Monday, July 30, 2007

I'll wait for you there, Alone...

I have been struggling with my feelings lately. My feelings about getting older, about being alone vs. being lonely, feelings of dissappointment, rejection. You name it, I am feeling it.

Let me begin at the beginning here. I recently turned 39. Began my fourtieth year. My Prince no has not lived with me since November of 2006. He refers to his grandparents house as his "home" now. I have just put an offer on a two family house I am interested in buying so I can share a residence with my parents and help my mother with my father as his health deteriorates at a rapid pace. I mentioned this to the AH over the weekend and he made no reference to whether he was invited to join us or not. So in a matter of a few short months I will probably, finally be divorced. It will be just La Petite and I and my parents. Somehow this seems like a great big step backward not forward.

I spoke with my therapist last week about my contuinued reluctance to leave this man whom I have not felt romantic love for in a very, very long time. A man who does not meet or fulfill a single one of my needs, a man who treats his children like third class citizens. And yet, I am still plagued with doubts. And I think I am finally understanding why. I am hurt that he doesnt want me either. Arent I just a bit too old to be feeling this way? Still the constant need to be needed, just a little girl wanting to be wanted by a boy? I am scared to death that I will end up alone and yet I have alone for the better part of 10 years. This man does not fulfill me emotionally, physically or spiritually. It is like I have a tenant living in my house who occasionally eats meals with us and runs errands for me.

I guess I have always been reluctant to feel my feelings. This is perhaps the reason why I have excelled in co-dependency. My therapist suggested that my self esteem seems to be at issue here. That I do not feel that I am worthy of being loved. As I reflect on this I realize that the two men in my life that I always thought would love and want me, well they do not. The soul mate moved on and lives a parrallel life to me. Life with an active alcoholic that he thinks he can cure, and her son that he thiks he can save. And AH, it seems has had enough and is willing to travel his owns life path now. With no interference or emasculation from me.

So it will be just me. What a strange journey this will be, and I hope you will all stay by my side as I travel it.

Friday, July 27, 2007

I have been tagged by Tab. I LOVE being tagged, so here goes....

8 Things about me (that you never asked to hear)
1- The second toe on my right foot is longer than the rest. It also has a weird hourglass shape to it. I am so vain that I have thought often over the years of having painful surgery to correct this. I still may do it.

2- I have never really enjoyed sex with AH. I have not slept with him in over 3 years. I have no idea what he does for sex, nor do I care.

3- As a result, I have gone astray with 4 different men over the years. Each one, more innapropriate than the one before him.

4- I don't think that I have ever really been in love. With the exception of my children, I have come to seriously doubt my ability to love completely and unconditionally.

5- I am often embarrassed by my family.

6- I am average. Average intelligence, average height, average looking, average athletic ability and I hate it. I always wanted to stand out from the crowd.

7- I have been more honest on this blog than I have ever been in my real life. For some reason, this is easy for me. It is refreshing and cleansing.

8- My mother is my best friend.

So now I tag: Working Mom
Scout
Judith
Beth

Have fun kids....

Thursday, July 26, 2007

Wednesday, July 25, 2007

Illusions never change...

As I stood in line Sunday morning at Strabucks, I took took notice of the man in front of me. This is a habit of mine. I do more than a quick glanceover to the person in front of me on a line, I study them, I listen to their conversations. I check for a wedding ring, try to see if they are wearing socks, who designed their bags, etc. and then I try to figure out if they seem happy, and if so what they have done differently than I did to achieve that.

This particular man was not very well groomed, his neck needed shaving, his hair was too long and without lines, his clothes were shabby: stained, ill fitting jeans, paint stained workboots, and maybe a torn t-shirt representing his favorite beer. A wedding ring. I heard him speaking to one of the baristas behind the counter, and he is apparently expecting his first child with his wife. He was so excited. It is going to be a boy. Then he started saying how afraid he was, that his new son might end up a derelict one day just like he was/is. I appreciated his honesty and forthrightness about this. I think those of us who did not have perfect childhoods, messy adoleecence, lacking ivy league degrees, feel this way about our offspring but so few are afraid to vocalize it. To give it a voice. To say, hey, I wasn't perfect, I'm still not, and now I am bringing another person in this world and I have no idea how to prevent history from repeating itself.

But you should have seen the sh-t eating grin on his face when he talked about his wife and un-born baby. Pure joy. I don't remember feeling that way when I got pregnant and married (yes, in that order). I can only remember the fear. Was I doing the right thing, was I old enough, smart enough, loving enough to raise a child? I have that same fear as the days wind down and I need to discuss with AH my plans. I have decided to buy a two-family house with my parents to help out my mom with my dad. She can help with La Petite and I willnot have to rent. I will still own something. It is a win-win situation.

But that fear, is something that always haunts me. Fear of making another bad decision and the ramifications that will follow in its path. But the funny thing is, if you were staning behind me in a line at Strabucks, you would never know it.

Monday, July 16, 2007

And there he was this young boy, stranger to my eyes...

Exhausted, I fell into to bed somewhere around 10:30 on Thursday night. I fell immediately to sleep which is not my normal sleep pattern. The phone ringing somewhere around 11:15 p.m. startled me into wakefulness, with a feeling of dread, cause you know that the phone ringing after 11 p.m. is never a good thing. My father in law was on the other end and he was asking to speak to AH. I asked why, and if everything was OK with the Prince and he kept insisting to talk to AH. I got a bit nasty and insisted he tell me what the F was going on with my son. He told me that the Prince was being taken by ambulance to the local hospital, that he apparently was in some kind of fight and needed stitches on his face and he wasn't sure what else.


I went downstairs and woke up AH and gave him the phone and then I went to get dressed to head for the hospital to see how this latest drama would unfold. AH came up and asked me where I was going. When I told him I was going to the hospital, he was annoyed and asked why I was going. I mean seriously, is this a joke or what? My son is being taken by ambulance to the hospital, regardless of how minor or major the reason for it, I need to be there. Period.

I arrived at the hospital before the ambulance did. I waited for him to arrive and was relieved to see when he did, he was basically OK. He was bloody, he had taken a nice punch to the face that resulted in him cutting up the inside of his mouth enough to require stitches, and he was drunk. He was mostly coherent by that time, but he reeked of alcohol and his eyes were bloodshot and he had been crying. This is a kid who simply can not handle alcohol at all. We went outside so he could smoke a cigarette and so we could talk and I could try to get an idea of what had happened. He had somehow ended up at his ex-girlfriends (#2) house, and her parents, and my mother in law were all in the ER waiting with us.

OK, first things first, where did he get the alcohol? Not that this is an impossible or even difficult task, but the answer was disturbing to me. Earlier that evening he was at my house to clean out his fish tank full of stagnant water and rotting dead fish after my many, many requests. I had taken La Petite to the movies and was not home when he was there. Apparently AH decided to go out as well. The Prince told me when he was at the house he decided to check and see if his father was still drinking and he rummaged through his work bag and found his vodka, and he stole it. Not for any particular reason, he just decided to take it and drink it. Maybe he was subconsciously trying to punish his father, maybe he is looking for his attention, or maybe he just wanted the free booze. Only he knows the answer to this particular question.


He kept babbling that he was going to get "whoever" had done this to him, as he had no idea who had hit him. I had managed to get from him that he had called his old ex-girlfriend (#1), the one who I have referred to a while back in this blog as the Toxic Princess. (I have spent the good part of an hour trying to link to the post in question: http://cloudiebay.blogspot.com/2007/02/beautiful-disaster.html with a pretty little tag, I just cant do it, sorry) . So either he called her or she called him and then he went to the more current ex-girlfriends (#2) house to be "safe". This is where the story becomes a bit convoluted. The police told me at this point, he was antagonizing whoever it was that hit him, provoking him, saying, c'mon, go ahead, hit me, and the kid hit him. One clean shot to the jaw that sent the Prince to the ground, blood spewing from his mouth. Too drunk to withstand the punch, to identify the puncher or defend himself or recall what had happened.


The ex-girlfriends (#2) parents came out, and seeing so much blood and the Prince lying in a pool of it, they called an ambulance in case he was seriously injured and then called his grandmother. Thankfully, after 3 or 4 hours in the ER, the extent of the injuries sustained by the Prince were nominal. A few stitches to the inside of his mouth, no fractures to the jaw and a very badly bruised collar bone which was initially suspected to be broken. A few Motrin and some antibiotics to ward off infection and we were sent on our way.


Throughout our time in the ER, the Prince kept asking me where his father was. I told him he was home with La Petite. I did not have the heart to tell him his dad had no interest in being there with his son. And I have to be honest, it took every inch of restraint I had in me to hold this back. It just amazes me that this kid is still desperately seeking his fathers approval. When I got home somewhere in the vicinity of 4 a.m. I realized AH did not bother to call or wait up to learn the outcome of his first born sons injuries. How sad is that?

Thursday, July 12, 2007

Theres got to be something better than in the middle...

As I sat at my kitchen table last night, reading our local paper, a photograph of the local councilman, mayor and an Eaggle Scout being honored caught my eye. The boy had achieved some kind of high court eaggle scout honor. After closer observation, I realized it was a friend of the Prince's. This is the kid who my Prince had taken his first drink with, (which incidentally resulted in the two of them vomiting vodka and grapefruit juice all over my den), they had, in their own words, "started their drug career" together. Everything from marijuana, pills, inhalants to cocaine. Before we were able to get the Prince into a program, the two of them proudly proclaimed together throughout their sophomore and junior years of high school, that they started together, and they would end together, and that rehab was for quitters and they weren't going to end it like that.

While the Prince was in the program, I had heard various reports of the level of this kids drug use. Sometimes I was told he was out of control, popping xanax like candy, he smoked so much pot he was "yellow", sometimes I heard he was clean, just smoking a little pot. I never really get the full story. All I know is, for the last 4 years he has been an active drug user, dealer and who knows what else, and now he has achieved some high eaggle scout honor and is smiling nice and pretty for the camera with the mayor and the councilman with his parents standing, smiling and proud next to him. The same parents who once cursed us out because he heard the boys were smoking hash in my garage. And my prince, well he is stocking shelves for a local marina.

I just can not understand why this has happened to us, and how I can prevent it from happening to La Petite. Why is it that my kids have been unable to achieve any small successes? I know better than to blame myself, but it is getting harder and harder to not these days. I mean this kid was a major player in the local drug culture in our neighborhood and now he is a highly honored scout, one to be looked up to and emulated by the youth in my community? I don't f-ing think so.

I know my bitterness here is palpable. My relationship with the Prince is not in a great place. He does not pick up his cell phone when I call him. This burns me up. We have a family vacation planned for early August and I need to be sure he has cleared the time off with his boss, I have other things I need him to take care of at my house. Belongings of his he needs to go through as I prepare to move out of this house. He has admitted to me that he has smoked pot recently and I know he is still drinking. If he is admitting to pot and alcohol, I am afraid to think what he is really using. I have not seen him since his birthday, so I cant even tell from looking at him.

So clearly I have not moved out of my dark, bleak mood just yet. I am going to try to catch a meeting in the next few days and maybe do some reading. Something here just has to give. I hope I am not becoming too dull and whiny for those of you who read my rantings. Either way I am sending lots of love to you all....

Monday, July 09, 2007

So here it is, another chance; wide awake you face the dayy...

I spent almost all of yesterday in bed, napping and enjoying the air conditioning, continuing to feel sorry for myself. La Petite has an overnight trip today with his camp. He is very excited and I was able to find pleasure in his delight and excitement about the trip. I had to drop him off early for camp, at 7:20 this morning. He is usually picked up at the house by bus at the house around 8:30 or so.


Last summer, the Prince was still living with me and I had to drop him off at his bus stop for his program and then I would drop off La Petite at camp. This morning reminded me of those days last summer. The Prince had just gotten clean and he looked so good. He had just started seeing a new girl and he was in love. I would get up early, make them breakfast and I would drive them to their stops and it was pleasant, nice actually. Things were hopeful. This morning made me feel sad that the Prince seems so far away from us. I feel kind of like I have been kicked in the teeth, that all I have done for him is forgotten. Do not misinterpret this to mean that I wish he was still living with me, but I do not. It just strikes me as sad, how broken apart my family is. I miss the days of making my kids lunch and their breakfast. It is nice to have peace in the house, but sometimes it is just a little too peaceful. It doesn't feel like a family anymore. We barely cook, we throw something quick together or go out for dinner most nights. It is just so empty.


Saturday morning I woke up early. La Petite had a friend sleep over and they stayed up late playing video games. It was a beautiful hot summer morning and I sat on the porch drinking my coffee. Alone. AH didn't get out of bed until 11:30 and by then I was running around with the boys and starting the day. The kids went swimming and I had some errands to run. Alone. I think that is what is really starting to get to me. So much aloneness. No one to have a freaking cup of coffee with, no one to spend the day with. La Petite is starting to really blossom and is starting to have a nice little social life of his own. I need a partner, a best friend, a lover. Or at least someone to have my coffee with. And this is what stirs up my toxic behavior.

Saturday, July 07, 2007

Tell me, what are you going to seek? The best through the worst? Virtue through vice?

Every once in a while, I find myself laying in bed, visualizing, actually seeing myself laying in that same bed, but with a greater sense of serenity and maybe being settled and happy for once. I had this feeling last night as I lay down and tried to go to sleep.

I believe this maybe my higher power telling me that some day, things will be different. Maybe not better, maybe not perfect, but different. Or maybe I believe I feel this way when I start to pull my head out of my butt and see that I have been running away again.

For as long as I can remember, I have been doing this. When I start to really feel depressed and sad and the reality of my life becomes too hard to bear, I run from it. I overbook myself. I spend too much time with friends socializing. I stay out of the house as much as I can, I let my bills fall behind, I let the house get messy and I just run and run and run.

It occurred to me yesterday that I am letting the Prince slip away from me. I am angry with him for not graduating HS and not doing anything about it instead of being proud of him for working time. I am angry at AH for being an alcoholic and disappointing me in this marriage and yet I have stayed here for far, far too long. I am angry with my Dad for being so sick and for not being able to take care of me and help me instead of spending more time with him and enjoying the time he has left and appreciating him for who he still is. I am sad because my brother is not the man I wish he was and hurt by the way he treats me and yet I do nothing to try to improve the relationship. I am jealous of friends who have become more successful in both their family and careers, so I pull away from them and allow the friendships to disintegrate and then feel sorry for myself that I have so few real friends left. I am profoundly sad about how little I speak to or see my prince and feel angry and resentful of him for not making more of an effort to be a part of my life, while I sit back and let these feelings fester instead of trying harder to be closer to him.

So I start to run. Push these feelings deep inside of me and avoid returning my therapists phone calls and I go shopping and spend money that I do not have on things I do not need. And I feel alone. So unbelievably alone. And I do no t know how to fix it. I do not know how to fix me. I do not know how to stop feeling sad and sorry for myself and resentful and jealous and the stinking thinking just consumes me until I run myself ragged trying to get away from pain and then I am so exhausted I just sleep. And then I wake up. Alone. And start the cycle all over again.

Friday, July 06, 2007

Why should I feel sad, for what I never had, nothing, equals nothing...

It has been an interesting week here in my little corner of the world. Last week I posted about having a few extra vaca days, I tacked them on to the 4th of July holiday and took a nice 5 day weekend. AH suggested that since I have this unexpected time off we take La Petit and his friend to Montauk for a few days. I was skeptical about having to spend so much time alone with AH, we do not get along very well, and we rarely spend any time alone together.

We booked a little suite on the ocean, a nice little place and we spent the afternoons alternating sitting by the pool or the beach. In the evenings we walked a bit threw the little town and had dinner and we made a bonfire on the beach to toast marshmallows. Lots of people were setting off some pretty nice fireworks at night, so we had out own little private show. It was pretty cool.

I thought maybe spending some time together would some how renew us, bring us back. It did not. It was not awful or miserable or even terribly painful. But we have progressed to a place where we are more like brother and sister. We can carry on a conversation, but nothing too deep, or we will argue. We have very little left in common, I don't care about his job and he doesn't care about mine. We no longer really have any mutual friends and our philosophies on parenting also differ greatly. His drinking is frightening. Non-stop, from early in the afternoon (if you can consider 11:45 a.m. "early" afternoon) until bed time. He justified it by saying it is Montauk, it is vacation, etc. Not that I made any mention of it. I know better at this point in my life. It was funny, he was trying to encourage me to drink with him. Suggesting a frozen cocktail to me at noon. No one likes to drink alone I guess, not that it stopped him. I worried that La Petit would be embarrassed in front of his friend at the amount his father was drinking. He doesn't appear drunk unless you know him. He does get a little looser, but he carries the same demeanor unless he switches to vodka.

It has been a long time since I have been around him long enough to witness the drinking and his habits. Its funny how it all comes back to you and it just served to show me that there is truly nothing left between us. He offers nothing to me that I want. I can tolerate this until the house is sold, and I feel hopeful that we will part in a positive way. He is still an attractive man and I am sure he will meet someone quickly if he is so inclined. I don't feel love or sadness at the lack of it coming from him anymore. I guess it is more like a mutual, understanding? For lack of a better word.

Anyway, I am still really crazed here at work and I just wanted to post quickly to catch up and send out some love to all of you. I will try to make the rounds this morning.