let me ask you a question.  What are you doing with me?  What are you doing with me in YOUR life?  Where do I fit?  Are you more afraid that I would leave and you would have to figure out that I actually did a hell of a lot for you?  Are you afraid to lose the comfort and convenience of me being around?  Is that fair?  I am a comfort and convenience for some of the most important people in my life.  At least I feel that way.  Old, fat, scatterbrained, wannabe loved woman will always be here.  She always comes back, no matter what.  You don’t have to reciprocate, you don’t have to show love, you don’t have to talk to her, you don’t have to respect her.  Because the old, fat, scatterbrained, wannabe loved woman isn’t worthy of more or better.  The old, fat, scatterbrained, wannabe loved woman is reliable, convenient, easy, a doormat for everyone to wipe their dirt on and move on.  What happens when the doormat is taken away?  What do you do with your dirt?  Think about it.  The old, fat, scatterbrained, wannabe loved woman wants just that.  I wannabe loved for me.  Just me.  Not because I have become a comfort and a convenience to have around.  Show me that love, tell me about that love, tell me why I should stay, don’t make me feel like a doormat or an afterthought.

 

The old, fat, scatterbrained, wannabe loved woman says, “tag, you’re it.”