I'm finally feeling better, thank goodness! It looks like I've survived yet again. You're right Jilly, I have been sick a lot lately. My mom thinks it's stress induced, like my immune system is down or something. I guess I can see that. She called the other day, I could tell she wanted to talk 'bout "stuff" but I kinda blew her off, choosing instead to ramble about all the unimportant goings on of our daily lives. I just couldn't deal with "real" talking right then, (like I'm ever up for such a thing) not feeling the way I was, not being in the state of mind I was (and still am) in. So, I blew her off, but she understood, as always. She knows how difficult it is for me to talk about my personal life, especially the not so pleasant stuff. She understands because she's the same way. It's easier or less painful to just deal with stuff yourself, y'know? She wants me to confide in her, but she also doesn't want to push. She gives me my space and I appreciate her for that, but at the same time I wish she would take charge and say I'm your mother, tell me everything that's going on, right now! But then again, I'm always looking for someone else to take charge, so now I guess it's time for ME to take charge.

I was feeling some (some? heh, A LOT) of anger on the Gazelle this morning. I could feel it welling up inside of me and I wanted to just rage! I wanted to kick and scream and cry and hit something! I wanted to forget about thinking and planning and worrying and deciding. I wanted to just say screw it and go file for divorce and let whatever is gonna happen next, just happen. I wanted to let loose the next time he starts in on me and say STOP IT! Just fucking stop it and shut the hell up already! I hate you and I'm done and I want out, NOW! It's like I'm never gonna do anything about this unless I just step off the edge of that cliff and let it happen. I'm never gonna be ready for it, I'm never gonna feel like I can handle it. So why do I just keep waiting around like something is gonna magically change on it's own? Maybe I should just do the deed and deal with whatever happens next. Maybe I should just allow myself to snap one day and rage back at him for a change. But the thing is, if I do either of these, then I had better be ready to follow through with it. There is no going back if I were to ever say how I truly feel during one of his rants/lectures. I'm pretty sure I would have to have him removed from the situation if I did something like that. In the past he's held me captive, sometimes physically restraining me from walking away, but mostly psychologically, once I gave up trying to remove myself, for hours on end. Relentless, just relentless, until I would finally come to see the light, until I would give in and apologize and agree how what I did was so wrong, disrespectful and hurtful, and promise to try to do better next time. Except now the promises don't mean anything to him cause he's heard it all before. So now he doesn't want to hear any promises or I'm sorry's, now he just wants me to fix it, and show him, prove to him through my actions and thought processes that I am working on what's broken about me and trying to actually change it or fix it.

Wow, I wasn't planning on going into all that again, but it just kind of came out, so there it is. What I was trying to express is what I feel may have to happen if I were to tell him to stop next time. If I were to say that I am ending this conversation and then refuse to engage him. But this time, instead of allowing him to badger me into discussing it, or allowing him to continue on after I've said I was ending the conversation, or allowing him to restrain me if I tried to walk away, what if this time I didn't put up with it and simply called the police to have him removed if he refused to stop? Maybe that's what it would take, y'know? To finally set this all into motion? It seems so pathetic though. Like I can't deal with it, like I don't have the balls to take charge of my own life and go through the regular procedures. It seems like just another way I can run away and let someone else take care of the dirty work. But at least he would know, THIS is why, y'know? Rather than just filing and blindsiding him with divorce papers. I dunno, but I do know that I want out, period. I'm just not sure how to go about doing it yet. I want to do whatever will cause the least amount of confrontation and mess, but the thing is, it's gonna be messy, no matter what I do. It's gonna be messy and nasty and painful and uncomfortable, and it's gonna feel like it's killing me and that I simply can't take it anymore. But wait, isn't that how I'm feeling now? So, what's the difference? The difference is that as it is now, nothing is changing and I will likely continue to feel this way indefinitely. But, if I just take that leap, step off the edge and land where I may, I will still feel this way... but for how long? There will, at least, still be change, there will be an end to it somewhere on the horizon, a looming resolution to it all at some point. So by taking a chance and implementing some action, the feeling will have no choice but to give way eventually, right? And then I can be free of it, once and for all. It's just a matter of taking that leap, of getting from here to there without worrying about it killing me in the process and allowing my fears to continue holding me back. I feel like I'm on the edge, just wishing I had the courage to jump, yet somehow knowing deep down that I probably never will. Just a little nudge, one small step, that's all it would take. So why does it feel so insurmountable?

sniffle, cough, hack... uuug!

I'm sick. I hab a fugging cold, an by dose is all stubbed up an runny, ug. Sorry, please excuse my pathetic plea for sympathy, I'm obviously not in my right mind. ;D

So, I went to WalMart for a few things yesterday, but all I really wanted in the world was a freakin' box of tissues with lotion in them for my sore, irritated nose. Which normally wouldn't be a problem, right? What could possibly cause a simple trip to WalMart for a box of tissues to turn into such a frustrating ordeal as it did? Well, of course, any number of things could cause that, but, here's the deal. My WalMart is currently under construction for remodeling, which, apparently means that they have to switch all the isles around (but not the signs, of course) so that us poor, hapless customers are left wandering around and disoriented, trying desperately to figure out where exactly, they now keep the fucking tissues! You know all the big wigs are sitting up there in front of their security monitors, just laughing their asses off at us idiot customers wandering aimlessly through the unfamiliar isles, just hoping we happen upon the items we're searching for. Admittedly, it was busy, which I don't deal with very well anyways, (I hate crowds) and I had Em with me, (out of school for President's day) who could honestly care less about making the trip as quick and easy as possible, (look at this mom, watch me, hold on a minute, what's that?, etc.) and by golly, I felt (still do) like crap, so I guess it's possible that I could have been a little more easily irritated than usual. Heh, now there's an understatement! ;D But dammit! By the third lap around the store, I had had ENOUGH! Luckily, I didn't go off on anyone, (not really my style, y'know?) but I thought for sure my head was about simply pop off my neck at any given moment and explode into a million little pieces. I can only assume it was my obvious desperation that encouraged the helpful little shelf stocker to actually walk me over to the tissue isle and point out where I could find what I was looking for. Said isle's position, BTW, making absolutely no sense in the new layout of the store, and couldn't possibly have been discovered by even a rational human being in search of tissues, let alone this frazzled, sick, and grumpy one, but I digress. Anyway, I finally snatched up a few boxes of precious lotion laced tissues, consulted my short list to ensure that I did, indeed, have everything I needed, wrangled Em, and then proceeded to get the hell out of dodge! Oh WalMart, what a love/hate relationship I have with you! You think, if I was rich and famous, they would close the place down for me like they do for celebrities in those fancy shmancy stores?? Ahhhh, no people or noise to disrupt my leisurely, peaceful progress up and down the isles... See, I don't ask for much, do I? ;D hehe How pathetic is it that having the store all to myself in a relaxing shopping trip to WalMart is my idea of a really good time? Good lord, I need help! ;D

Personal Indignities

Personal indignities. #6 in the third paragraph, as grounds for divorce by Arkansas state law. That's what it says; personal indignities. Could there possibly be a more appropriate term? (Thank you for the links BTW, anonymous, very very helpful and greatly appreciated) Seriously though, personal indignities? I mean, do I really want to go there? What about irreconcilable differences? That sounds like a nice, undiscerning reason, why can't Arkansas have that one on the books? You see, on the one hand, I'd like nothing more than to shout from the rooftops about all of crazy, humiliating, intimidating, bullshit we've been living with for all these years. But on the other hand, it seems easier to just leave it as my not being in love with the jerk anymore in an effort to avoid the swift and unmerciful retaliation that he would undoubtedly seek to launch. I need this to be as quick and painless as possible. Em needs this to be as quick and painless as possible. I am simply unwilling to put her through anything more than what is absolutely necessary. I can't just come out of the gates slinging accusations, however valid and justified they may be, because it would only prove to evoke his wrath, thus dragging this thing out indefinitely while making our lives even more of a miserable living hell. If I can at all avoid a character assassination, I think I should. But, I will defend myself if it becomes necessary, which it likely would, knowing him. But that's why I'm hesitant try to accurately voice my reasons to him, as he would only view them as insult and blame, and well... let's just say, hell hath no fury as a Bubba scorned. I do have some ammunition, if needed however. I've been able to record a few "conversations", which I will use to my advantage if necessary. But I'd prefer not. I'd prefer to just take the responsibility for falling out of love and making some really stupid choices, and let him continue to think that I'm just this selfish, unmotivated woman who has always been so willing to give up when the going gets tough. I don't mind playing that part, as long as he will accept my decision be willing to let go of the idea that we can somehow work this out. At this point, I am willing to do what I must to put an end to this hell. I don't need vindication or his validation, I need freedom. That's what matters most. So, would it be so wrong to just claim young and stupid as grounds for divorce, cause that's all it really boils down to anyway? I just don't think I'm up for trying to prove personal indignities or some such thing right now. That's not where I want to go with this. I just want it over and done with so I can start trying to figure out who I really am, rather than the cold, incompetent, judgmental, prudish, lazy, uncaring, selfish, stuck up, disrespectful bad wife and mother that he tells me I am during his neverending rants and "lectures", and who, perhaps, I have actually become to some degree. Honestly, I just want to avoid confrontation at all costs. I've spent years being broken of my natural desire to stand up for myself, and to tell the truth, I've become quite accustomed to it. I don't need to make everyone see him for what he really is, or what my perception of what the real Bub is. I don't need to be the victim here, regardless of how nice and comforting that would certainly be. I don't need to show the world how I've allowed myself to be treated, and what type of personal indignities I've willingly endured for the sake of peace and harmony. In fact, I'd much rather not go into such humiliating details, I mean really, what's the point? If I can somehow accomplish a satisfactory end result without resorting to such personal attacks, then what would it matter why I'm doing it? Just so long as it's done, y'know? I dunno, it just seems easier this way. And we all know how much I like easier when it comes to anything I find even remotely difficult. Hey, what I wouldn't give for one of those "easy" buttons like on the Staples commercials. Ahhhh, the shit I could accomplish with something like that! Hmmmm, what an pleasant, pleasant thought... ;D

Who'da thought?

I've been in contact with my local women's shelter, via email, in regards to my, ah-em situation w/Bub, just for advice, support, y'know, to get an idea of what kind of services they provide, etc. And in our correspondence I requested a recommendation or referral for a good lawyer, well versed in dealing the the type of man that Bub is, because I know how vital it is to have someone on my side who won't be taken in by his manipulation, and can stand up to him in a way that I seem incapable of. Anyway, one of the wonderful women I've been in contact with got back to me today with a referral to, get this, the one and only lawyer in town who Bub just happens to know personally, and would likely choose as counsel himself! Aack!! In her email, she said she would be contacting this attorney tomorrow (Thursday) to give him the lowdown on my situation and to let him know to expect my call. Double aack!! I wrote her back and asked her to please not contact him, and to let me know if, in fact, she already had, so I can do some damage control. Of course, I'm sure this attorney would never betray my confidence, but I just can't see going to someone who Bub as already snowballed with his nice-guy charade. Plus, they're friendly and it would just be awkward. And that's not even considering the fact that Bub would see it as a spiteful and intentional personal attack on my part, to retain the lawyer he would most likely want to use, before he had a chance to do so himself, y'know? Anyway, I asked her if there is anyone else in town who she would recommend, and now I'm anxiously awaiting her reply. Keep your fingers crossed that she hasn't already contacted him about me, cause that's the last freakin' thing I need right now! Oy vey!

I'm still at a dilemma about how, exactly, I would go about implementing my escape plan. This is why I want to consult an attorney, to see what my options are, and what they would recommend. I have questions about custody, and residency, especially right at first. Do I move out, and if so, is it legal to take Em with me? Cause that's the ONLY way I would ever go, as I'm not about to just leave her with him. Can I force him to leave? Can I do something to protect myself from having to be alone with him after he is made aware of my intentions? There's a million things I need to know and do before any action can be taken. I have to know that we will be protected and that there's no way possible for him to take Em from me. Not that I think he really could, but it is imperative that I'm 100% sure. I simply refuse to take any chances with her. Anyway, I guess I need to prepare a list of questions, although I'm not sure what all of them should be exactly, as I've never actually done this before, so any suggestions would be welcome and greatly appreciated! ;D

I also wonder how much of an explanation I should give to Bub, if any at all? Should I just say, I don't love you and that this isn't up for discussion? Or should I try to explain or justify my reasons, as if any explanation would suffice? I also wonder how much responsibility I should take for his dependence on me? I mean, do I just say tough titty, figure out how to transport yourself around, it's not my problem anymore? I know he'll say I'm ruining him by leaving, that he couldn't possibly keep his job or live on his own, blah blah blah. I'm sure he'll quit his only "real" job and blame it on me, which would, of course, make his income virtually untraceable, thus making the idea of child support merely a whimsical dream. But I know I can't count on any support from him, and frankly, I don't really relish the idea of having to rely on him for for anything, let alone money, once I get myself out of this mess. Ahhh, the thought of true independence, I wonder what that's like?? Probably not all it's cracked up to be, right? Well, I'll just have to find out for myself, now won't I?? ;D Y'know, it almost sounds as if my mind is made up, doesn't it? Hmmmm, not sure I'd go there just yet, but I sure as hell don't see how I could ever go back to that place of doomed resignation and acceptance of a lot in life that, quite frankly, is not worth living. I guess the time is coming for me to take some real, decisive action, and either shit or get off the pot, right? Yikes! Okay, off to bury my head in the sand once again. JK! ;D

Chocoholics Dream Night Out

Shhhhhh, this is where Em and I spent our Friday evening. (If you are unable to view, it's a promo for Chocoholics Dream Night Out, all the chocolate you can eat! benefiting our local humane society) Don't tell, but I don't think anyone knew that trapped inside this decidedly scrawny looking, thinly skin covered body, lurked an (albeit reformed) complete and utter raving chocoholic lunatic. One who, unbeknownst to this unsuspecting crowd, was about to be unleashed in all of her sweet toothed glory. I don't think anyone took much notice as they were quite busy themselves, stuffing mounds of ooey gooey decadent chocolate goodness down their own shameless throats. But I still felt like a fake and an imposter nonetheless. What was I, this self proclaimed health nut, reformed junk food junkie, and hater of all things containing refined sugars and trans fats, doing at a virtual chocolate buffet? Yes, that's right, a chocolate buffet. Picture long tables covered in every deep, rich, chocolate concoction imaginable. Chocolate caramel brownies, layered bars, cookies, rich fudgy cakes, chocolate covered peanut butter balls, nuts and candies, etc. And de piece de resistance? A free flowing milk chocolate fountain complete with various chunks and tidbits such as strawberries, marshmallows, pretzels, etc. to spear and coat thoroughly with the evil, melty liquid sweetness. And no, in case you were wondering, this former fat chick managed to exhibit some semblance of self control, and did not, at any point, "Suzanne" (TBL) the chocolate fountain to lap up every last remaining delightful drop. Anyway, I'm sure you get the picture; if it contained chocolate, it was probably there. So, are you wondering what kind of sadistic aliens would decide to travel to our humble little world for the sole purpose of kidnapping and forcing this former fat chick into consuming copious amounts chocolate? Yeah, me too! And just as a warning, 3fc'ers beware, I happen to know for a fact that these very aliens have been making the rounds at our safe little abode, and implementing various dastardly plans of attack. They've even been known to lurk around Applebee's, and other such fine eating establishments as well, right Sandi?? ;D Those damn aliens and their evil master plans! Anyway, so you're thinking, (as was I) has she learned nothing over the last 3-4 years? Isn't it against the rules for her to partake in this kind of indulgence now? Is this merely a sign of more ominous trouble to come? Just a matter of time before the statistics ring true, and she joins the countless other successful weight reducers in the almost inevitable end result of relapse and regain, right? Well... no, by god, that's not the case at all! Sure, it may have been likened to shoving an alcoholic into a liquor store and saying, have at it, but don't forget your 12 steps while you're in there. No, I went into it knowing full well that there was no possibility of "being good", I mean c'mon, a freakin' chocolate buffet! Frankly, we just skipped dinner, as I saw no real point in compounding the monumental damage of the calories we were sure to consume. So, in essence, yes, we ate chocolate for dinner, so shoot me. Anyway, I gave some thought to what this type of behavior may mean to my new way of life. If this was merely a ploy from my evil inner fat chick to destroy my hard won habits in an effort to send me spiraling into relapse? Woohoo! Score one for the inner fat chick! That bitch has been looking for an in for years now. Or could I now safely view this rare adventure into overindulgence as a special treat that I, like any other human being on the planet (chocolate haters and allergics notwithstanding, of course) has the right and perhaps obligation to partake of every once in a while? Is it okay for me to disregard the fact that I am not like all those people who can safely enjoy these kinds of special treats without it triggering an uncontrollable reaction due to a highly food addicted personality? Hmmmm, good question. Was it wrong of me? Well... no, not wrong, per say. Was it a poor choice? Perhaps... Was it my choice to make? Abso-freakin'-lutely. But... did I wake up the next morning right back in that place of addictive, binge frenzy, with no motivation or expectation of getting right back on plan? No way Jose! The day started out like any other, with nary a thought of all my hard work being for naught. Granted, I (over)indulged, yes, I thoroughly enjoyed several deeply rich and decadent treats (almost to the point of repulsion), probably consumed an unimaginable amount of calories, and yet the next morning did not find me 190 lbs. heavier, nor did it reiterate the addicted mind set of said 190 lb. heavier woman. Progress perhaps? Evolution, a new phase in this maintenance journey? I dunno. A little insight into what I can only assume is more of a feeling of normalcy? Hmmmm, maybe...? Unless the ensuing over-analyzing of said "normal" behavior completely counteracts it's inherent normalcy, but hey, one step at a time, k?! ;D My point is, that even as recently as a year ago, I never would have even considered taking part in such an event. Yet I don't view my involvement as a sign of weakness or a prelude to my eventual relapse and regain. I was able to consider it from the point of it being a very rare, special occasion. I enjoyed myself, indulged in treats that I rarely, if ever, allow to pass my lips anymore, and I managed it all without the usual dieter's remorse or self loathing and punishment that would have completely consumed me in years past. Soooo... I either gave into an almost irresistible chocolate lovers delight, while compromising my newfound stance on health and fitness along with my ever so fragile "sobriety", oooooooor, I ate some fucking chocolate, made myself a little sick in doing so, and went right back to my new "normal" way of life like it was no big freakin deal. Hmmm, either way, what's done is done, and I'm okay with that. If nothing else, that, right there, is progress. :D

I figured I'd better post something, just so you know that I'm still breathing and have yet to commit any crimes, punishable by law. Frankly, I feel like a zombie, without even the energy to put all this nonsense currently bombarding my feeble brain into words, much less in the form of a post. In fact, I find it quite miraculous that I even remain upright, and the fact that I continue to go about my daily tasks of work and motherhood just astounds me. I feel as though I'm dying inside, and forming this cold hard shell which allows for no joy to penetrate. (Please forgive me while I pay homage to my inner drama queen, even if just for a moment.) While I don't mean to sound so overly dramatic, as I am merely trying to accurately describe how I feel, the sickly sappiness of this woe is me, poor little Beverly, always the victim, doesn't she have it so fucking hard?, attitude is just oozing and seeping from every whinny syllable. And that just pisses me off! I don't want to be a goddamned victim, I want to be strong and powerful and do what's good and right and makes me happy! But then I feel so selfish because in order to make myself happy, it would have to come at the expense of others' happiness, and what exactly gives me the fucking right? Why should my happiness be any more important than Bub's or Em's? That's not fair to them either. So, of course, I remain torn and enveloped in this bullshit drama of my own making. And we all know how much I love drama, don't we? I want to say that maybe it was easier when I was still in the place of being willing to just accept things the way they are and try to make the best of them. And maybe it would be easier, but I know in my heart that I can't live that way for the rest of my life. It's just that this transition in my thinking seems almost not worth the pain it evokes. Things were easier when I chose to remain in denial, I didn't have to face my true feelings or actually consider taking some sort of life altering action. This is scary shit, and I don't like it, not one little bit.

I also wish I had never even discussed options with Em after her little revelation. Although I'm not exactly sure what I should have said to, "I wish we didn't have to live with daddy anymore.", but perhaps letting on that such an idea were even a possibility was inappropriate. I guess I just didn't want to lead her to believe that she must learn to accept her fate as a member of this family like I've been trying to do all these years. But perhaps I should have just listened and loved her, while keeping my mouth shut about what could actually be done about it. She seemed so desperate, and I didn't want to disappoint her by letting her assume that I planned allow this to continue indefinitely. She had such hope in her eyes for a day or two, as did I, but now I dunno. Lately she's been trying to fool herself and convince me that everything is fine and dandy by saying little things like, "we have such a great family, the best mommy, the best daddy, and the best daughter, and the best kitty, of course!" And, "hasn't daddy been being awfully nice lately?" Which, in fact, he has been being extra affectionate with her lately, and hasn't gone into full on Bubba lecture/rant mode with her in quite some time. I wonder if he knows on some subconscious level, that things aren't as peachy keen as he perceives? I wonder if he's trying to win her over on some level, or is it just me being overly sensitive and wanting her to remember what staying in our present situation would really mean in the long run, and hopefully change her mind again, so I can feel justified in moving forward? Or is it because I'm so obviously shutting down, and in turn, only succeeding in bringing them closer together?

Lets move on, shall we? Get this, I called Legal Aid yesterday, per my mom's suggestion, to inquire about free or low cost legal services, and you know what they said? Due to budget cuts, they could no longer take on any new divorce cases that didn't involve recent and documented physical abuse. Nice huh? Wonder if I could get him to beat the crap outta me? Then I could have a real excuse for leaving and get a little help from the county to boot! (JK, I promise.) Know what else I did? Starting blubbering like freakin' idiot as soon as they answered the phone. That's what I do, I'm a crier. Poor dude must have thought he was talking to a crazy woman. This is why I can't ever talk about this stuff, and choose to write about it instead. I just automatically turn into an incoherent cry baby any time I try to express myself vocally. Hmmm, perhaps I'm shedding a little light on that communication problem which Bub is always to quick to point out and blame all of our problems on? Maybe he's on to something there, huh? Yeah well, that still doesn't change the fact that I can't stand the jerk, so who cares, right?

Okay, I'm done for now. I just got an email from Bub saying what a bad day he's having and how much he hates his job, and that we need to "talk" tonight. My heart sank and my stomach tied in knots immediately upon reading what kind of evening I have to look forward to. The dread I feel is almost unbearable. He just wants me to say, yes, please quit your mean old job! Of course you have to do what ever makes you happy, so if that means losing the only stable form of income we've had in years, then so be it. I'll understand, (don't I always?) it'll all work out in the end. But he knows he can't just up and quit right now, so tonight will be about how everyone takes advantage of him and disrespects him and what we must do to prepare for our future. What we must do to start earning some other form of income NOW so he can finally quit this horrible, degrading job and go back to "working from home" again, here, in this house, all day long, alone with me. Dear god, I can't go through that again. Wish me luck tonight, I'm gonna need it.

Ahh, to go back to the days of posting when my biggest worries were about whether or not to keep Precious, or how Em's doing in school lately. How did I (me, the queen of enjoying the uneventfulness of life) turn this into such a living soap opera? Where's that comfort zone now when I really need it? Sorry to be so cynical and unpleasant, but this totally sucks monkey butt. Okay, now I'm really done. I'll try to be in higher spirits when I return, I promise. Thanks for listening (well, reading anyway) everyone. After all, who doesn't like a good soap opera, right? ;D

Em's revelation, my deterioration.

My baby revealed to me that she wishes we didn't have to live with daddy anymore, and that she's been thinking that way for quite a while now. She then, of course, felt immediately remorseful and ashamed for thinking such things and hadn't wanted to tell me because she thought I would be upset with her. She thought it made her a "bad person" to have these feeling about her own daddy, whom she loves and adores so much (when he's in a pleasant mood and willing to have fun and play with her). I did my best to reassure her and let her know that it's okay to feel however she's feeling and that she can always tell me about it. So we talked about what not living with daddy would mean, as far as changes to our way of life. She asked all of the appropriate 8 year old questions like who would get the video games and our beloved Precious. She wanted to know how often she would have to/get to see him, etc. etc. Of course I had no real answers since his reaction would be so unpredictable were this to actually come to fruition. I'd like to think that he'd be cooperative and understanding about the division of our things and our time with Em, but I know that won't be the case and I didn't want to scare her so I just said all that would need to be worked out between the grownups if we actually went through with this, and that she need not worry herself with things of this matter. She's worried that he'll be mad at her, and that if she could just do better he wouldn't be the way he is so much. My heart breaks for the damage he's already caused our little girl, the same damage that I perpetuate by staying. I told her in no uncertain terms that she is not responsible for ANYTHING and that daddy never needs to know that she feels this way. This is between mommy and daddy, and not for her to decide or worry or feel responsible about. Of course the conversation went on, but you get the gist of it. Basically she said she wants outta here, and NOW! I told her this is a very huge thing which must be thought through very carefully. I told her that she must consider how she would feel about having limitations on the good stuff that she likes about daddy, the fun stuff and his playfulness. That she wouldn't get to just see him everyday or whenever she wants, and that our lives would be very different. She thought about it overnight and came to me the next day saying she was absolutely sure. Then... fast forward to Sunday evening. He hadn't been on her case very much that day and was having a relatively good day, (with her) being quite affectionate and playful. They were in the floor watching a movie all cuddled up together and he kissed her on the forehead and said I love you. She turned to me when he looked away and mouthed nevermind, don't do the divorce thing. Oh dear god, what have I started? When we talked about it later she said that she changed her mind, that she was just mad and she didn't want to give up all the fun stuff. She loves him and wants us to stay with him. She said she's never gonna even think about all that stuff again and wants me to do the same. Just put it out of our minds and try to make due. I am crushed. I know that I can't depend on the whims of an eight year old to decide our fate, but how could I possibly move forward with something that she is now so adamantly against? I know it's silly but I felt empowered and really hopeful when I thought that she was all for this, as her reaction was one of the things I've been most concerned about. But now that I know for a fact that she's against the idea, well I just don't think I can go through with it. I know that as her mother, I have to be willing to do what's best for her (both of us) regardless of how she may feel. But her feelings and opinions must play a role in this kind of decision, don't they? God, I just don't want to screw her or this situation up more than it already is. I just want to do the right thing, and I'm not so sure what that is. I guess I know in my heart that we would probably be better off on our own, but is that really worth sacrificing my daughter's trust in me? I can't bear the thought of her hating or resenting me, but it's like I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't. So today, I'm just lost, spinning out of control on this emotional rollercoaster. It was all I could do to drag my sorry ass on that Gazelle this morning rather than just crawl back in bed and hide under the covers. The only things keeping me from doing just that, are the fact that Em deserves a better mom than that, and that if I did finally succumb to the depression it would only give Bub even more to use against me were a custody battle ever to actually take place. So, I shall continue on, going through the motions, even if I am a complete blubbering idiot during my precious moments of solitude. I half suspect that Em is merely trying to convince herself that all is right with the world and that we really can learn to be one big happy family if we just stick it out. Of course, what happens the next time he starts in on her, I wonder? Will she just change her mind again and continue to do so until I finally do something about it? As much as she expressed she's fed up with living this way, I really expect it to only be a matter of time before she flip flops again. But in the meantime, I'm just a mess. I refuse to push her in ANY way about this, as no child should ever feel torn in such adult matters. I want her to feel safe feeling whatever she feels, and know that I love her and will be there for her no matter what. But in a way, I almost wish now that she had never revealed her little secret, because at least then I could have remained happily in denial that she would just accept whatever happened and that it would all work out in the end. Now, I'm just not so sure. So yeah, you could say that I'm not having a very good day, but then again, what else is new? Any word yet on the do-over I put in for? It's about damn time, don'tcha think?

I'm starting to experience a profound sense of urgency to plan and prepare for the inevitable. Yes Jilly, the moment you've been waiting for, I finally feel as though there's been a definite change in mindset. From that of hopeless resignation to one of a more hopeful impending resolution. I'm not exactly sure what this will mean just yet, I just know that I feel different. I feel that maybe I really can do what everyone else who's stuck in a miserable marriage does, cut my losses and try to move on. I've said before that ending it wasn't an option, but why not? I owe him no explanation, as if one would ever be good enough anyway. The fact is, I don't love him and I'm deeply unhappy, which is affecting who I am, and the mother and woman I'd like to be. Why should I have to suffer through it till the end of time? What did I ever do to deserve a life sentence of unhappiness? (whaaaa, poor me, please indulge me while I play victim just a wee bit longer, k?) Just because I made some freakin' huge ass stupid mistakes? Doesn't everyone? Just because I allowed him to hoover me (as in the vacuum cleaner, sucking me back in) after I tried to end it last time, and I made promises that I've realized I'm just unable to keep? At what point is enough enough? At what point do I just tuck my tail and say yes, I screwed up and I have no excuse for it, but what's done is done, and I'm not doing it anymore? I can't just allow my monumental mistakes hold me prisoner forever out of some sort of deranged sense of obligation. There is life beyond Bubba, it may be unimaginably scary and difficult, but the thought of freedom, the sense of day to day relief from not having to walk on eggshells makes all the scary shit sound so worthwhile. To be able to think and feel however I like without fear of reprimand or consequence. To live by rules of my own making, answering only to myself, and being soley responsible for whatever choices I make in life. I want it, I can taste it, I crave it.

I've begun discussing things with my mom via email. I just couldn't face her over the phone as my shame was too profound and I feared my voice would betray me. It's bad enough what a blubbering mess I am just trying to write the difficult words, imagine how incomprehensible they would be were I to actually try to speak them. She has been wonderful, offering advice and wisdom through her own experiences in divorcing my dad. Of course, he was nothing like my husband as Bub is truly one of a kind, but I can relate to her experiences from the standpoint of having to start anew with kids and bills and the fear of jumping head first into the vast unknown. She's said that she wishes she could rush out here, hold my hand, and make it all better. Oh dear god, what an appealing thought! If only she could come sweep me away and make all the bad stuff disappear, it would be so much easier. But that's just my problem, I'm always looking for the easy way out. Sure, she could fly out here and hold my hand. I'm sure she would help me pay for an experienced divorce lawyer, help me find and set up a new place to live, be with me when it comes to breaking the news to Bub so I wouldn't be alone and he wouldn't feel like he could react in his natural manner. She could help me pack and move and deal with all the overwhelming details. And what would I get from all of her wonderful support and help? Another easy way out, another excuse to not have to deal with my life all by myself. What lesson would I learn if I don't do this myself? I've always relied on others to take care of the truly hard stuff for me, and this would certainly be no exception, but damn if the thought doesn't just appeal to my very core! Perhaps I need not be a martyr, maybe it's really is okay to just ask my mommy for help and let her make it all better. Oh, if only it were that easy! But if I don't learn to stand on my own two feet then how will I ever be able learn from my mistakes and not repeat them in the future? I do wish she, or someone, could just make it all go away though. Just wake up tomorrow and all the difficult deeds would be done. No second guessing and trying to gear myself up for whatever is to come. Over and done with, and on to deal with whatever may happen next. It seems easier for me to deal with whatever is happening once the ball is actually rolling because by that point I have no choice but to deal, but getting to that point is where I freeze up. I tend to put off taking action until the last possible moment, the point at which I have no choice but to do something about it. Again, it's that idea of letting the choice be taken out of my hands, maybe as a way to avoid taking responsibility for it?

Well, since I'm obviously rambling in an attempt to clear my confuzzled head, I'll offer yet another little tidbit I've been kicking around for a while now. What if I'm just idealizing the dissolution of this horrible marriage in much the same way I've come to realize I did for losing the weight? What if I've been telling myself that staying with Bub is all that is holding me back from finding happiness, and that getting out of this marriage would automatically solve all of life's problems like I thought being skinny would do? See where I'm going with this? I realized, much to my shock and amazement that being thin was not the end all beat all, and that all of the problems that I had so conveniently blamed on obesity were still oppressively present after shedding 190 lbs., only now they were no longer covered in layer upon layer of protective fat. So, of course, I have to wonder if I'm placing the same kind of expectations on life after Bub? What if I find out that I really am the root of all my problems?? What if I really am selfish and incompetent, thoughtless and uncaring, stupid and naive, and unable to make it on my own? A bad mother, a bad wife, a bad person in general. What if I really do have lacking communication skills and still continue to put others off by my standoffish behavior? What if I've just been blaming and resenting him for everything that's wrong in my life, even though I've said that I take full responsibility for my mistakes, choices and actions, what if deep down, I still pin all my unhappiness on him, when it's really me who has the problems? So then I have to wonder, what if I actually do follow through and finally put an end to this marriage only to discover that I'm just as miserable as I was before, but now I have to deal with being miserable all on my own, with my own financial obligations, the struggle of being a single mom, and living through the hell of divorcing and fighting a custody and character battle with Bub, and dragging poor Em through hell and back? What if I realize that it really wasn't worth all the pain and hurt, and that I was actually better off just trying get by with things as they are? What if I realize that I alone have turned all of our worlds upsidedown for nothing? That I'm still just the miserable shell of a woman that I've always been, only now straddled with guilt and remorse, and a resentful daughter to boot? Dear god, what could I be getting myself into? How do I know if I'm doing the right thing when I've proven to be so obviously shrouded in denial and resentment? Or am I just caught up in second guessing myself because after years of trying so diligently not to mess up, I can't even freakin' decide for myself what's right or wrong anymore? Ugh! I wish someone could just tell me, here, this is what you have to do, and this is how you have to do it, and that's it, no looking back. I wish I had a goddamned backbone and could freakin' start to act like the grown-ass, almost 29 year old woman that I am, instead of some scared little child who solves her problems by ignoring them and waiting for others to fix it all for her. Why do I have to make this so fucking hard? Why why why, blah blah blah! Okay, even I'm sick of hearing myself bitch and moan, so I'm done... for now. ;D

Just stuff

Awww, y'all know me so well! I really had you guessing for a bit, didn't I?? But alas, I'm here to stay. You didn't really think you could get rid of me that easily, did'ja??

Hmmm, what to write about today? I've got a horribly annoying headache that just refuses to budge regardless of my trusty 'ol Excedrin Migraine. Ug! While I certainly don't get headaches as severely or as frequently as I used to, a real doozey will still sprout up every now and then and hit me over the head like a ton of bricks, ouch! :(

I picked up a new read at the library yesterday called Ditch That Jerk by Pamela Jayne. How appropriate, huh? It's been extremely enlightening so far (only a few chapters in at this point) and I hope it will help me to gain a little insight into my own situation. But I'll post a more in-depth review once I've finished it. One good thing about Bub being legally blind is that he hardly takes notice of anything I'm doing. I could literally read this book right in front of him and he'd be none the wiser. It's also nice because I can roll my eyes all I want at the stupid shit he's spouting off, and he remains totally clueless! Hehe, hey so what if it's juvenile, I'll take what I can get! But really, I am keeping this book safely tucked away for private reading only, just in case, y'know?

Man, I have been a total nibble monster this week! Munching on this, munching on that, and mostly on crunchy carbs too, like my beloved Go Lean Crunch. Sure, it may be in very small amounts, but that's still so very unlike me, or unlike the new, healthier me I should say. But very much like the old me, which is a completely scary notion. I'm not feeling out of control or anything, just a little too lax, and perhaps in need of a bit more structure when it comes to my overzealous tasting and nibbling. I'm sure it's probably just stress induced anyway, but I will be keeping an eye on it nevertheless.

TBL Family Edition is on tonight, which I hope to enjoy while Gazelling away, just so long as this pesky headache decides to hit the road, but the jury's still out on that one. I'm not gonna kill myself trying to get in my extra Gazelle time, so if my head tells me to give it a rest already, I'll listen... begrudgingly of course, but I will listen. I already skipped my crunches for today, as I just couldn't handle the pressure and thought my eyes might surely pop right outta my head! Damn headache, be gone with ye!

So, is it obvious that I'm trying to avoid any sensitive issues in favor of unimportant blathering? Yeah, I'm still a little weirded out (no offense Aunt Sandy, still just me being me) but I'll get back to normal, I promise. For now I'll just close with this funny and completely appropriate little tidbit sent to me by my wonderful Aunt in an effort to brighten my day, which BTW, worked like a charm thank you very much!

He didn't like the casserole
And he didn't like my cake.
He said my biscuits were too hard...
Not like his mother used to make.

I didn't perk the coffee right
He didn't like the stew,
I didn't mend his socks
The way his mother used to do.

I pondered for an answer
I was looking for a clue.
Then I turned around and smacked him...

Like his Mother used to do.


Heehee, that one's a keeper!! :D