Skip to main content

Author Topic: My Story Life goes on.

t
  • *****
  • Hero Member
  • Posts: 816
  • Gender: Female
My Story Re: Life goes on.
#120: October 18, 2021, 12:43:03 PM
Hello 3longyrs and thank you! HIGH FIVE!!

I spent yesterday playing with the cat and assembling — with his “help” — a considerable LEGO project. That project went much more quickly than I expected and when I completed it, I set it atop the shelf above my bedroom window. Am kind of hoping kitteh forgets it existed and that he doesn’t get ideas about leaping to that high place. D came home last night and was startled by the new addition there, which made us both laugh. While she played with the cat, he stood on hind legs with his front paws and little face peeking over the top of the bed and she remarked how big he’s grown, even just since last week. I can’t get my head around that: it’s true. He is now six months old and so much bigger than the handful of kitten he was when we got him. Time flies.

This morning it rained and on the way to school I laughed, because I am thinking to disassemble the LEGO project today. She asked why, and I don’t actually know. Something about constructing a thing and then taking it apart and putting it fully away, now that it’s done. Like I guess I needed the action of building it and seeing it complete, and that’s all. In some way, it’s the first time in a long time, that I have the choice to dismantle a good thing I have built, no matter how ordinary it is, instead of someone else coming along and dismantling it themselves because they want to and they can, irrespective of my investment or feelings about it all.

I don’t usually overthink LEGOs, but there you go. I like that there is this intelligently designed, solidly built, finished *thing* in my space, a thing I constructed with my own will and effort and time, and that the decision to deconstruct it — like the act of constructing it in the first place — is only and solely and totally mine.

This week I think that whatever caused h to bolt and stay away, that’s layered with complexity now because of his parent loss last year. I resented that he took away the opportunity for me to be good wife and consoler and carer during his first year of grief, but I don’t think I do anymore. I don’t think we ever get that time or opportunity back again, but I like the idea of leaving room for us to have a different and maybe cleaner, clearer level of discussion if he ever does come back around.

He was so smart, back when, and so emotionally articulate. We matched in that way and I miss it about him. But I don’t mind where I’m at now, or that I’m by myself so much of the time. I spend it well enough I think.

This morning after school drop off, I stopped at a convenience store and lingered there long enough to realize every beverage was sold in plastic, when I didn’t want to buy that. I moved on to a proper grocery and ended up buying eggs in a paper carton, for a quiche, and ...a paper tub of spumoni ice cream, because the flavor was popular when I was a kid and the name still makes me laugh.

Partly because when it came up, years ago, and I said it, everyone in the family spluttered and said “WHO likes SPUMONI??!!”

I do.

I like spumoni. It reminds me of grandparents with accents and of local sweets in Europe and the name is just silly out of non-Italian mouths, and I think it would be a great name for a kitten.

Lately I am just playing with life here. A little more outward but still reticent, grateful for my vibrant D and for the rooms that presently house us. I can’t find my quiche recipe so I looked up a few online and then had to investigate using whole milk instead of cream, because ...my recipe never called for cream. I am satisfied that I can make a good quiche without it.

It’s nice not having to worry about what anyone else thinks. I don’t walk on eggshells anymore; I don’t feed them to the dog or the garden anymore, either. I just throw them out.

Thank you for reading, and (((HUGS))).
  • Logged

C
  • *****
  • Hero Member
  • Posts: 724
  • Gender: Female
Life goes on.
#121: October 18, 2021, 02:18:07 PM
Terra, I always appreciate your updates. Whenever I read them, they always make me feel whatever it is you’re describing - the upheaval sometimes, the bewilderment at how a person can change sometimes. Today, peace and acceptance are the messages I glean. Contentment, pieces of joy here and there, real appreciation for the truly good things (and people and animals) around you. If this is what “overthinking” does for you, then… well, let’s just say that this post wouldn’t make a convincing argument that overthinking is a bad thing.
  • Logged

Z
  • **
  • Jr. Member
  • Posts: 53
  • Gender: Female
Re: Life goes on.
#122: October 18, 2021, 03:42:29 PM
I don’t walk on eggshells anymore; I don’t feed them to the dog or the garden anymore, either. I just throw them out.

^ This….A great mantra and goal for the LBS!
  • Logged

  • *
  • Mentor
  • Hero Member
  • Posts: 11383
  • Gender: Male
  • You can't please everyone. You are NOT a pizza!
Life goes on.
#123: October 19, 2021, 01:30:30 AM
Here we go... Look out below for LEGO!



 ;D
  • Logged
Me - 58, xW - 50
Together 19 years - Married 17 at separation & 21 at D-Day
S - 14, D - 10
2 Dogs
BD#1 - August 2015
Atomic BD - 13 Dec 2015
House sold & separated - Mar 2016
Divorce final 30 August 2019

Survival Instructions for Newbies
Site Map
 
A "friend" will not "stand by you" no matter what you do. That is NOT a friend. That is an enabler. That is an accomplice.
A REAL friend will sit you down and tell you to your face to stop being a firetrucking idiot before you ruin your life and the lives of those around you.

t
  • *****
  • Hero Member
  • Posts: 816
  • Gender: Female
Re: Life goes on.
#124: October 20, 2021, 04:43:33 PM
 ;D UM, I am not going to show that to D’s cat. Our good dog used to pick up new ideas just from listening to us talk about them, so I won’t say it out loud in kitteh’s company either. He is small but he is very smart!

D has a friend over this afternoon and I am hanging out in the parking lot under a sky full of heavy grey clouds. We get more rain down here than at our old place, and it’s been very novel and restorative thus far. I miss my outside spaces up there and the privacy, but the wider and more peopled openness here has been interesting too. We are both coming out of our shells a bit — out of intensive quarantine and out of whatever armor we built around ourselves during that long time. It’s good to have the best of friends over to this place, and long overdue, very healing.

Last night I was out here as usual and one of the guys who also lives here long-term — a contractor from the middle of the country stationed out here for business — came by and asked if I’d seen anything weird here the past few days or nights. Turns out there were several vehicle break-ins and things stolen. I was surprised, but also not. The truth is, I *had* noticed a different element here over the past few days or maybe the past week. Confronted it somewhat too, or stood my ground when it confronted me. I am plenty street-smart and especially after all the hassle and confrontation of the past year or more, I don’t give way to anyone unless I can see benefit for me to do so. I’ll just say that a) my vehicle wasn’t tampered with, and also b) I am kind of glad this guy and his crew live here from out of state and aren’t shy about letting it be known that they have guns upstairs in their suites.

And that is really the first time I’ve ever said that — glad someone has guns nearby. So let’s just say I find I am now in kind of a weird place. ?!!

Different from where we lived before. We lived there because I knew in my bones it was utterly safe, even almost idyllic. Last night after the guy and his dog went back to their suite, I looked up the crime map for where we are. Right here, it’s orange. I kind of wish I’d thought to check that map before we left the old place; I’d have chosen a bit differently. But the other choices are not forest green deeply safe either, and I was surprised to find that neither is our old neighborhood. Equivalent safety is available at another of the places I was looking at then, and the main thing keeping me from moving us there is that moving is disruptive and we would be downsizing from here.

I am just getting accustomed to living in what seems a normal and adequate space. Although family and other folks would like me to be tight with money and do what is least expensive, right now I think it is really important to recalibrate D’s and my expectations and perceptions of what is normal. Because as much as we liked and relied on the old house, and wouldn’t have moved before next summer if we hadn’t basically been forced to, it wasn’t adequate. Or normal. It was old and shabby and weird, with stupefying features that made zero sense and ;D insulted our sense of design and function and good taste.

Here is different. The suites are secure; the long-term residents are nice. I just won’t leave anything important in the car, and will lock it up every time I leave it — something I never, ever did at the old house.

While the guy was telling me the news last night, it dawned on me that we are right around the corner from the holidays, so there will be more criminality here. I spoke to the folks at front desk this morning and the one gal I really like, a bit older than me, said “If you see something, say something. Just call us right away and we’ll have the police right out. Trust your instincts, because they’re good. Especially as a single woman — trust your instincts. They keep you safe.”

So even if it’s weird here, and different, I do also feel cared about and looked after, somewhat. And in some ways that’s different and novel too.

I like hotel living ok enough. I haven’t said anything to D about it and last night it was hard for me to get to sleep, but I don’t think I need to say anything to her. And I already know that if anything happens to the car, I will just laugh and deal with it and carry on. I don’t care about cars except that they should get me from A to B and back again.

I dreamt last night of h. He was telling me all about something, urgently, and it all was very like old times, even old times of MLC. Familiar. I don’t know where we were but I was only stopping by. He wanted me to know something. All I could really see or sense was that he was still handsome as heck and to me really beautiful. So admittedly I was just watching him, in the dream. Maybe the same way men watch women walking past on a beautiful beach, except we were indoors and somewhere where he was in command.

He kept talking and I know I was idle and maybe bored or aloof, the way cats are. Difficult to impress, and not even on purpose, but just because. Because I have a million things going on in my own psyche every second of every day and night here, and that doesn’t go away, even in my dreaming sleep.

He wore a short-sleeved blue collared shirt and his arms looked strong and warm. For some reason I have never figured out, he looked still somehow like my own kin, and that’s what I was thinking about as he went on and on.

“I need you to UNDERSTAND”, he said suddenly, “My life with her is becoming really DANGEROUS for me.”

I blinked and looked at him. “It’s NEVER been what you THINK,” he said, and I blinked again and woke up.

Dratted dreams. He said that a lot and for a long time, about ow. That it wasn’t at all what I thought it was; that he knew what I thought it was, and that it just was not even *close* to being what I thought.

I don’t know what I make of that now — the dream or the past or current reality. I know that there are parts of him that no one after me will ever know. Good and bad, really. There are versions of him that were only ours and the kids’. It’s weird to recognize that, because I no longer remember those very well and I don’t know if they still matter. Or if any of it does, or if it ever did.

I told the gal at the front desk about the “landscaper” who was out at the rose bushes with a tiny pair of pruning shears the other day, and when I said it seemed weird and that if you’d given *me* those shears, *I’d* have had those roses done in minutes *flat*, all the staff at the desk fell apart laughing.

H taught me years ago how to do the roses right, and we had 17 and 21 rose bushes in the yards at whatever times. I thought the six or so here looked decrepit and ignored, but yesterday morning I saw that one of them has started blooming.

So here is actually fine. And I’m glad.
  • Logged

  • *
  • Mentor
  • Hero Member
  • Posts: 11383
  • Gender: Male
  • You can't please everyone. You are NOT a pizza!
Life goes on.
#125: October 21, 2021, 02:51:34 AM
Well Terra, I guess the crooks might be having to deal with


In the near future, eh?  And a dog to boot? A real dog, right? Not an ankle-biter....
  • Logged
Me - 58, xW - 50
Together 19 years - Married 17 at separation & 21 at D-Day
S - 14, D - 10
2 Dogs
BD#1 - August 2015
Atomic BD - 13 Dec 2015
House sold & separated - Mar 2016
Divorce final 30 August 2019

Survival Instructions for Newbies
Site Map
 
A "friend" will not "stand by you" no matter what you do. That is NOT a friend. That is an enabler. That is an accomplice.
A REAL friend will sit you down and tell you to your face to stop being a firetrucking idiot before you ruin your life and the lives of those around you.

t
  • *****
  • Hero Member
  • Posts: 816
  • Gender: Female
Re: Life goes on.
#126: October 21, 2021, 10:29:17 AM
;) UM, it would be like that if it were me with a gun, which is why I have never owned one and won’t ever. And really the dog that night was one of medium size? We are a large breed family so even medium sized dogs seem like ankle biters. But you know people love their good dogs, so we won’t shame them. I was so glad to have time with that one; I love our kitteh, but really miss the wonderful connection of dog spirit and soul.

This morning I dreamt of h again and it felt even more familiar and even right. 90% right. It’s been ages since I had any sense of that, about him or us.

When I woke, I determined that the previous dream, if dreams mean anything true at all, probably meant that he and ow have reached some deeper level of intimacy or knowing each other and commitment and so yes, of course that would feel very dangerous to him. I know that there are many areas and parts of him that he does not want anyone to truly know.

But that’s how we grow. Being fully and deeply known.

So it’s important to me that he is. By someone. I wanted it to be always me and I thought it always would be. Instead I am the only one knowing me and I don’t know him at all.

And as much as I would have it some other way, I find this is fine.
  • Logged

t
  • *****
  • Hero Member
  • Posts: 816
  • Gender: Female
Re: Life goes on.
#127: October 22, 2021, 09:43:04 AM
Driving home after taking D to school this morning, in the first heavy rain of the season, I cried a good couple of miles. The heavy grey weather and all the water makes me really miss our good dog. I miss my writing spot up in the hills and I miss his big contented presence near me, rain or shine, but especially in rain. We lived up there through years of super drought and when the rain came, that was special time. It never mattered how much or how hard or how cold it rained; we sat outside in it, even in the dark and even in near-freezing temperatures, and then were glad to come back inside, tracking paw prints and shaking off the wet.

He never smelled like that wet dog smell I remember of childhood. A good house dog, he smelled of green walnut leaves and coffee grounds and supple weeds, and fur. And he was always good for a hug.

I miss our good boi. It’s funny how all the emotions really defy language; my feelings about him can’t be said at all, just felt and cried.  :'(

I might spend today/this weekend compiling photos of him for a memorial book for D (and myself, to the side or overseeing). It’s her birthday soon and I’d meant to do the book or collage back when he died, but life kept taking over. This will be her first birthday without him in a decade. She won’t hear of my getting another dog, so creating the gift of the one we love will help me a bit with my grief and dog longing, I think.

I went for coffee this morning at the front of the hotel. Same time as usual, but with time changes and weather changes, it was almost fully still dark. I noticed the swimming pool looked beautiful with its deep end lamp lit. So I carried that image back to my writing spot here and just stood in the rain, waiting for the sun to rise.

While we are here, I am acknowledging the negative misperceptions people in my life have thrust at me, all these bizarre distortions that have nothing to do with who or how I am or present, accusations or firm assertions of character defects that didn’t exist in me then and don’t now. Lies. I don’t know why anyone ever said what they said, to my face or otherwise. And it’s interesting to notice those come up again now that I am back in a position of real need and vulnerability — legally houseless! I notice that these now defunct relationships, if active still, would still come with all the baggage of someone else believing 100% that they more accurately judged my character than I myself do or did. As if a person is not ever able to see itself clearly and truthfully.

Well that’s just bullsh!t. Isn’t it. Who knows you better than you know yourself. Come on, now. Who.

I went along with a lot of the negative feedback because I didn’t know how not to, and loved these people, and in some cases was validly dependent on them for things like ...you know. Food. Safety. Survival.

Or because I just loved them, with all my being, and wanted to be good. I guess I perceived at any point that they knew better about the world or personhood or right behaviors than I did.

Well guess what! NOT ANYMORE. Anymore, I see full well that the majority of the naysayers didn’t and don’t have anywhere near as much life experience as I had or have. It’s not even a case of they do and it’s just different. It’s that I’ve lived a lot and have lived raw, on the farthest edges and with the least active support beyond just relying completely on God, and on my own chutzpah. I don’t like that that’s how it’s been, but for most of my years, that’s how it’s been.

Last night I thought a lot about some of these people, especially the FOO ones, and realized I am in a good place, emotionally. I am in a swell place; I like this new ground. Somehow it feels stable, secure, and pure. I wrote an idle list of naysayers who over the past 18 years are now completely gone from my life — h being the only one left, present only minimally and mostly in my head (really), and inconstant.

Then I wrote a heady list of all the things I can do now that those voices aren’t current or actively present anymore.

What a great list. Most of it is simple stuff you wouldn’t expect anyone would ever relinquish. But those negative voices were so bad and so constant and consistent, especially the ones of FOO, and they really served to limit or beat down my sense of ability to stand my ground and to do even small things that I liked or loved to do.

It’s not clear to me how we can anticipate or divine in new encounters who is on our side and who accepts the all of a person. I don’t know how we can see in any person right away that they will turn into a negative voice or committed controller at some point down the road. I couldn’t see it, in the people I loved or chose. If we’re given a honeymoon period of 18 to 36 months when everyone is on their best behavior, too, how easy is it for anyone to withdraw the emotional or physical or financial investment when the masks start to fall and the rainbows are becoming less frequent?

It wasn’t ever easy for me, and that’s one reason any relational engagement went on a lot longer than maybe it should have. I have a long history of learning the hard way, and even choosing deliberately to do that.

NOT ANYMORE, YO. Gosh. There’s no more time for that.

I woke up this morning thinking of h and then abruptly not thinking of him at all. I’m mystified at how inconsequential that all feels, now.

I miss having a big steady companion who likes to stick with me rain or shine, and who is always good for a hug.

But when I say that, I don’t mean h. I mean my dog.

That seems like good progress, today.

I am thinking to spend the weekend with that set of memories, almost all of them remarkably beautiful and happy and good, and despite the rain, I am loosely hoping I will go for a swim later today. I used to swim in the rain when I was much younger, and there’s something special and deeply natural about it. I haven’t done it in years, but I think this is the season for that to change.
  • Logged

t
  • *****
  • Hero Member
  • Posts: 816
  • Gender: Female
Re: Life goes on.
#128: October 23, 2021, 09:50:29 AM
Dreamt last night that D and I were moving to or from the neighborhood we used to live in, again. Only this time was more celebratory, easier, glad — and the businesses down the hill had been wiped out, replaced by a stunning expanse of patient natural meadow. The whole block erased and taken over with green wilderness, as though the forest had crept down the hill overnight and cleansed everything in its path.

That was thrilling, and when I woke I realized that if I owned it all, up there, that’s the change I would make. Erase the human footprint and let Nature have the spaces back. So much calmer and prettier and ...normal.

We humans are collectively so overwrought and odd. Seeing the green expanse, I felt free again, relieved, able to breathe. Those buildings had been there since I was D’s age, since FOO lived there and since they moved away. The dream made them gone, and with them decades of personal history and whatever damages had chipped away at my sense of self, those were gone too, and it was just us.

No naysaying; no detractors, no competitive jealous elders, no fragmenting. Just wholeness, with grasses and birds and small natural things creeping and flitting in the eastern sunlight.

This morning I cleared one of the rose bushes of fallen branches from this week’s storms. I pricked my fingertip on one stem and laughed: like getting nicked by the kitten’s claws while we are playing, a glancing quick sharpness, light. But the rose thorn left the finest black tip in me, painful and tiny and difficult to extract. The kitten’s claw always fully retracts; roses are different, I guess. This one more like a bee sting.

This week I had hesitant news from a family member and we both understood why hesitant — because everyone knows it would and does make me mad. It’s so weird that people grow up of similar ages under the same roof and rules and come out of it and of age with altogether differing experiences. I had to sit it out overnight before responding, and when I did respond, I simply acknowledged that of course it made me mad. Mad, jealous, hurt, bewildered. And acknowledged too that I don’t really understand why. Because, really ...WHY? People are entitled to their own experiences and perspectives about anything. So I’m not mad at *you*, exactly. I just have the history and perspective that I have. That’s all.

The pandemic really did a number on anyone, I think. I’m grateful to have what I have and to have life in my body. The rest is sort of beside the point, at this point.

I know that I don’t have it in me to return to any connection in which I ever felt I had to protect myself or anticipate someone else’s feints and jabs. It surprises me who in my life did that to me, ever, and also how long I endured it and tried to get along, work around it, adapt.

Those things shouldn’t have been done or said, and those persons shouldn’t have done or said them. Ever. I know from loving my own child that there isn’t any excuse for what was done or said to me. That extends to the world of people beyond the FOO too; I don’t understand why anyone asserts dominance, control, know-it-all-isms. Like none of us are ever living in just our own skins, which naturally, is the only way we do.

I guess I don’t mind so much; in quarantine so long, I learned to steer mostly clear of other humans. But this morning for some reason when the kitten played behind me and up and down the stairs in which I sat to study breakfast, I realized his playing and proximity reminded me of friends in high school, and how we stayed idly in proximity to each other, doing each our own thing, near to each other even if not everyone was especially liked or known or understood, or favored. How a group stayed cohesive and together even in unrest or little or big misgivings, and how that was family even better than home.

We’ve operated that way in the families we made as adults, too. Everyone under the same roof and rules and sometimes just *there*, near to each other and each doing our own thing, safe in collective even in arguments or misgivings.

What I hate the most about h with ow is that he has given her both the shelter and the ongoing presence of him. We’ve missed him here more than not, and for a long time.

In the end, I finished breakfast and played with kitteh in silence, then came out and cleared brush from a rose bush, and got pricked for my doing so. Oh well.

Sometimes I think if h ever turned for home, I would have no words to say at all, about that or to him. I know I would not want to hear even one word about his time with ow, about her or the differences or similarities of what they have been. The other night I calculated how many months, weeks, days, minutes, seconds since a) their big BD and b) the moment we mutually agreed we both loved.

Their number is closing in on half of ours. I think when it reaches that 50%, that will be when I am fully done with it. With them, with him, with that aspect of my life or confusion. I feel close to done.

Waiting for something you can’t even define, is a drag. It doesn’t make sense.
  • Logged
« Last Edit: October 23, 2021, 09:51:40 AM by terra »

C
  • *****
  • Hero Member
  • Posts: 724
  • Gender: Female
Life goes on.
#129: October 23, 2021, 12:46:35 PM
Terra, as always, I find myself struck by the beauty in your words. It feels like you're in that place where there is peace and contentment at times, appreciating that you are not beholden to anyone else for your own happiness, that you don't have to walk on eggshells because of how someone else might react. The imagery of nature taking over, of the calm and green and quiet that happens when people are kept far away... there's a lot of beauty in that. And then, when in that place of simple calm, thoughts creep in, memories of how life got to a place of being neither simple nor calm. I think one of the best parts of healing is that, even when those thoughts come, it becomes possible to observe the complex chaos as it was, without having to relive the emotion of it all. Or, I guess I'm not sure you ever get to a place where you're completely an observer, but at least it feels like you become removed enough from it that the echo of the previous emotions is dampened and smoothed over a bit by time and distance.

I think many of us decide in anger that we're done, we're detached, we're not going on that ride again. It's a whole different thing to decide it in those calm moments. I wish you many more calm moments in which to move toward that decision, my friend.
  • Logged

 

Legal Disclaimer

The information contained within The Hero's Spouse website family (www.midlifecrisismarriageadvocate.com, http://theherosspouse.com and associated subdomains), (collectively 'website') is provided as general information and is not intended to be a substitute for professional legal, medical or mental health advice or treatment for specific medical conditions. The Hero's Spouse cannot be held responsible for the use of the information provided. The Hero's Spouse recommends that you consult a trained medical or mental health professional before making any decision regarding treatment of yourself or others. The Hero's Spouse recommends that you consult a legal professional for specific legal advice.

Any information, stories, examples, articles, or testimonials on this website do not constitute a guarantee, or prediction regarding the outcome of an individual situation. Reading and/or posting at this website does not constitute a professional relationship between you and the website author, volunteer moderators or mentors or other community members. The moderators and mentors are peer-volunteers, and not functioning in a professional capacity and are therefore offering support and advice based solely upon their own experience and not upon legal, medical, or mental health training.