More stuff to stuff

We had a fairly good weekend, with just our son around mostly, it was pretty good. Nice breakfast at Henry's and you took him to the movies this afternoon, but it felt very unsatisfying to me. I had talked about the bead thing and explained it a couple times, so it seems like if I bring it up, you will make sure it doesn't happen.

I feel like you're still trying to manipulate and control me, and keep being reminded of times in the past when you did. I don't want to view everything in the light of my now clearer understanding of your motives, that everything was directed toward using and getting drugs, but it seems that so much was designed to allow you to go use. And so much was said to throw a smokescreen over your actions. It's so tangled up and confused and ugly.

and if I express any unhappiness or sorrow, I'm all angry and all is hopeless.

I get a feeling of hopelessness after spending time with  you, the sense of life is useless, tiring and futile. I think it's a spirit of despair.  But God has not given us a spirit of fear and despair, but of power and love and of a sound mind. 
You said that I and Marlie and Pastor Thomas think you haven't suffered enough, haven't hit bottom and we want you to suffer more.  That is so far from all of our minds. Thomas is thinking about the ministry in Haiti, Marlie is working on her own addiction and separation from Mark and I'm just wondering if we can ever get back together. And if we should.

  I have found quite a bit of peace living without the constant criticism and drama.  I miss you so much, the you that could be kind and loving. That could be here with me, that could enjoy time together.

But that you has been gone for so long, I don't know if you exist. You seem to exist in a little foxhole that holds you and you peep out of it once in a while.  Then drawn back inside yourself and talk to yourself repeating the words that must go around in your head.  It's pretty creepy. And sad.  you would rather live in a tent than here, and alone than with me, and lose your children than quit using.  and somehow it's all my fault. 

Talk to me

It was good to be able to sit and talk to you today for a few minutes. But pretty disturbing based on what you said. It looks like old times, accusations and blame for something I didn't do 13-17 years ago -- yet you can't talk about your past - no apologies, no amends for the past two years because we're supposed to look forward, not back.

We definitely have a shot at making our marriage work, but I am still waiting for you to stop swinging from one extreme to the other. Now it's about me being a. a control freak b. not submissive c. preoccupied with too many other things and not having time for you.

I know it is all crap but it is like a knife in the stomach. Really.  After waiting for you for 29 3/4 years to stop using you want to talk about what I do wrong, and are angry with me.

Really.  And you won't have anything to do with 12 steps, Christian or otherwise, counseling, a sponsor or work a program. You're good. You've got it.  Hope so!

SO - you got baptized today!

It sent a shock wave through the church this morning when you got up to be baptized. And apologized to me, the pastor and the whole church.  Most people were in tears - even some who have never met you.

It's funny that I have friends you've never met because you haven't been to church with me in about a year.

When you came and sat beside me and asked "Where have you been?" because I'm not sitting in our usual "spot" and you didn't see me, I thought "Where have YOU been?"

It was good. I was happy you were there.

But I'm still on guard that you won't stay - happy for you to be moving forward . . . happy you are doing well and look healthier. 

But our kids are still not willing to see you or have you around . . .. still have a ways to go.

So, you missed an awesome Christmas

It was great. I kept trying to imagine you being with us, an it kept getting harder and harder. LIke a ghost fading away in the morning, I couldn't even conjure up bad memories . . we were making new ones.

You so missed it.

 I did miss you. I had some bad moments, and I think it was awkward and hard for your mom and brother. They avoided me as much as possible. But the kids and I had a really good time, even with the Malaria aka the flu ish stuff. 

I heard you're not doing well.   I'll keep praying that God will get your attention and break through the demons screaming in your head. Maybe one day you'll just turn around and say shut up! to them.

love
  Me

Making Christmas without you

I'm making the Christmas braids, and doing payroll, and blogging. Dropped the motor of the grinder (only to a chair) and then the Bosch walked off the counter and was hanging by the cord, still running!!  Caught it just in time as the cord came unplugged.  Sheesh.

Just can't believe it all. I keep reviewing the craziness of the past year and half, plus, 29 years of insanity, using and lying and stealing and breaking promises.  And where are you?

Rehab #3.

Sparky said you could call today or tonight. So I've planned and discarded several things I'd like to say to you.  I love you.  I m iss you.  What the hell is the matter with you?  Where are you?  No, you can't come home.

I'll think about you on the beach.  It's kind of interesting just missing you and wishing you were here imagining the good parts. But then I always go back to reality and remember you calling me a bitch and trying to get me to kill you.

Merry Christmas.

Are you there?

I called today and talked to Sparky. I asked if he really ever talked to you and he said that you avoided him; that he gathers you don't like him.

Probably sitting there thinking no one cares to talk to you, they never counsel you. I think I am sensing that you are just marking time, to say "I did it, it did no good, there's no program that will help me recover."

Someone was using your phone so I got a call today from the bill collectors. I told them you shut the phones off but they said it was reactivated and the bill is now over $400 but the lines are all cancelled now.  Another bill for you to pay off when you get out of rehab.

I found a Christmas tree for free last night and we put it up with new white balls on it, with the blue ones and Dale's red crocheted garland. White lights - it looks really pretty.  Marlie called me a scrooge because I didn't have a tree up yet. The old one smells like mouse pee.

I have some presents for the kids, they are excited. I hope that they are going to be surprised by something, seems like they know everything they're getting!

I may be able to speak to you on Christmas Eve Sparky said.  I told him you might ought to call your mom.

Of course I would like to have you here and hold you and be a family. But I don't think that's going to happen, maybe never.  I'm sad for you that you have missed out on the last few years of your kids' lives and mine.  We're not sad to not be in your drug world anymore.  It's a whole lot more peaceful and safe now. 

You're just not the person I fell in love with -- not sure if he ever existed except in my mind.

Merry Christmas darling, we're apart that's true.  But I can dream, and in my dreams, I'm Christmasing with you.  The lights on my tree, I wish you could see. I wish it every day.  Logs on the fire, fill me with desire to see you and to say "Merry Christmas . . . darling."

So far away from me

To You,
I talked to your friend today, he said he was thinking about me and wondering if I was ok. He had gotten a letter from you, and said it was the first one that sounded a little bit concerned about anyone but yourself. Maybe starting to get your head clear a bit. Not I want this, send me money and cigars and candy, tell Shelly to do this.

Hopefully he can go visit you. He's sending you a box of stuff, so did I from your mom. She was crying, saying she didn't want you to think that she doesn't love you. She can't write or read or make phone calls well at all, and spent hours trying to get a box of stuff from Harry and David sent but ended up not being able to with the PO Box address I had given her.  So I said I would get stuff that you like that she used to get for you and send it in her name.

It's Christmas carols and getting out decorations and working while trying to fend off the debt collectors and keep everyone going. It's going ok, just a lot of work every day to keep up.  Or keep from getting behind.  I'm pretty happy most times, and sometimes I miss you but it's always with that twist of BUT, he wouldn't be with me anyway, he'd be out using or hiding or giving me the cold shoulder, reading or watching movies or driving around.  So not like you were here anyway for me the past few years.

I really wonder whether the kids will ever be able to forgive you.

It's so cold, I keep turning up the heat because it's just not getting it.  Your friend said it's not the selfish things you begin to miss after several weeks, it's not being able to hug someone or spoon with them on the couch. I miss those things, do you?

Mostly when I dream of you it's a nightmare, I'm caught off guard and afraid you've stolen something and are not supposed to be here.  Subconsciously at least, I'm glad you're gone. 
But I have had some really amazingly strange experiences in my dreams on the other hand. 
I just hope your mom doesn't die before you get your life back together and see her.

Love,
Me

Happy Thanksgiving - No you can't come home

To You,

I was surprised when you called, and it threw me off for a minute, wasn't aware it was you at first then it clicked.
 I had wondered if you would be able to call today somehow.  So it was good to talk to you but it sounded like NOTHING'S CHANGED.

It's like slapping a puppy to have to say no, you can't come home yet. No, I'm not dropping the tpo. No, I'm not ready because you're not ready. 

I'm sorry for you that your children won't speak to you.  We had a nice day, a great dinner, and beautiful weather.  I hope you called your mom, she deserves better.

When I re-read some of this it is just so much sadder . . . every day I wonder how I'll go on without you and if you'll ever come home, and if I can make it, and how awful it would be if you didn't.

Maybe you'll be able to call at Christmas.

Please, please get it.

Love, Me

Sry I forgot

To You,
I know we talked about thinking about each other but can't remember, was it at 9 p.m.? I think I forgot that. Have to put a reminder in my phone. I do feel like you are thinking about me at times, Mondays seem like they have been bad for you, before the day gets cranked up, and sometimes I feel your sadness.

That was always an interesting thing about our relationship, that we can sense each other's thoughts and feelings even at great distance.  Now when I'm having a bad day emotionally, I figure it's coming from you and I'm able to shake it off, because there is nothing I can do about it.  Hope you have a good day.
love,
Me

Memories of you

I was driving tonight and remembered -- I think -- times when I would be able to just walk up to you, slip my arms around you under your jean jacket and be pressed against you. We would just stand there holding each other. I could do that any time . . . I think. It has been so long I'm almost not sure that really happened, or if it's just a daydream. 

If I had never known the rush of being in love with you, seeing you and feeling so happy that you love me, maybe I wouldn't be so sad now.  If I had never married, never fallen in love and been loved, maybe it wouldn't hurt so much. But I think I would still know I was missing out on the real joy of life. 

Not at all sure that this pain will ever end on this side of the dirt.  And you just want me to send money, for cigars, and stamps, nuts, candy, envelopes.  Yeah, we're all fine here.

The Zombie Addict

To You,

Addicts are like zombies. 

They don't know they're dead.  They don't look so good, and they're still stumbling around, but they're dead inside.

They're still looking to steal something so they can score, and use again. And again.

It's hell for them.  And those they love. 

I think hell for addicts is obsessing about how to use, when to use, stealing and working to get the money, setting up the deal, scoring, waiting until they can use and then not being able to get high. And starting over.

My heart breaks every time I think of you.

love, Me.

Rehab, Take 3

It has been only two weeks and two days, but it seems like so much longer. I guess because you have been out of our lives for the past couple years - for the most part.

It seems sad that we don't miss you and are happy that you are in a good place -- happy you're not driving in at any time and demanding this or that.  I know that you don't want to be the way you are.  But you are who you are.  It's a J. B. suit inhabited by a whole bunch of cockroaches, like Men in Black.  Looks like you but isn't really you.

Let me know when the bugs are gone for good.

One more time

to You,

Back in rehab. Day two.  I had a good day for being told my father is dying. At least I got to get that news to you before you went under the cone of silence for the next 3-9 months.
 
I joked about that was long enough to have a baby by the time you got out . .. you did not think it was so funny. It would be a miraculous thing for me to have another baby, but just as miraculous - more so -- would be if you came out sober and sane and ready to have a life.

My dad's life is ending and you are just messing around with yours. The choices for drugs that addicts make are so insane to me but then again I make insane choices too.

It's a good thing I have so much time spent alone and handling everything.  It was wonderful to see you before you went and spend time with you.  Thanks for holding me.

Technically, I don't think I'm supposed to write you. No phones, no nothing.  I think it will get harder. But I'm waiting. It's like you're off to camp.  Drug camp.

And so much change ahead if my dad passes away. Glad for him, he will be with mom finally.
  I hope your mom doesn't pass away before you get to see her again.  well, I missed our 9 p.m. meeting of the minds, hopefully you'll be there in my dreams. And in reality come next July.
Love, Me

Back to silence

So we're back to observing the no contact rule. If I can stop calling you and not go by there, I can maybe clear up what I've done. Maybe not.

Are you really trying to just get out of paying child support? I guess you see it as an imposition and an impossibility. How hard is it to contribute $125 a week to your family? I guess you'd have to actually take a job.

It's easier to just not talk to you right now. I'm suspicious of what your true motives are. I wonder if you really want to be with your family or just get your own way.

Really?

God knows why, but I had an extra large drink and was driving by and thought Ï'll give it to him. And then you turn it into an opportunity to take a picture of me breaking the tpo on your cellphone.

OK, Not sure where you're going with this. To prove I broke the agreement so it should be thrown out? Or to gather evidence for a case against me? To try to get me arrested?

 Well, I am wrong. I should not come bring you something, or call you or ask you in.  I think that you will find a way to wiggle out of paying child support one way or another.

I think you like the drama, or are wanting to use the system to your own ends.  What you say and what you do are still not matching up.

My Secred Blog

It's kind of fun having a secret blog. Of course if it ever becomes not so secret I will not be happy. Supposed to be anonymous.

What's up with hitting return and it goes up to the top of the page?  Just put a new ppc ad on yelp for the main business entry, been getting hits off the other one, doing one free room - maybe that will perk some interested where they actually call me.

I told you about this a year ago, reminded you today. See if you find me.
Tag, you're it.

I kissed a boy and I liked it. . .

Hmm,
Aren't old people supposed to be over it?

But we can't get together because of the tpo. And I'm not about to drop it because then there would be no reason for you to give us any money . . not that you do.

There's just never a job for you . . .  never enough money for me. And no, it's not all about the money.

If I was rich maybe I could just work and let you lay around and look for work. But it's just not the economic times for that.

J and I made up . . . he has been working weird hours at night on mopeds taking drunks home. Thinking about quitting school - I gave him some money for gas. His friends at church took up a collection! Gave him $180 and that made his insurance payment.

But he's 3 car payments behind and needs insurance on it.  Hopefully he'll keep getting work and study and I can give him enough to get him through.  He feels terrible. I don't know how he keeps going.

Sometimes I don't know how I keep going either. I wake up at about 6 and just pray till 8 when I can't stand the pain anymore and get up and start moving.
Getting old sucks.
But I'd still like to suck face with you.

Can't even tempt you to meet me at the grocery store.

You sounded happier

I know I'm not supposed to call you but it's like a craving. You're my drug.  I just want to talk to you every morning when I wake up and when I go for a walk and when I'm alone and when I'm with a bunch of people, and at night and when I'm at church or CR or anywhere else inbetween.

You sounded happy to talk to me and I was just unable to hardly speak.  There is so much I want to say and that I'm writing down because I can't talk to you.  Then when you're on the phone, I say nothing. Or I come across angry or unable to say what I feel.

But it was nice to hear you sound happier. Not sure if it's because I called or something else was just going well with your day.  I asked you just to get your act together and you said you were.


But you're still not taking care of your responsibilities.  I'll have to pay your traffic ticket because my name's on it. I don't think you will. Deadline passed, I sure don't want to go to jail for your ticket.  I'm already there in some ways - a prison of regrets and disappointment and loss. 

It would be so much clearer if you were dead or we were divorced. This is a better scenario, I know, and I have hope that we can be restored and have way better years ahead -- IF.  If you stop using. If you become honest and stop stealing and lying.  Ok, I'm going to choose to be a prisoner of hope . . .

Old love letters

I found some of the letters I wrote to you last year while you were in rehab. Some of them were on target for where I am now. One good thing about writing to you -- even if it's on a blog no one sees -- is that I can see it and if I ever wondered how I was feeling, if I expressed myself clearly to you, whether you got the message -- I can say yes.

I had to stop reading after a while and get to work. This is just so sad.

When I don't miss you

I don't miss you when it's Friday afternoon and you wouldn't be coming home anyway.

When it's Saturday night and you wouldn't be here anyway.

When I do miss you:  on holidays, like this past Labor Day at a friend's pool - you would have loved that.  When we went tubing with our son, you would have loved racing him down the river.  When we walked through the Indian shop, you would have bought him the knife he wanted.

When I go to bed alone, I miss you.

When I wake up alone, I miss you.

When we fight on the phone and you say something nasty like "I'll see you in a year."

In church, when we sit by ourselves, P and I.  When we're on a trip and you're not there.  When I wish I could call you.  When I wish I could see you.  When I wake up in the middle of the night.

When I read something I want to share with you.  When I'm alone in the doctor's office.  When it's time to make biscuits.  When we run out of bread.  When someone's got to be driven home late.  When it's time to clean out the trash.  When the lawn gets knee high.  When the garden is dying because it wasn't watered enough.

So there are some times I don't miss you.  But a lot more when I do.  I know, if I would just drop the TPO and let you come home you would be here.  In body maybe, like you have been for a few months this year. But I'd rather miss you most of the time than have you here using an drinking and lying and ignoring us and wait until you're clear on why you want to be here. And if you really do want to be with me.  All the time.

love,
Me