Tag: real life

A question


I asked you a question a few months ago. A question that was posed to me from an outsider.  The question I asked you was “what does taking care of me look like to you”.  I did not push you to answer. I asked occasionally if you had thought about it or if you had an answer for me.  It took a month for you to answer me and even then, it was because I was seeing the outsider and I don’t think you wanted to look “bad”.  Your answer was, “Difficult to answer, not sure how to answer.  Is it because I never did actually take care of you? Or never really thought about it. To take the time for your wants and needs.  Flowers to brighten your day, a card, a phone message to say I love you.  More decision making on my end to help end your stress.  To have answers for questions (not, I don’t know).” 

What has changed, in your opinion?  I would love to hear that answer from you.  From your lips, not written on a piece of paper or sent in an email or text.  Could you answer?  Would you answer?  

I started therapy, for me.  When I told you that I finally made an appointment you asked me, “Should I be worried?”  I would have to assume if you asked me that question, you were already worried.  Right?  You felt me changing.  You felt the distance that was created between us.  You had to.  People around us saw it and felt it.  Is it easy to ignore that feeling?  I can’t ignore it any longer. 

I fill my days being busy to keep the real from creeping in.  To fill the voids and the gaps with something, anything.  You have to realize that.   You have to see that.  The busier I am the less time for the awkward silence to ooze into all the empty spaces

You will always be a person that will hold a very special place in my heart and in my world. I will always love you, no matter how fucked up that sounds. I don’t want to replace all the memories we have. I want to keep those memories. I want to keep them safe, keep them happy, not destroy them with words of hate and feelings of…discontent, unhappiness, and loneliness.

Our house. Do I love it? Fuck yes, I love it. After almost 20 years, it has become what I had always hoped for. Our kids are comfortable coming and going, even as adults. Our grandkids know where to find their snacks and their favorite toys. That is what rips me apart the most. What about them? I see the way you look at each one of them. Your love shines through your eyes. I worry if we are no longer “us”, your relationship with them will change. That destroys me. But I can’t control that. I can’t control you or your actions.

If I ask you the same question today, “what does taking care of me look like to you”, what would your answer be?

What happens if I go away

Who will take care of cleaning?

Who will take care of cooking?

Who will take care of the wash?

Who will take care of paying the bills?

Who will take care of birthdays?

Who will take care of anniversaries?

Who will take care of holidays?

Who will take care of appointments?

Who will take care of ordering food?

Who will take care of getting groceries?

Who will take care of loading the dishwasher?

Who will take care of unloading the dishwasher?

Who will take care of the kids?

Who will take care of the grandkids?

Who will take care of giving support?

Who will take care of giving comfort?

Who will take care of giving love?

The world will continue to spin if I go away

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?