Tilt-o-Whirl

Life is always such a carnival ride that I often find myself dizzied by the changes that happen weekly, daily, and sometimes hourly.

Almost two weeks ago, I found myself staring at the reality of going to trial to resolve this divorce. Although not much has changed on that front(the allocation agreement has finally been signed since starting this post), my lawyer has advised that there is a chance to avoid it. Neither I nor my soon to be ex-husband can afford the cost of a trial, and the lawyers are scrambling to get things resolved. Well, at least it seems that way.

So, I had my freak out moment when I was notified of the trial. Today I’m super sick, but calm. Thursday I’ll be on edge all day, because he gets to go into the condo for the first time in over a year and “survey” what he thinks is his. We already made a detailed list and told him it is all in the storage unit in the basement, but certainly I’m trying to take his clothes, figurines, and telescope for my own…

In his eyes, when we fought, everything was his. If he bought me a shirt at a concert, it was his. He wanted “his” ring back many times during fights which I would then offer, but he would quickly change his mind. He already took his bed and “his” couch that he got for free from his former boss. We traded it for a free couch that we got from my mom. Honestly, this whole thing is stupid.

I have clothes, a guitar (well…two), a computer, some jewelry, some books and pictures and that’s about it. I know what I own and what is his. I know what we acquired during our marriage, and I’m more than happy to give 50% or more of it to get rid of him. Take the black plates and red mugs. Take the old stained shower curtain and why not the curtain rod? Take the grill you never took the time to go buy a cover for or clean. Take the old coffee table, the lamps, the toaster, the dull knives and the table your son and I eat off of every day. Take it all. I just want this to be over with already.

I know my ex won’t be completely out of my life, but the day will come when I can change my name back to what it was and file for bankruptcy to get a fresh start. A second chance at life is waiting; one that looks like it will be full of happiness and learned lessons. I have grown up more in the past two years than I have in my entire lifetime. I have an amazing person in my life I can actually call my partner, an amazing son, and friends and family that care about me. As dark as things are right now, the future looks so bright. So lets get on with this already. I am more than ready to move on to the next chapter.

Running on Empty

On days like today, I have no idea how I keep going. I was up at 4am,  because my little one had an accident and wet the bed. Fell back asleep for an hour, woke up, made coffee, made lunch, got the little one up, fed, dressed, then myself, ran out the door (late again), dropped him off at daycare, sped to work, 9 hours working in subarctic temperatures (something is broke in the heating system,) ran to the grocery store for TP and cat food on my lunch break in the rain, took 10 minutes to check out because “self” checkout is more like wait while attendants bounce around to all the machines until they finally help you (by this point I imagine flames blazing in my eyes), back to work through the hail, late, back to the arctic for four more hours… Then I will pick up my little guy, go to the gym (because it is the one “selfish” thing I get to do for myself), find a quick dinner, go to a meeting, go home, put little one to bed, which is a marathon effort of bath time, brushing teeth, getting him to go potty, reading a story, and making sure he has everything he needs to go to sleep. Then I will go wash the dishes, take a quick & quiet shower, and collapse in to bed. Tomorrow, repeat.

Just writing that out makes me feel even more exhausted. I’m sitting here, drinking expired Kombucha, because it was $1.50 off (quality and freshness guaranteed!) I’m worn the hell out and broke. I don’t want to vent/complain to my partner. He is going through some heavy stuff and I’m being as supportive as possible. Still, I feel like I’m going to snap at any moment and just lose my shit. I have no idea what the hell keeps me going.

Perhaps it is unbridled rage at my soon to be ex-husband, who doesn’t have a single responsibility in the world besides going to work. The abusive man-child who still gets kicks making my life a living hell has dragged out this divorce for a year now. The judge has ordered a trial since it is taking so long. He spends part of one day every other week or so with his son, and then pretends like I’m keeping him away from our son. Ask any time Mother F^cker!! I always say yes. Stop playing the victim and take some responsibility for your own life…

Anyway… I’m done venting. I can’t spend anymore energy dwelling in my misery and anger. Time for a chill pill;

…zombie shuffle until bed.

P.S. I do realize that there billions of people in the world living far harder lives than I am. This is just my reaction to my circumstances given the society I was raised in and still struggle to reside.

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.

Purpose

I hate feeling like I have nothing of value to say. I can vent about the nasty divorce I am going through or complain about how mind numbingly bored I am every day at work, but what is that really good for?

I suppose writing here is a healthy outlet for the many frustrations in my life; a safe space to just get it ALL out. As a reader, though, what good does this do for you? Is it for sympathy, empathy, comfort in knowing you aren’t alone; maybe. Although I am going through some very engaging life challenges at the moment, it is never my goal to be some base form of morose entertainment.

 I have always had this fundamental presumption that any content that I write should serve some real purpose. So I ask, what can I do for you and in return for myself through writing? My experience can serve as a cautionary tale. My growth can serve as a guide for someone else. My failures can highlight some of the many pitfalls to watch out for in life. But is this enough? I don’t feel like it is.

Feeling like I have no control over my life during this divorce and having no real passion for what I do 40 hours a week; I am left with a giant hole to fill. I try to take care of myself and my son. We eat healthy, exercise, and usually get enough sleep. I see a counselor and a psychiatrist to keep myself mentally healthy. Still, there is this gaping hole in my life. It is a painful darkness that leaves me agitated, lost, and hopeless.

If AA taught me anything, it was that this hole is best filled with “God.” I am not religious, but the concept of spirituality in a very basic sense is intriguing to me. Finding a sense of self and purpose in a realm of pure energy and good intention sounds great. But how the hell do you do that?

AA lesson # 2, helping others helps you. So, I want to volunteer and help other people or animals or the environment, but when do I have time for that? I’m up at 6:30 am with my always way too energetic three-year-old, breakfast, get dressed, drop him off at daycare, and then get to work. I get to squirm for 8 hours of boredom. By the time 5 pm comes around, I’m exhausted and just want to curl up in bed. Instead, I drive in traffic, pick up the little man, go home, figure out dinner, bath time, maybe a few minutes to mess around on my guitar, then bed time for the kiddo. He’s out by 8 pm, and I’m lucky if I make it to 9 pm before I call it a night.

Lack of time, lack of energy, lack of money, lack of purpose; no wonder I’m having a hard time finding joy, spirituality, and satisfaction in my life. I’d love to get out of the office setting. I’m considering instructing Yoga classes, but certification is costly and time consuming. I got certified as a personal trainer about 4 years ago, but found out I was pregnant the same night. Since then I have lost interest in that path. Nutrition and wellness coaches are becoming popular career paths, but again, it is time consuming and costly to get certified. So, I’m left theoretically pulling out my hair.

Perhaps, I need a life coach. Or maybe I just need to stop thinking about myself so much and start giving the little free time I do have to others. The only thing I do know for certain is that I am need of a complete life redirect. So, one way or another, I have to find a way to make it happen.

Cubicle Prison

Sometimes, I feel very disconnected from the world. I’m like an actor in a play who never got the script and has no clue what lines to say. Quick to smile and even quicker to walk away; I’m not one for prolonged contact with strangers. I have to wonder if I was always like this.

To an extent, I think I can say I’ve never been much of a people person, but that hasn’t exactly kept me down. I aced my honors speech course. I was a student aid for my professor in college helping freshman with literary analysis.  I’m not one to wait a stupidly long time for the waiter to come back to tell them something is messed up with my order. I don’t avoid interactions in which I need to do or say something, but other than that, I couldn’t care less about basic human interaction. Give me a book, a bottle, or scalding hot bath, and I am completely content to not deal with anyone.

What the hell does that say about me? It’s not that I implicitly don’t care about other people. I do deeply care about most people. But in my daily life; the boring monotonous drudgery that is working in a cubicle for 8 hours a day in a state where going outside in the winter months can literally hurt you… I could not care less about the people around me.

“Stay warm!” “The day is almost over.” “It sure is cold out today.” “Boy, he is getting so big! How old is he now?” “It’s almost the weekend!” “How are you?” “Fine.” “Good.” “Did you have a good weekend?” “How was your vacation?” “Oh my gosh you looks so good! How far along are you?” “Good morning!” “Good night.” “See you tomorrow.” “Drive Safe.” And my new personal favorite… “Happy Friday-Eve!” All of this, I am happy to live without. I smile, I nod, exchange pleasantries, pretend to care, but really, if I disappeared to Alaska tomorrow, I would feel no sorrow. I would not miss this congenial pergatory.

I do understand that there are many other jobs out there that are perhaps worse than mine. Physically demanding and/or dangerous jobs, far more monotonous, thankless jobs, or no job at all could all have any person worse off than I. I’m not asking for pity. I am simply stating that this kind of job, for me, slowly kills my soul day by day. If I do anything else right in my life, it will be to get the hell out of this industry and find a job I actually give a damn about.

To The Future

I have an amazingly smart little boy. Yes, I know most parents say this.  I got to spend the majority of the first two years of his life home with him. Now that I am working and he goes to daycare, he surprises me with new abilities every day. We are having conversations. He can understand logic. His memory is sometimes scary, as is his ability to figure out technology. Potty training is almost conquered, and he is able to do a lot independently. He has friends that give him hugs goodbye when I pick him up from daycare. He is turning into this little person, and it is all happening so fast.

He is growing up, while I am tearing down. I am trying to get through this divorce and start life anew. I want to wipe the slate clean and start fresh. I am going to have to file for bankruptcy and possibly find someplace new to live; a prospect that is not nearly as scary as it once was. I want to do a couple things dramatically different this time around. I want to find a job I don’t hate, or at least one that is remote. I want to get rid of my car and use the money I save to start investing. I want to live each day as happily as possible. I am tired of the mind numbing, soul crushing monotony of working a 9-5. Endless days spent daydreaming about the weekend, and saying “One day…” No more of that nonsense.

I have learned to live with very little. Granted, my definition of “very little” as an American is very different from most of the world, but as a lower middle class single parent in the Midwest, I do not need much to survive. I want to find a way of living in which that allows me to thrive and create a different future for my son. Really, isn’t that all anyone wants? Perhaps not. But for me, these are my goals.