Is It Real?

In a couple hours, the closing for my former “marital residence” will take place. Neither I nor my ex will be there, but the attorney’s and realtors will be there to do their thing(s). Have you ever seen a real estate sale breakdown from the seller’s perspective? This is my first time, and I have to say that everyone that can stick their hand in the pot will do so. Transfer fees, association document fee, moving deposit, taxes, mortgage pay off, two lawyer’s fees for a divorce, and I’m sure I’m missing something else… The bottom line, net proceeds from a $95,000 condo sale is $16,700. Yep, that’s it.

Some people would be thrilled with $16,700. It’s nothing to turn your nose up at, but for someone with 60+ thousand dollars in unpaid, overdue debt; it is a drop in the bucket. Enter the next attorney: round three is Chapter 7 bankruptcy. I will be filing next week. My attorney already has all my financial documentation and a blank check for filing fees and his fee. My mother will be taking a good chunk of money right away toward the new flooring we installed to make her place livable. I’ll be left with maybe $1000 in “play” money, half of which will go to pay off two small personal loans long overdue repayment to family/friend, and the other half toward a much needed trip (hopefully). The rest of it goes in the bank for a rainy day, a used car, and/or towards a down payment somewhere down the line after my credit scores come back from the dead.

After the bankruptcy is filed, a long, arduous journey toward financial stability begins. Budgeting will ensue while trying to swing earning a master’s degree, working full time, and taking care of an almost four year old. All this while nurturing a healthy, loving relationship with my partner, helping him grow, both growing in our program, and doing all this packed snuggly into my mother’s condo. Oh boy, I think I need to start thinking about healthy ways to relieve tension, as I don’t want to take it out on the people I love and feel like I already am. Perhaps I will look into a cheap gym membership down the block or at the YMCA. Although playing the guitar is a good stress reliever, I am no good at it and need to make time for lessons. Exercising is one thing I can just pick up and do anytime, and I know it will work for me as it always has.

There are not enough hours in the day to do all the things I’d like to do. I want to keep learning to play, I am learning Japanese on my breaks at work on my phone, going back to school to pursue a new career… it’s all new, crazy, scary, exciting, exhausting, and weird. So, I think something grounding (along with maintaining my recovery program) is going to be more than necessary to keep me from flying off the handle. We all need something like that to help us through awkward transitional times, in my opinion. Yet the thought of making another commitment to anything right now is exhausting. Perhaps I shall take up my yearly fall running until it gets to be too cold outside. Then I can reconsider the whole gym thing. Sure why not?

Future plans aside, living in the now, today is going to be a good day. I am taking a step toward financial security, another step away from my ex, and finishing yet another huge, difficult life change. I have a three day weekend to look forward to, I get to leave work early today, and if all goes as planned, I can rest a little easier tonight. Time will tell, but it won’t be a long wait. About 3 hours to go, and I will know my fate. Is this for real?

Self Worth

Maybe it is because I am exhausted from the move, sleep deprived from getting used to a old-new home, or because I have been more or less sick for two and a half weeks now, but I am having a hard time feeling like I deserve all the good things I have and the wonderful people in my life. In my head I ask myself, What the hell did I ever do to deserve so much love and support? I have had to lean on my partner and the help of AA friends and family so much lately that I feel like a leech. The move has been stressful, and I use humor to try and diffuse any tension arising from it. I hope my partner knows just how much I really am grateful for all his help.

I don’t feel like I deserve all this. Granted, I am living in a two bedroom condo with two adults, my son, and four cats, but I have a place to live. My mother has company for the first time in almost 7 years; good company in who knows how long. I get the chance to make up for being a shitty person in the past to her. My son gets to live with another person who loves him, in a great school district, and so far, all the cats are transitioning flawlessly. My partner has done so much; moving, running around, dropping this off, picking this up, being there for my son, my mother, and me in so many ways. I just don’t even know how to being to repay him. I hope this move turns out to be as beneficial for him as it does for everyone else. I hope we all grow and benefit mutually, but as I said, I feel lacking in my contribution.

I suppose all that I can do is try to get well and do my best to help everyone move forward. I’m no good to anyone in this state of mind and body. Feeling less than worthy and physically sick really takes it’s a lot out of me. I want to give, help, improve, love, shine, grow, but I feel like all I can manage to do is to survive each day. I need to restore my health and self love so that I can help and show my love as much as I want to. I am hoping that if I can just hang on until Friday (when we close on the condo), I will be able to do just that; rest, restore, and revive my best self so that I can contribute to life as I want to.

Nine to Six Feet Under

I was never cut out for the corporate world. The thought of 9am-5pm jobs made me shudder. I could hardly handle 8am-3pm in high school. When I was little I would tell anyone to their face I would “NEVER” work for someone else. I was going to be my own boss. Reality really likes to kick me in the teeth.

Before I knew it, I was working for my high school as a tech intern, then Dominos for one “glorious” summer, then I started my brief job at Best Buy around 4:30am on Black Friday that year. Finally, I found myself with a 9-5pm job at the company my mom worked for, Adventist Midwest Management Services. This company was bought out several years ago, but I spent ten years there; on and off during school breaks and finally as a full time employee after graduating from college. My Bachelor of Arts degree is in English Literature. I graduated, however; at the end of 2009, and the job market was not doing well. I fell back into the world of medical billing/collections and haven’t been able to get myself out since.

I jumped to a different big medical billing company after I got married hoping for a challenge and upward mobility, but I just found more of the same monotonous boredom that tortured me all day long. So I made the decision to quit and become a personal trainer. I got certified the same night I passed another test; a pregnancy test. Back I went to the world of medical billing to save up for the bundle of responsibility now on its way.

It was hard to tell  I was pregnant until month 7 or 8. I was running right up until I got put on bed rest. One long night in the hospital with steroid injections and magnesium sulfate fun, and then I was home. But my son was impatient to get out into the world. I was back at the hospital in for a ten day stay with talks with NICU doctors as well as a surgeon in the even I started hemorrhaging after giving birth. Due to a low lying placenta, I was at risk and a hysterectomy would have been the only salvation. Three weeks prior I’m running in the fall breeze, now I was hoping my son and I made it through alive.

Blood pressure medication, of all things, kept contractions under control. As long as I took it and was on bed rest, the little bugger would keep cooking and I got the first chance I had in years not to be working full time. I knew that as soon as I went off the medication it was “go time.” So my pregnancy was kind of unique in that I could time when I was going to go into labor. It was a Saturday morning when I stopped taking the medication.  I went out with my mom to go buy a baby blanket and get some food and fresh air before the big event. My son was born at 5:43 am the next morning. Everything went fine aside from major game plan change of getting an epidural at 6cm. I wanted an all natural birth, but for all intents and purposes, I had been having contractions for a month and a half. Enough was enough and god bless that anesthesiologist!

Anyway, back to the topic of work. I found being a stay-at-home-mom to be far more work than a 9-5pm job, but it was much more rewarding and far less boring. I was fortunate enough to have almost two years at home with my son before I had to reenter the workforce full time. It was necessary as I had filed for an order of protection against my ex and (obviously) planned to file for divorce. In the span of a week and a half, I got a brand new car without a penny down or a job, found a daycare I wasn’t completely terrified to leave my son at, and found a job that started the Monday after I interviewed. Talk a bout a whirlwind; It was a crazy, stressful, and challenging time.

After the initial anxiety of leaving my son in the care of strangers for 9-10 hours a day, I found some appreciation for being back in the world of adults; working to support myself and my son. Alas, it was again in the field of medical billing, and after no more than six months I was, once again, bored to tears. A mixture of infatuation with my new love, hatred for my cubicle jail, stress from the divorce, and lack or relying on AA for support lead to a period of relapses. I missed too much work and lost my job because of that. Despite a solid month of looking for something in a different field, there was nothing that would compensate me at a rate I needed to survive. So, I wound up at my previous company’s biggest competitor; once again, in a cubicle.

Part of me thinks that I stayed with my ex as long as I did for the opportunity to be a stay-at-home-mom. I hated him, but I also hated working a 9-5. Eventually, I saw that if I was going to survive and do what was best for myself and my son, I had to get away from my ex. So now we are divorced, I am working a job I don’t love but need and can’t complain about, and I’m moving back in with my mother. I suppose I am hoping in the interim, I might find a way to carve out a new career path. If I stay on the course I am currently stuck in, I am certain it will eventually kill me spiritually. That may sound over dramatic, but you don’t know how much I loath the ice box rat maze in which I spend 40 hours a week.

Possibilities

I don’t know what to talk about today. I am feeling a bit ill physically, but mentally I’m doing pretty well. I’m not even grouchy it’s Monday. I have this feeling, since the divorce was finalized, that I have new found freedom to identify my goals in life. Also, because I am working my program, I am finding the courage to pursue them.

But there are so many potential paths to take. It is hard to focus in on one thing. Obviously the most pressing necessities right now are figuring out my finances, selling the condo, and finding a new place to live. However, just focusing on this is anxiety inducing, and there is only so much I can control about it each day.

So I let my thoughts stray to new career paths, perhaps taking a few classes to get certified as a teacher, new books I should read, places I should go, and things I could do to make an impact in my life and in the lives of other’s.

There is so much I want to do. I want to continue learning Japanese and some day visit Japan. I’d love if I could go teach there for a year, but that wouldn’t be possible for quite some time. Perhaps I should teach here? Should I learn to be a yoga instructor? I could write and publish an E-Book. Would my time be best spent doing more service in AA? Then of course there is a part of me that just wants to nap for a solid week. Ha.

I guess ultimately, I’m feeling like a free bird with too many possible destinations. To stay grounded, I’ll have to meditate on things before launching on a new journey. The future looks bright, the present is good, and I’m content as well as optimistic about possibilities for what comes next.

Between Life

As a human being, I still feel like a child some days. I can feel like the insecure teenager I was in high school, or the curious and slightly less insecure college student, or the pretending to be an adult “grown up.” As parent, I feel different and much more educated.

I can still remember my two best friends from HS coming to visit in the hospital after I had my son. Paraphrasing one friend, she said “[dude, can you believe you like, made a person!?]” I just smiled and laughed, but my head wasn’t wrapped around the reality of the situation yet either.

One of the most terrifying moments of my life was coming home from the hospital with that little “nugget,” as my friend would call him. I managed to get him in to the bassinet/rocker thing that he practically lived out of the first two months. My husband went out for something (probably a pack of smokes), and I passed out on the couch rocking the tiny human to sleep. I remember thinking I have no fuckng clue what I’m doing here, as I drifted off. He returned about 20 minutes later, and I don’t know why I remember this, but he said the one kind thing I can remember him saying for years before and  after that. He said, “[y]ou’re a good mom,” and he was sincere. I still didn’t have much experience in keeping that defenseless little thing alive, but I felt a whole lot better. I thought, as long as I do my best for him, everything will work out.

About a week later, I broke down in a sobbing lunacy, because I thought I was never going to sleep again. My son never slept well nor through the night until he was at least a year and a half old. It was during this sleep deprived nightmare that I found out I was an alcoholic, and with the turmoil at home (5 hour fight-a-thons), I’m not sure how I survived those first couple years. Yet here we are, and I feel all the wiser for it.  As a mom, I feel like my real age. In regards to anything else in life, this is usually not the case.

I can remember my heart beating over middle school crushes like it was yesterday. Not so long ago I snuck out every night to hang out with my friends. Only a handful of years ago I was thriving in academic glory in college. I’m certain I just got married recently, but somehow I have a 3 and a half year old and am over a year into divorce. When the hell did all this happen?

Now I’m in this weird in between space. I have a not so new partner, but we are evolving and recovering anew in sobriety. I have a young child who is dealing with grown up situations. I have a stable job that I am ready at any moment to leap from to a more enticing opportunity or more fulfilling career path. I have had a home for six and a half years, filled with both horrible and wonderful memories, that I will soon have to leave. My days with this last name are numbered, and I have so much uncertainty about the future that I’d be terrified if it weren’t for the amazing program known (or not) as AA. It is the one constant in my life that will always be there, and as long as I lean on it, I know I will be ok.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Working Life

No one gets paid to sleep, unfortunately. It seems like that is all I want to do these days. Amid the many stressful circumstances in my life right now, sitting in a cubicle bored to tears all day does not help. I am grateful to have a job, and the benefits are good. Still, I’d be lying if I said I felt stimulated in any way or got a sense of satisfaction from my job. Honestly, I hate it.

I know this job should be enough for me, but it leaves me with hours on top of hours of time to sit here worrying, stressing, and ruminating over all my troubles as I “work” in auto pilot. Medical billing can be challenging and certainly complicated for someone new to it. I, however, have doing this since high school. The work has become mindless.

So I try to think about what I would want to do that would lead to a job I would actually want, and I have no clue. I have a degree in English Literature with which I have done nothing. I thought becoming a personal trainer might be for me, but the same night I passed my certification test, I found out I was pregnant. Personal training has lost some of it’s lure for me. So lately I have been thinking about teaching yoga and/or being integrative health and nutrition coach. Unfortunately again, I am not in any position to pursue this financially, and my “free” time is almost non-existent.

So, I am trapped for now. I have to focus on more immediate concerns like getting through this divorce, finding a new place to live, filing for bankruptcy, and taking care of myself through it all. Hopefully soon, though, I will be able to seek out a new career path that is fulfilling.

Crash and Burn

More than once, I have let all my problems weigh me down so much I have been crushed. I did this again recently. Broke, divorcing, my little one acting out constantly, losing my home, debt ever rising, credit score plunging into the depths of hell, several sleepless nights in a row, and waking from vivid nightmares in cold sweats shivering; it all crushed me. I forget about self-care, there isn’t a drop of optimism in my heart, and I slowly get closer and closer to insanity. The flame of self-destruction ignites when I can’t carry the weight anymore. Exciting at first, it burns until I think I might die. At the breaking point, I surrender; accepting help or death. Time and time again, I feel I might die. Yet I always find a helping hand.

The journey of restoration is slow and painful. I used to picture it as a phoenix rising from the ashes; a beautiful image in my mind. Now, I just feel like a zombie crawling out of the grave yet again. Broken, bruised, worse for wear; slowly picking up pieces of myself try to put it all back together. No beautiful phoenix, I’m just a Frankenstein girl/woman/mother/partner or whatever.

This cycle leaves me more dizzied and drained each time I go through it. Coming to the point of accepting death if it is fate, being pulled back from that state of surrender, it’s just painful. As said in one of my favorite shows, Altered Carbon, “…coming back from the dead is a bitch. Every single time.” Despair to renewal to complacency and back to despair; why can’t I just stay happy, healthy, and at peace? I understand life is not always wonderful, but my dreams fade further in to the blackness. I’m not thriving. I’m only surviving, barely, and I am tired of it.