if you are still thinking about it. get out of that bad relationship. get out now. now is the time. do it.
I don’t have kids. I know its tough with kids. My sister is getting a divorce and has kids. It sucks, but not as much as staying in a bad relationship. Get out. You can do it. You have the strength. Just go through the motions. Now.
well… what do ya know…
someone else saw my work and is putting together a proposal for chronical books and wants me to be the photographer. yay! who knows when that will be…
one thing about photography, it’s hard to get paid. i’m a little worried. i need some paid work. ok… good energy… no whammies…
one thing i’m glad about is that i don’t have to deal with alcoholism in my day to day life. i don’t even have to drink. alcohol is no longer a part of my daily fears… the only time it plays a part anymore is if i go down to the swanky cocktail lounge and order a fabulous drink. thank god. i’m so so so glad of that. i never ever want to be the significant other of an alcoholic ever again. it’s too hard. it’s too crazy.
i spoke with jim the other day. he wants to get together and talk about his new girlfriend and where that leaves our relationship. he said he called me and now it’s my turn to call him. no thanks. i really don’t need that. i don’t need any kind of controlling weird stuff. i don’t need to discuss his new relationship. and i don’t need to be his friend. i really really don’t need his friendship. that doesn’t mean i don’t miss him, or what we had when it was good, but that doesn’t exist anymore and i want to live my life in a happy way. i’ve noted every time i speak with him or see him i walk away feeling down. no thanks. i think i’ll watch the comedy channel by myself.
Just came home from another visit with Anna. She’s overwhelmed. But doing well. Her son was diagnosed with autism about a year ago, she’s suing the school district for services, divorcing her husband, trying to reestablish herself back in the workforce after a five year absence to raise their children. She’s busy. She can’t imagine going back to her alcoholic husband. She loves him, but isn’t attracted to him. He makes life hard for her.
Now that she’s left she’s interested in life again. She’s interested in men again. Parts of her that she thought were gone are reawakening. She’s laughing. Planting flowers. Flirting. Being funny. It’s amazing how much one can blossom when a constant threat of negativity is gone. The kids are adjusting. They’re excited to have two homes. Then again, they’re little.
Me… I’m photographing for designers. My book deal fell through. Anyway. Now I’ve done two designer shoots. The first got nationwide attention and I’m hoping will get picked up by a major magazine. The second I shot today in a seven hour shoot with two locations and four models. I can’t seem to catch up with my workload. But I’m getting there.
I’ve got to say things are looking up. It’s proving to be a good year. A year for change. A year to make decisions. A year of choice.
Jim asked me to coffee on Sunday. I said I already had plans. And I did. It was lovely. I still love and miss him, but I’ll never go back. I’m waiting for someone wonderful to come around. A partner in life. Someone who holds me up, and someone I adore.
My dog and Jim’s dog were best friends. My doggy came from a breeder, was well loved and always cared for, and is fairly well adjusted. Jim got his dog at the humane society, which I fully recommend and feel guilty about not choosing.
Unfortunately Jim’s dog had issues. Lots of them. The humane society recommended putting the dog down, so Jim took him out to the woods and shot him. He’s devastated. He says he’s never cried this much in his life.
My heart breaks for him and I’m slightly horrified, and know I shouldn’t be. The horses were shot at the ranch I worked at when they weren’t going to make it. Cows are shot to make my steaks. I know a lot of hunters. I guess it’s scary to think you can end the life of something you love so much, and its over for good, so fast. His dog was only just over a year old. Still a puppy and totally healthy. It breaks my heart, and it breaks my heart for him.
So long little guy. We all loved you and will miss you.
Well a huge congratulations to me.
I got a book deal today. I’ll be the solo photographer on a new genre of books. I’m under a confidentiality agreement or I’d dish it all. But I’m really proud of myself. I won the personality contest even though they said I was the least qualified. It came down to two photographers. Me and another photographer who has been published in National Geographic and has had several other cover stories with crazy cool magazines. But they want to work with ME! It’s a major book with a major publishing company… and it’s totally different then anything I’ve ever done.
They said they just “had a feeling about me” and they believe I’m the best person for the job. Wow! How awesome is that? I’m very happy.
Funny. Because when they first contacted me “I just had a feeling” about it. Something about this is going to change my life. I don’t know how, or what, but I have a feeling that I really need to pay attention. I “know” somethings about to happen.
I have two new girls. One just moved in and Paige moved in on the first. I’m thrilled.
Paige is slick, smart, and wholly adorable. A runner. An artist. An hourglass figure from Alaska. Perfectly charming. She makes the funniest comments, listens really well and has been the most observant from everyone I’ve lived with. She emptied the dishwasher when it was clean and she went out and bought the grocery list for the house on the very day I wrote it. (miracles do happen) She asked me about my family.
Then she asked me where my mother was.
I changed the subject.
I used to wonder and worry about what to say when someone asked me about her. The simplest thing which wouldn’t really be a lie would be to say that I lost my mother when I was a teenager. The most shocking thing to me is that it never came up before. Only one person has ever actually asked and his mother was so fucked up it was easy to share. Paige asked. Weird. Crazy. Someone actually noticed who was missing from my verbal family portrait. The sky must be falling.
So where is she? I know the answer. She’s an armed body guard, or provides an armed body guard to clients in the Los Angeles area. She has a new family and a new life. But her life will forever be interwoven with mine and my sisters. We all come from the same small town. Her new husband and family too. We all know what really happened. And then I hear she’s still claiming my sisters and I as her own when she left us more then half a lifetime ago. It’s crazy. But then again she’s crazy… and that was always the whole problem.
Had a date with an extremely passionate artist. He was wonderful. He took me out to a nice show. He opened doors, bought my drinks, always made sure to proudly introduce me. He tells me I’m exactly what he’s looking for.
I texted my sister Anna when he went to get us some more drinks at the show. Oh god. I texted her about how great he was… then later I realized that I had accidentally texted him that message instead of Anna. I am a dork. Good grief.
I brought him home. Not my usual m.o. but he was wonderful and how could I resist? Perhaps it was all those drinks. We were all over each other all night. Then he snored. Not sure if I can deal with that. And he’s out of shape. And he has a lot of hair. He was extremely passionate but in the way that he was practically saying “I love you” by morning. He called and wants to take me to dinner on Monday. I’ll go, but I’m going to hold back. I need this to go way way slower.
Jim is seeing someone else. I’m positive. This is good. I’m genuinely happy to let go of him. I feel very done with holding on to the negative things in my life. I’m moving on.
Anna is happier then I’ve seen her in years. Leaving was the best thing for her.
Time to let go.
She’s finally getting used to her new home. She said it was really quiet and strange not to expect her husband to come home. She’s beginning to get used to it.
Tomorrow she’ll go to therapy with him. She’s going to officially tell him she wants a divorce. She’s done. She wants the counselors help to make it as amicable as possible. She wants to file the papers this week.
And that’s it. Just going through the motions.
She left.
Turns out her husband is an alcoholic. I didn’t know. They have two little boys. Two new homes. He couldn’t afford their three bedroom after she moved out. He’s in the ‘nice’ phase. The ‘ I know now what I did wrong, and I’ll change if you come back’ phase. She says she wants her distance. They’ll go to counseling. She’ll keep trying with him, but she wants her space. He has the kids on the weekends. She doesn’t know what to do with herself. All that quiet time. She calls me crying when he’s been sweet to her. That’s the worst. When they’re back to the person you fell for. And they’re hurting. And you love them.
But she’s sticking firm with the separation. She feels like she only gets to live this life once, and she’s desperately unhappy. She’s tried to work it out with him for over ten years. She’s done. Almost, the counseling is more of a formality. Appeasing him.
She’s taking antidepressants to get by. She’s going to a therapist. She’s having blood pressure issues, dizzy spells. It’s the stress.
Her new house has a view of the ocean. It’s nice, and she’s happy to come home, but it’s hard for now.
We are in off again on again contact. I feel indifferent towards him. I think he feels the same. I think we’re getting over each other. Though there’s still a part of me that wants him to want me. At least that would be someone.
My car was towed, I accidentally parked in front of a little driveway I didn’t see in the dark and pouring rain on the packed sidestreet. I stood outside in the 38 degree weather with wet hair to wait for someone to come get me. My neighbor. It decided to snow again.
Jim called to check to see if I was alright. If I got my car back. I haven’t called him back yet. That was several days ago.
You both do heal after some time. I think most heal faster then I do. I’m slow.
Well, she got the house.
That was fast. Boom. Done. She’ll be moving next week when the carpets have been torn out and the yard weedwhacked.
Funny. How long I stayed. How fast changes seem when they’re not yours. Seems like I wanted to leave forever before I finally had the courage to do it. And it was so dramatic. With Anna it seems instant. But then again who knows how long she bit her tongue. How many times she thought about leaving before she finally decided it was the right thing to do.
He’s begging her to stay. His heart is breaking. He apologizes over and over. She said she didn’t know how much it would hurt her to see him in such pain. She’s heart broken too. She wants him to be ok. She’s worried he’ll kill himself. She keeps having those kind of dreams. He was adopted, then sent to boarding school. Everyone leaves him. She wanted it to work, but it isn’t. She feels incredibly guilty and responsible for his pain, and at this point maybe she is. I think she’s been stifled for way too long. Walking on those eggshells they lay out at night. Never doing anything right. Waiting for the mood to swing back and forth. But she’s a feisty one. She fights back. I never did. I’d roll over and play dead. She always thought I was the strong one, and she’s never been alone.
I hope she’s alright. I hope he’s alright. I know right now they both aren’t.
My sister is leaving her husband. They have two kids. He’s an alcoholic, but still really mild compared to our group here. He is so much less of an alcoholic then Jim was it’s almost incomparable. But he has the mood swings. He makes all sorts of excuses to run to the store…
She hasn’t left yet. She’s on the searching for a house on Craigslist part. Today she found a reasonable one for a good price. She’s gathering the money. She’s questioning it. He’s making her feel guilty… “Why are you doing this to me? Don’t you love me? Why are you breaking up our family? I’ll really get help this time! I love you. I need your support as I go through AA…. on and on and on…” She’s determined to go, she doesn’t want to live like that. She wants to be respected, loved, and a true partner… and even though she loves him dearly, he won’t be able to fulfill that.
We’ll see if she goes… and how it goes for her. She’s worried she’s going to feel lonely. That’s the hardest part. When you go and you realize that even though your spouse is an alcoholic, they still love you and know you better then anyone else. They still want you. It’s hard to go. It makes you feel selfish and horrible. It’s painful to put someone through that and know it’s “your fault” they are suffering
She wants to have a good year. Even if it’s really painful to start. I hope she stays strong.
It’s snowing and it’s stunning outside. Beautiful. My crazy neighbors built a snowboard jump ramp off of their house and down onto the street. They’re having a ball. I look out of my window to little kids being pulled on sleds down the street by happy yellow labs. Everyone’s laughing. I wish it was like this every year. I grew up in a snowy city, so I slapped some chains on my car and drive. Most of the city is on skis and foot. No body minds. Everyone has a few days off and nothing is open. It’s reviving and wonderful.
Nothing much else going on. Jim called me tonight after drinking and begged me to come over. I could tell he was feeling vulnerable and wanted me there. But it was late and I was just finishing up work and I was cold and wanted to go home and take a bath, eat some ice cream, and crawl into bed. He was so dissappointed it broke my heart. I had to keep stopping myself from going over there. I tell myself “Theres a reason why I left. Would he come to me if I needed him emotionally? No. Maybe if I needed him to fix something, but not because I wanted him.” And ” We aren’t together anymore.”
Being ‘free’ is hard sometimes. I have a little problem with guilt. I have a little problem with feeling like I would do anything for someone I love. But what did I do? I called him back and said I wasn’t coming. That I was too tired and was going home. Then I went home, ate some ice cream, took a bath, and am going to bed now. I’m content. But I know there will always be a large part of me that will forever want to believe that I can ‘fix’ him. That my comfort and company will somehow make a difference. That he will one day turn back into the man I am in love with. His sober self. How do you leave someone you love so much who needs your help? Standing your ground. One day at a time. By treating yourself the way you deserve to be treated.
It was a restless night, somewhere near morning I fell into a fitful sleep. Agitated, worried, and exhausted my mind won’t shut off. Money.
I haven’t paid rent at the office. I haven’t paid my bills, and no one is booking me. And my roommate had an appointment for a facial this morning. “It’s all what you prioritize,” she keeps saying to me. Some days I want to smack her. “Seriously, would you like me to prioritize paying the electricity, or go get a facial?” Actually I need to go to the eye doctor. My corneas were damaged and I need to have them examined to make sure their alright and a new pair of lenses made.
I am feeling particularly anti roommate today. All in all, it’s great. But the both of the girls have bonded and I’m the odd one out. I am constantly contradicted, and conversationally cut off. I keep my mouth shut. I tell myself I should practice good listening skills. I ask good questions. I think about what I’m going to say. I have experience in many things. Not that they know anything about it, why would they bother to ask me about myself? ugh. Some days I want to respond with “You know what? You’re a selfish, know it all, bitch. No, I don’t think your life is particularly incredible. You actually are extremely immature and needy.” But then again, she’s cool. I usually turn back to my computer and tune her out. I was worried when she moved in, she drew a huge picture of herself on our fridge, complete with background of the sun and the ocean… to remind us about her while she was gone packing up her stuff in california. “Uh oh.” I thought as soon as I saw it. “this may not be the best match.”
I haven’t heard back from the law student guy. I want him to call. I hold back from calling him. I know he’ll call if he’s interested, and if he’s not I don’t want to change his mind. I just want him to like me because I’m me. He is in finals right now and he warned me that he would “drop off the map” for awhile. I hope he calls back. Anyway, I’m going on a few dates this week. One with an architect. And another with a librarian.
I am miss negativity today. I need to pull out of it. But everyone around me is so fake cheery. “I’m greeeat!” That I almost feel like I must quickly counter balance that with “Really?” My roommate bursts out in cheerleading cheers. I could never stand cheerleaders. I totally dreaded those pep rallys where everyone got riled up in highschool about an upcoming game and some girls jumping up and down saying rediculous things…. and then wanting me to yell them back. Right. No thanks. I went to one, and never went back. I got good at running from the campus cop. They stopped trying to get me in there after awhile. Now I live with one. She has no idea. One of my favorite actresses is Parker Posey. She could be my sister. We’d get along great.
Live in the present.
Stay on your mat. Stay in the now. I’m doing lots and lots of Yoga. Tonight was hard. I was shaky. I don’t know what’s going on with me. Is it winter? Is that it? Do I just need to relax into it, or tackle it? So I sleep. And I stay up all night. And I didn’t see the sun for two days.
When I was really depressed as a kid I’d disappear. Sort of. In a sense. I’d feel the world moving on around me, people laugh, people talk, hug, connect. And I’d be left out. I didn’t understand these people, I wasn’t allowed to be part of their world. That’s why I like travel. I’m not supposed to fit in. I don’t have to know their culture. It’s fine. I’m the outsider with that instant understanding that that was my role there. In Africa I felt more and more at home. ” I like white people.” a woman told me in Uganda. She bought me ice cream. Her kids touched my arms and pinched my skin. Wide brown eyes. Along the river I couldn’t tell if I was looking at monkeys or babies until I’d get closer. I found that completely charming. I wanted to gather up all those little ones and take them home with me. Maybe one day I will adopt. I traveled alone for four months with no destination, no one I knew, and loved it. It was obvious I didn’t fit in. I was right where I belonged.
Here it’s different. People expect me to be ‘normal’. And for the most part I am, but I never understood the way people work socially. Hmmm…. I wasn’t socialized. It’s true. I was kept at home for years and years. Told I would never grow up, that god would come take me home in the rapture. I won’t even begin to say what the devil was up to in those days. Wow. He should have been man of the year several times over. He was one busy little satan. According to my mother.
Some days people might as well be speaking in a foreign language to me. All this talk about themselves. All this quiet and blatant dismissal. All this disinterest in the people around them. The I phone, I tunes, My publisher, My photo pipe… me me me me me me me me me me. Good grief! Gimme a break! But not a single person around me cares about me. I listen to all the mopes and gropes. I empathize. And they think they’re so special and unique. My life is kept secret. Not because it’s a secret, but because no one cares. And that’s fine. I’m good with my past. I’m content to know there are some things you never ‘get over’, and it’s since stopped haunting me. Still when movies come on and theres a loving mother, I cry.
I keep trying to believe in love. I know I love. Deeply too. I really do care about other people. I care about my roommates, my neighbors (really! they’re my friends), but like so much in my life it seems like I’m the one giving and giving and giving. And I am tired. So I’ve become a recluse of late. The time is going by, and I feel lost in the nighttime, the sky is foggy and dark and lit with streetlamps. The cars go by making sounds like the ocean. And I work. And I wonder if there will ever be a time when I am truly loved for who I am. The woman I know I am. Smart, funny, loving, creative, pretty, determined, brave.
Jim would always say that he admired my audacity. My stubborn belief in myself and in life. I suppose I have my mother to thank for that one. I don’t need to fit in. So I’m free to travel, I’m free from most of these societal rules. I had to take them all in and try to figure them out at an older age. I never had to engage. The fake smiles and boobs. False eyelashes (which I secretly want), fake tans ( which I do, but only if I have the winter blues…ah, maybe I should go in tomorrow?), it all confuses me to no end. What life am I supposed to live here? Who am I? What Camilla is supposed to be happening now? Who did she become? How am I supposed to behave? Most of the time I’m pretty quiet. I listen. I disappear. I’m the free therapist.
My relapse with Jim is over. Undramatically. I just don’t call and dont answer his. It’s not really that hard. It stopped breaking my heart.
I’m waiting until a man comes along who really loves me. Who finds me interesting, unique, engaging, and endearing. Who loves me because I’m present now. Here now. Living a beautiful life. Laughing my way through the hardships. Finding humor in the blizzards. Awake.
But I’ll post anyway. Delay bed.
I saw Jim today. I was returning clippers he told me my dog needed. I didn’t get a chance to use them before he was asking for them back. I didn’t ask why, I just brought them back. I was going to drop them off, but he wanted me to keep him company for a bit.
This used to kill me. More because I love him and can’t really be with him. I can’t be a ‘friend’, when I’m in love and used to having a relationship as a couple, even as totally dysfunctional as it is. Tonight though, I realized I didn’t feel that way about him. I don’t care as much. I don’t expect anything from him. It’s a relief.
He needed beer and I met him at the corner market. We arrived at the same time, he saw my car, but instead of even giving me a wave he went directly into the store and came out with his beer. I think I want a man who will come up to my car and say hello before he goes in. I’m so glad I can choose that now. Jim gave me a pot that he doesn’t use and I wanted, so that’s nice. He texted me later after drinking with his friends all night that he wanted to meet up with me. I texted that I was in bed, even though I wasn’t.
I went out with Lawyer boy again last night. He made me laugh. He looked adorable and handsome. He bought me two amazing cocktails at a lovely place. And he drank his drinks like a normal person, and he made well thought out comments on the design of the place. He eats things like lamb, duck, and rabbit. He wants to go into politics. He says he’s looking for Lois Lane, I say my grandmothers name was Lois, and I’m wearing her earrings and hair clip. He thinks I’m funny. He touched my leg… a lot. I was wearing Jeans and a sweater. Why wasn’t I wearing a skirt? He picked up the bill, walked me to my car, and kissed me goodnight.
Ahhmm. I suck at kissing when I don’t know the person. I haven’t had one bit of reason to be kissing guys! But now I do, oh shoot and I am! It makes me very nervous. I really don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I thought I did everything wrong (because I like this guy) so I was hypercritical of myself. But he texted me today and wants another date! I’m relieved and excited.
What is it with guys and texts? Can someone inform me? Should I be worried?
I keep getting bloody noses. I’m living in a rainy climate. This used to happen when I lived in a rainy climate before. Random sudden bloody noses. It’s shocking. I’ve been feeling really tired lately too. No yoga. Tonight I ran out of energy so hard I couldn’t form proper sentences. I need to take better care of myself, I’m supposed to keep a strict eye on my blood sugar, and eat protein in small portions six times a day. Do I ever? No. And recently I haven’t been hungry. So its more like one meal or two per day. No wonder I’m crashing. I need to plan better. Grr, but then it seems like I’m always eating. Better do it though. I’ll do it tomorrow.
The process of letting go is so difficult. It’s a huge test of self. Can I keep going? I’m sad. I miss him. We love each other. He wants to be with me.
No.
I have to keep going. It doesn’t matter how I feel about it. It doesn’t matter if I’m lonely and want to be held by someone who knows and loves me. It doesn’t matter if I’m bored and want a friend to laugh with who understands me. It just doesn’t.
Because I know the end to the story.
He will always choose alcohol before me.
_________________________________________________
How do you feel when your drunken “soulmate” throws an ashtray at you and it hits you and it hurts? I feel devastated. Lost. Powerless. Scared. Angry. Helpless. Frustrated. I feel like I’m no longer here, like I left and I see this girl standing there. Scared. Powerless. Lost. And I want to help her.
And I am. And I get to come home.
So he texts me last night at 2:30. Says he’s coming over. I know that means sex… oh, that was about the only healthy thing in our relationship. That and sleeping. Which he’s coming over to do. So I don’t stop him.
Now, I don’t have another guy I’m close to. I don’t sleep around. I can’t. It’s just not in me. I tried once, because I thought I should. I hated it. It made me feel bad. I guess I let out my slutty side by nude art modeling… which I love. But that’s art. And that’s different. And I’m an artist. And Jim is on his way over to feed me some affection I’m craving.
It was so nice. Oh so so nice. Everything was super sweet and wonderful and genuine. The Jim I love so much. This morning we went to the coffee house for cinnamon rolls and coffee. Had good conversation and he left. And I felt like shit for the rest of the day. Why?! What the hell is wrong with me!?
I know when I see him, I’ll want him. I know his presence means a life I don’t want to lead. I know I’ll never trust him. I know I’ll never go back to him. So why would I sleep with him and put myself in the position of wanting him?
Bad bad bad. Tisk tisk. But sooo deliciously good.
So I broke down and broke up over e-mail, sort of.
I started this blog on election day. We haven’t had contact since. Now we’ve e-mailed and I know it’s dangerous ground to starting communication…then love then heartbreak.
I was strong though. I told him a relationship was out of the question.
It’s so hard. So hard when you love them so much and they’re your best friend who knows you better then anyone in town. Especially when they are on their best behavior. Oh! The amnesia sets in bigtime.
Maybe communicating wasn’t the best idea. It made me feel better. And it tamed my mind to tell him that I loved him and wanted him to find happiness without me. I could have just written it and saved it to drafts though. But since I’m pretty sure he’s seeing someone, I’m also fairly confident he won’t try to woo me back. So I’m safe, so to speak.
Meanwhile lawyer boy whom I’m interested in texted me back. WTF… texting has been how all these guys get back to me. So weird. Anyway. I’m oddly excited about it. He reminds me of my gay designer friend… he makes me laugh. And is well put together. Who knows. Maybe I’ll continue this blog until I find happiness with another man and let Jim go fully out of my life.
I went to my heated power yoga class today. It kicks my butt! I’m still totally the worst person in class. I have blood pressure issues. My blood pressure will suddenly drop and I’ll get really dizzy. It upsets me. Makes me feel vulnerable. But I’m getting better and better with yoga. If I were doing any other fitness activity no one would ever notice, in yoga you hold a pose for an amount of time and I’ll suddenly go weak and fall out. Some days I’m so embarrassed. Now, I’m much stronger. I’m getting better and better, both in holding the poses, learning to control my breath, and emotionally dealing with doing something for myself regardless of what other people think.
One thing I’ve learned through yoga, when you keep trying your best, you inspire the class. It doesn’t matter if you’re good at it or not…it’s when you give it everything you have. Another nice thing about yoga is that I’ve learned to live in the present moment.
Another great thing about yoga, is that I’ve grown over an inch since I started last year! Whoa. I’m in my thirties. You’re not exactly supposed to grow. Over an inch. None of my pants fit anymore. They’re all too short.
Let the finger pointing begin.
I’ll be the first to admit. I’m a hypocrite.
I’m totally obsessing over Jim. And I totally miss him. Why? Because he was being the sweet Jim I fell in love with. Why did I go again. Because he was being the asshole I already left. I know the answer is to stop obsessing with things that don’t have answers. But my brain is defiant. “I know he’s seeing that girl from work… she’s only 20… a baby!… so much younger then us… I am boring, I don’t go out. He’s right. What can I say to make him feel bad. I should tell him I’m seeing someone really great…”
See, I’m totally barking up the wrong tree. I’m hurt. broken hearted. AGAIN. And I’m obsessing over it and nursing my wounds. Its a bad idea and doesn’t work. I need to switch my focus onto something else. Something positive about myself. I think for tomorrow I’ll pick that I have nice skin. So whenever I start even thinking about Jim, I’ll switch over to being glad that I have nice skin.
Sometimes though, I want to feel bad. I’m good at being hurt. I just don’t want to live my life like that anymore. I need to focus on change and break this addiction. Just like any other addiction. (except for the love thing, but I guess I loved cigarettes… different though)
Feeling bad tonight. Hurt all day. It’s taking all my will not to try to get him to go to coffee with me. I won’t do it. I won’t go back. I can’t.
One more thing.
I’ve a theory. I think my invisibility is totally self created… but still real. It’s all about attitude. When I’m down and depressed and want to disappear, no one notices me. They cut me off when I’m talking, they ignore me when I order, they bump into me and don’t say excuse me.
Tonight after yoga I was bright and confident and joyous. I walked as tall as my 5′5″ frame can be and picked out my vegetables and ordered my chuck roast with happiness. Everyone smiled at me and was nice. The buchers flirted with me, and a guy insisted that I go in line in front of him. WHAT?!
I know I’m doing something right. I need to keep up the no contact. Keep up the no obsessing rule. Keep my thoughts on what I like about myself.
A book I read that helped me a lot is: Excuse Me You LIFE Is Waiting by Lynn Grabhorn …Just order it. If you really try to do what she says it will change your life. Or not, but it’s worth a try.
But its harder then you first think. The nice thing about it is that you don’t need religion. You don’t need to dig through your past for answers. You start new with each day. It’s an approach that resonated with me. When I first started using it I booked a $9,000 gig. Most people don’t pay me that much to photograph them. (I hope that continues!) I am also much happier.
He didn’t call me at all. It’s been a week now. I’m actually alright with it, but it still makes me incredibly sad. I guess I do want my cake and to eat it too. I told him not to contact me and he didn’t. But it’s sadly easy. I love him so much and have done so much for him… I sort of want him to be begging for me back. But nope. Which is actually good for me.
He owes me about $500 which he said he’d get on the 20th. I need it. So I hope he follows through. I’ve lent him loads of money. I believe he’ll get it to me. It’ll be our last face to face contact before I totally cut him off.
I wrote him an e-mail. Stupid I know. But I wanted him to know that I loved him and even though we weren’t right for each other I hoped he would find happiness in this world. Basically my online goodbye. I’m really really sad. But not as sad as I was when I first left him…. and first said goodbye to him for the last time.
This time I did vote for change. I won’t see him again. I thank all of you for reminding me how it was. The life I used to lead. Its shockingly easy to forget, and to remember all the love, charm, and good times we had. Especially when he’s trying to win me back. But apparently he has a short attention span, or maybe another girl caught his eye, or maybe he’s on a ‘bender’. Who knows. But whatever it is… it won’t affect me in the slightest! Hooray! And even with the sadness, I’m glad about that. I don’t have to care about his bad choices! Yes!! Whoo hoo!
I went to coffee with a guy from Match tonight. He is in law school and is witty and funny and nerdy adorable. He made me laugh a lot in an hour. I was giddy the rest of the night. Then I went to my heated power yoga class (which is sooo hard) and when I came home my roommate had dinner ready with a cute single architect friend of hers (they aren’t seeing each other) What Luck! So I ate with them and laughed about everything… then we went to a french dessert bar and had these wonderful little desserts and laughed some more. My dog even learned a new trick. I’ve got to say… It really seems like things are falling into place now that I’m making better decisions for myself.
I know it also sucks to hear when things are going good for a person when you are broken up inside and things look hopeless. But even though there may be many many dark days ahead… please make the right choices for you. Things seem to align after that and go smoother. You relearn how to laugh and know its the sweetest sound on earth.
Thanks again to all of you for sharing your stories. I know it helped me remember. I think it kept me away. I hope it helps me stay strong. I wish I could do more for you all. I know how much pain there is, and it’s so different then any other disease. There is an incredible amount of confusion.
I’ll probably leave this blog for awhile and concentrate on “Not Obsessing”. But I did want you to know that I was raised by a parent who was mentally ill, Paranoid Delusional. There were crazy stories. Kidnapping, locking us in the house, no schooling, taking away my glasses, telling me I was from the devil, telling me I’d never see my 21st birthday…It’s oddly similar. Maybe Jim was me repeating that pattern of abuse? But it wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t his fault. And it sure as hell wasn’t my fault. I feel like I’ve spent my life in this whirlpool of dysfunction and am ready for change. Thank goodness I didn’t have them right after another. I took a lot of time after she left to find myself… travel all over. Live in different parts of the world… then BAM Jim walks into a bar…and we fall in love.
I’m done with that. I want me. No one will give me that, I have to take it.
I went to a black tie event tonight. For charity. Children’s heart disease. To fund research.
I could have chosen to represent and artist. He’s seeing my roommate. He’s a little older then me. She’s seven years younger then me. He’s all about her. She’s not that into him. He’s a great catch. An up and coming artist. I believe in his work. And a total gentleman. Kind. Perfect Thoughtful. She’s gorgeous and was asked out by a few guys at the event. I wasn’t.
At the bar afterward the waiter filled her water and left mine empty.
I used to call myself the invisible girl. I wrote stories about how I didn’t really exist. I am overlooked countless times. I’m not kidding… one coffee shop… they never remembered my order. Ever. They never made my drink once. The person in front of me would get theirs, and the person behind me. But not me. I’d order, I’d pay, I’d tip generously, but they never would remember to make my drink. I went over twenty times and each time they’d ‘forget’ it. I’d remind them and they’d profusely apologize. “I’m so sorry, so sorry” I only went back because I was so fascinated that they NEVER made it. I’d always have to remind them. What is it about me that make me so unmemorable? I disappear. I swear. It has absolutely nothing to do with looks. I’m fairly good looking, and don’t look American, I look foreign. I look German and Norwegian. Some think I’m gorgeous, and some think I’m not. But funny, if I’m in one of these moods… I disappear altogether.
I always made a big impression on my professors. They remembered me. Then again I love learning. I feel cheated out of my education. I wasn’t allowed to go to school for most my life. Wasn’t allowed to listen to music, watch movies, nothing.
I know. I’m feeling insecure. And it’s my fault. When I’m happy, I can light up a room, in my quiet way. When I’m like this… I disappear. I can’t tell you how scared it makes me feel, and so lonely. Why?
No one here cares about me. No one here has heard my story. No one asks who I am. And I’m expected to build and run an art business, in poor financial times, pay my loans, and be creative… and everyone really could care less about me. I’m their person they go to when they’re sad. I’m the one to talk to.
I need to get out of being their support and be more into getting into my own work.
I’m a womans advocate. I would love an marry a man, but I’m a womans best friend.
I support women. I praise them. I photograph them. All shapes, all ages, and all sizes. I show beauty in every woman, every story. True, and pure beauty. Raw. Most describe my work in one word “Pure”. I love it, because that’s exactly what I go for. It’s the innocence and rawness and willingness in every woman that makes her so gorgeous… that I honor. But for me… nothing. There is no woman holding me up. No man. No god. No parent. No one. No therapist. No one. Some days I just feel more alone then ever. This just happens to be one. I feel most alone in a crowd.
I should totally be gay. It’s too bad I’m not.
In reality I know: No one can make me happy. I’m happy. No one can fill the void. I’m complete. No one can heal me. I’m healthy. I have to find my own way, and accept my own path.
I chose to become a photographer, and womens advocate, because I wanted to have a life where I could have my career and still raise a family. I wanted to be a doctor. Now, I had an abusive relationship, own a failing business, and have no prospects and I’m in my thirties with no man…. I swear, sometimes it feels like shit. Some days I feel like the luckiest woman ever. But then again, I know what I’ve been through. Funny though, that I make my most money on weddings and babies. Two things I’ve yet to experience. I would love to be a mommy. I wish I had money. I would have kept my baby.
I believe in my work. It’s beautiful and quality. But everyday I feel so guilty. I honestly don’t know what to do. I should have been a doctor. I wish I was. I feel like I’m failing everyone, everyday.
Does anyone dread the weekends because you are suddenly with your alcoholic all day for two days and you know there will be a fight?
I had a strange dream last night. It’s because of beginning this blog… I may need to abandon it. I am feeling like I’m immersing myself back into this. I hated myself when I was with him. I wasn’t me. I was meek, silent, and scared. He hated me too. It’s hard to be so hated and yet giving your relationship everything you have in you.
I dreamed that I had to get through enemy territory. A sort of spy dream. I need to get though this underground hideout and to the other side to safety. No one is around and I’m quickly getting through. A man cuts his way down from the ceiling and I hear him and freeze. He lives in this hideout with his crew of other ‘bad guys’. They are all high tech… I pretend to be a robot. (wtf?) Apparently he was expecting his woman robot slave to arrive any day and I must be her.
I live with him. Always talking like a robot. I take care of him in every way. I am also sort of badass… I protect him. And over time I fall in love with him. All the time being a slave robot in enemy territory. Never trying to leave out the other side. He treats me like a robot slave.
Eventually the hideout is invaded and I protect him and we need to escape out that other side. On the way out I am shot, and he keeps going. I scream for him to come back for me. I beg. And he does. He drags me out of the hideout and into the bright heat and sunshine out that other side and into a ravine. We make crazy passionate love. He knows I’m human, then he pulls out his gun and shoots me in the head, and I die.
I wake up.
I stayed in bed until noon. Which isn’t a shock since I was up until four. But I’m thinking that diving into all my pain and memories isn’t helping me. I thank everyone for sharing their story. It reminds me of why I left and why I need to continue to stay strong and keep my no contact rule. I know eventually one day I’ll stop thinking of him again. The pain in my heart will go away, I’ll work on being the woman I want to be.
I am:
a photographer
an entreprenuer
shops at farmers markets
support my local community
a foodie
love people and reaches out to them
an excellent listener and empathic, I know everyone has their own unique path and I honor that
volunteer my time to support new mothers in finding a birth plan that’s best for them
am respected
laugh easily
travel
play the piano
sing
and one day a loving wife and mother
I watch others lives through windows. I think everyone does. Our neighbors, our friends. We peek in to see a snapshot of life, appease our voyeuristic natures. Typically its normal, boring really, and beautiful. From my back porch I view a little cottage, complete with squirrels and wooden red chairs, golden shutters, and a little deck. When the sun is right I can see through their back door into an adorable kitchen with lace on the windows. There’s a little basket ball hoop suction cupped to the window on their back door. I’ve never seen who lives there, but every day I see little changes and signs of the lives inside.
I am an addict. Totally addicted to Jim still. I wait for his phone calls. I long for him and I love him.
I was never prepared to leave the man I loved. He says he loves me more then anyone, that I’m his best friend, that I’m the woman he wants to bear his children, I’m the woman he wants to give a ring to.
How do you leave the man you love when he is sick with a disease and needs your care? How do you let them fall when you care for them so deeply? How do you abandon them when they need you?
Leaving Jim was the hardest thing I’ve done. It was terrifying, and anticlimactic. One day you sign a piece of paper. Then one day you box up your half of the stuff and find someone to move your furniture. Then you cease contact and begin your recovery. You buy your groceries, laugh with your new roommates, plan game nights, and try so hard not to think about why he let you go. Why didn’t he love me enough to keep me? Why didn’t he love me enough to control his drinking? Why didn’t he change? And mostly, why is drinking more important then me?
I did leave. I barely remember it. I was hazy and lost and a total emotional disaster. I felt crazy, and Jim had me convinced that I was. It was me who had the problem, I was pushing him away. I was making him angry. Why was I so stupid? Why didn’t I know where the coffee shop was? Why didn’t I have the tank filled with gas? Why wasn’t dinner ready? Thats why he was angry. I made him that way with my stupidity and I couldn’t do anything right. I grew quieter and quieter. I became ultra sensitive to his moods. Then there were the days I knew there was nothing I could do, nothing I could say, he was going to blow up at me. He says I over-exaggerate, that I deserved it. That all couples fight and I wasn’t always right. That I needed to apologize to him for making him so mad. I told him I was sorry, every day and I grew to resent him. I also started to believe him.
I watched the happy couples walking on the sidewalks. Jim was in his mood. I didn’t know when he would begin yelling at me and ripping me apart. I saw a mom pushing a stroller. A golden retriever. A funny woman in a big hat. A guy on his bike. I watched from the car window as we drove by. I had my forehead against the glass, cool and comforting. I wondered if there was anyway I could keep him from blowing up on me. I was afraid. I knew it would ruin me. I watched as a dad bent down to pick up his little girl and throw her up on his shoulders. They were laughing.
I once spent three months alone in my room. Recovering from an abusive relationship I had no choice in, still young, still under the protective paw of the land. Finding myself. I hardly spoke. I never had to testify, but was asked to be prepared, as if court were somehow the hard part. Then she was gone, and my house fell silent, and I never saw my mother again. It was a lifetime ago.
No one now would guess. I’m well again. Fully recovered. Only to find myself in another relationship. It started innocently. A boy in college. We fell hard for each other. In love. He was perfect. Wonderful. His family loved me, my family him. We moved in together, shared everything. I grew up and out of the college party life, and he didn’t. It’s oh so simple.
I still don’t know what to say if someone asks about my mother. After all the thinking and fear and debate over it, no one asks. Not even those who are close. No one around me knows my story. Perhaps they don’t think I have a story worth telling. Maybe we just don’t think to ask.
Today I voted. I voted for change. I voted for yes we can. I also erased him from my phone for the the 100th time. I hope for good. Though I still love him, I know he’s a wonderful person with a good heart. He just doesn’t know. And I still make excuses for him. I would protect him from the big world, from what people thought. From judgement. From himself. But now my vote is cast. I choose me.
This is my story.
