“Your Baby Doesn’t Want You Anymore.”

It’s over.
It breaks your heart in two.

It’s Over by Roy Orbison

Things have been incredibly difficult for the last two weeks. TH and I have been having difficulties of varying natures for a while now – some say he is at fault and some say that I am – but I always kind of assumed we’d plod on. I thought of our relationship in terms of the turtle who eventually wins the race. It would just continue to take its sweet as time until one day, we both realized that we had lived the rest of our lives together. That’s probably pretty pathetic. Point of fact, it sounds a little like romantic drivel, in a way. I’m not one for romantic flights of fancy anymore. I’ve grown up and grown past that, but I did just kind of always assume that we’d just always be together.

Imagine my surprise when he says that he’s going to move out. “I think we need a time out,” he says to me.

I wasn’t overly surprised by it. As I said, things have been pretty cagey between us for a while. But, I honestly never thought he’d have the gumption to say that to me. I always thought that if, push came to shove, and anyone was actually debating about leaving it would be me. But I have to admit here that I’m a complete idiot about things, too. I’m that asshole who will always forgive, will always forget, and will always take care of the basics. I will be the one to slave and make sure the bills are paid. I will be the one who takes care of the house. And I will be the one to constantly allow more and more irritations to build up until I finally explode.

It really is surprising that he actually took his balls in his hands and finally made a decision.

It looks like I’m a single parent now.

A Year in Review (Better Late Than Never).

I have been debating about this entry for a while. I haven’t really wanted to write over here, actually. I’ve been told that all I do is “complain.” Even though I have a little caveat on the side bar that clearly indicates that is the point in this entire blog, I’ve been keeping myself away even though I’ve been at near-explosive levels of irritation and rage in the last month alone. I’ve also been accused of using this blog to belittle and angst at people. Again, I have to point out that it clearly states on the side bar that if you don’t like what I have to say here then don’t fucking read it. With that, let’s talk about this passed year.

There is no other way to put it: 2012 sucked for me.

For almost the entire year, minus the month of November, I have been unemployed. Most people would assume that being unemployed would be “fun.” I’ve heard people discuss the whole unemployment thing like it was a game. “A bit of time off to get your head in order and then you find a job.” The reality is that unemployment is extremely boring and beyond terrifying. For months on end, you are endlessly hunting for something to replace the last position you had, at a similar pay rate and with similar hours, only to find that there are twenty people in line with you for the same position for the same reasons. And invariably, you don’t get the job and you’re left angry, depressed, and beyond upset at the callousness of your situation.

It may take a while but the “joy” of having some time away from work is quickly replaced with nothing but negative emotions that you have to try to constructively get rid of, otherwise you’re bound for depression town with no way out. Medication is all well and good, but to remove yourself wholly from the depression, you have to get out of the situation causing said depression. How do you do that when 7% to 9% of the entire country is in similar boats? There is, unfortunately, no quick fix for these situations, either. The government keeps going on about how they’re “fixing it,” but the reality is that most of the unemployment numbers are as low as they are because people have lost their benefits and are no longer eligible for any sort of assistance outside of state welfare programs.

I bet if anyone stopped to look at the numbers of welfare programs, state by state, we’d see the reality of the unemployment numbers. I wrote about this in October or so, in which I wrote about my frustration and angst. I was lucky, unlike a lot of people in that situation. A job opened up with the temp agency I had been “working for” since August and I was able to actually take it. For a glorious month, I knew where the money to pay my bills was coming from. But then, the unemployed thing happened all over again, only that time, I wasn’t eligible for state unemployment benefits.

What has made our situation all the more devastating is this fiscal cliff shit that has been going around and around. I watched as the unemployment aid that TH was receiving completely dried up. That’s right; for the last half of December and thus far into January, TH has not had any unemployment benefits either. In all honesty, I think unemployment for construction workers, painters, and other trades should be calibrated differently than other workers but they aren’t. So, we have been literally living entirely off of what is left in my savings account. It got us through Christmas; it got us through no state aid in health insurance, food stamps, or cash assistance. Every now and again, I think ruefully of being denied Head Start funding for my son and wonder, if things had been this dire in August, would we have gotten more help?

Throughout the entirety of 2012, I have felt very much as though a large round mill stone has been around my neck in one form or another. Aside from constantly going to interviews – success; someone wants to talk to me about my qualifications – I have had more rejection E-mails than I can count. All of that has really added up to fray up my confidence. I’m not exactly the most self-confident person in the world, so in either receiving the “thanks, but no thanks” E-mails or no responses at all… it’s added up. I’ve constantly felt as though I am completely inadequate, unable to take care of my family, and just a complete failure in every sense of the word.

What really irritates me about this whole situation is that I have only, ever, applied to jobs that I felt I was qualified for. Occasionally, on a whim, I would fill out for jobs I had no business looking into. Mostly, I’ve been looking in the customer service sector since I know that job backwards and forwards. And for the most part, I’ve been informed that since I don’t have a college education, I can’t possibly get the job. Since customer service really has no business being a college course, I’ve been at a complete low ebb, flowing from anger and irritation to depression and inadequacy.

In early December, I loss a childhood friend who was very dear to me. I’ve written of this friend before. She was “BFTX.” Since she started her path into Christianity, I’ve been waiting for the inevitable fall out that would happen between us. I am distinctly pagan, specifically polytheistic, in my practices. I’ve known that there would come a time when I would lash out or she would. I tried very diligently in giving her advice regarding her “darker moments” and I had tried very hard to maintain a friendship that was slowly falling away into a crumbling heap mess. I won’t get into the specifics, if I ever will. But, the loss of my childhood friend because of a difference in religion really hit me square, center over my heart.

I always thought that our friendship would slog through every possible hook that could be thrown our way. We past through hell, ten times over, together and we managed to come out, not whole, but at least relatively safe on the other side. We stopped talking to one another quite a few times since we started our friendship at eleven, but no matter what, we’ve always managed to pass through the sinkholes and come out all right. In this one, however, I don’t really think that could possibly happen. She’s since blocked me on Facebook after claiming to have apologized for being a bit of a jerk regarding our differences in opinions. Since the words, “I’m sorry I was a dick,” have not reached me, I don’t consider anything she has had to say on the matter properly closed.

I have yet to heal from this loss, in all honesty. It still tweaks at me in ways that I cannot convey. When it comes to soul mates, you just think, Forever and ever, but that’s not always the truth of it. There must be reasons why we are constantly searching for the soul mates. And even sometimes, it doesn’t really matter what the situations are… maybe you find them and maybe you don’t. That doesn’t mean that you’ll be with them forever. Fairy tales have passed out of this world for a reason and reality is a lot of things from happiness to pain. In this particular instance, pain is what I’m learning and what I will, hopefully, one day be able to recover from.

In the mean time.

This past year has been literally awful in so many different ways. I’ve felt, very often, misunderstood, unwelcome, disliked, and unqualified for various reasons. I have felt like a complete failure in religion, friendships, family life, and on a personal level. I have felt as though everything was going to fall down around my shoulders and without my being able to fix it. I think after time goes by and I move further away from this past year, I’ll hopefully be able to look at it more subjectively than I have in this entry. Right now, I simply can’t. There has been too much heartache and too much pain for me to look for all the good things that have happened. Good things have happened in various ways, but the overwhelming feeling of 2012 has been a complete nadir.

As everyone else in my situation has said, or people giving advice to me have said, it can only go up from here.


I’ve had a lot of interesting things going on in my life recently. I pretty much thought I should write them down before I forget or you know, before I start the story in the middle the next time I do an actual blog entry.

  1. Tomorrow, I go to sign my son up for the local poor people preschool. I’m not overwhelmingly thrilled that I have to do this, but we are poor and you know, it’s for poor people. All of my worries and fears about what type of education my son is going to get at an inner city school are seriously solidifying. I’ve put thought into signing him up for other cites’ waiting lists so that he can go to schools not in this fucked up city. I have a feeling TH would blow a gasket if R was accepted into one of those schools, thus meaning that we had to drive him to said school and pick him up from said school. So, I’ve decided to try other outlets to get this shit going.

  2. I am actively seeking out places to move. I’ve been going back and forth on this since we first moved into this place. I’ve always let the fears and stuff hold me back. Now, though, I can’t dick around because I don’t think we’ll be able to afford it or anything. This isn’t about me and this isn’t about TH. This is about getting into a city that isn’t this one that has a decent school system. I’m actually going to be looking at an apartment this afternoon with our son in tow. It’s also only slightly more than what I’m paying for this place. So, we’ll see. (When talking about the apartment hunt with TH last night, he said to me, “Why are you signing him up for a local preschool that will be a half hour or more away if you’re looking into moving to a new city?” And I was like, “Uh, because he has to go to school and I can’t assume we’ll be moving in the next month or two?” Silly boys.)

  3. I did some major issue work in regards to MEH last night. It came upon me suddenly and violently and I was shocked out of my gourd when it happened. I don’t want to go into depth about it here since it is part and parcel with religious goings-on. But, I have no problem posting a link for anyone who doesn’t follow both blogs. Which is probably like two or three of you. Anyway, it was pretty amazing and I think it’s helped to bring me peace in a way that the other stuff I was trying out couldn’t do it. All in all, AMAZING.

  4. My birthday was last Friday and it was fucking awesome. I did nothing all day. I pretty much sat my fat as down on the couch and read my book or watched television. And not children’s programming, either. It was fantastic. I think it’s one of the best damn birthdays I’ve ever had.

  5. I tried out Zumba for the first time last night. I’ve been eyeballing it since the craze hit a while back, but I’ve never gotten into it. I didn’t want to go on my own and I didn’t know anyone who would go with me. Well, TH’s aunt started going to Zumba at a very close-to-me place. She ended up dragging TH’s mom with her one day. And then, TH’s mom told me that I was going. So, last night, I tried it out. It’s very different from the dancing that I’m used to. I kept doing things via the jazz and ballet classes I had taken as a child versus what the instructor was doing. I also felt like a complete idiot because I couldn’t follow her feet and her hand gestures, so I had to get her feet movements down pat before I could do the hand stuff. I felt spastic and retarded, but it was excellently fun. I also sweat so fucking much, I could have just lost weight that way. My knees and hips were hurting me – after years of dancing and damage to those joints, they fucking hurt regularly – but I think I’m going to go back next week. TH says that if I do one class a week for a month couple with low intensity exercises, the pain in my hips and knees should abate sooner as opposed to later. We’ll see.

  6. I have a kind of a story in the back of my head that needs more fleshing out before I start working on it. But, the beginning is pretty interesting.

Things Are Never Easy.

I’m pretty sure things are not going to be as smooth as I’m hoping.

Last Friday, I told the landlord about the bug problem. He was right next door, re-painting the apartment that my quiet neighbor had just vacated. And he immediately got me a phone number for an exterminator. I called the guy that night and we made plans for him to come over today to get the problem gone. However, as I’m talking with another friend of mine who has had this bug issue, she says that the methods the exterminator talked to me about aren’t going to be sufficient. He mentioned something about wrapping our beds in plastic, putting some kind of powder or whatever in those bags, and leaving it for a few hours to kill off the pests. Now, I will admit that I was purposely vague on the phone when talking to him – I’ve got bed bugs; woe, woe – but the problem is gigantic for an apartment this size.

I know they’re in my couches. When we accidentally pulled the siding off of the couch, GUESS WHAT WAS IN THERE. You can just see that they like to congregate in there. I’ve found them in the carpeting in our bedrooms. I’ve found them in the bathroom, in the tub in there, and all other manner of places leading into the bathroom. For fuck’s sake. TH has seen them COME OUT OF THE WOOD WORKING on the little islands that separate the nook where his computer equipment is from the living room. And I’ve seen them do the same thing from the little half wall that separates the dining room from the kitchen. (They’re not in the kitchen.) This place is a shit hole and not just because of the bugs – they half-assed the whole creation of the fucking place, not properly sealing things (thus why I have ants LIVING IN MY COUNTER TOPS), and I am the asshole that pays for the misery.

The guy is coming with a few rocks to fix the hole in the dyke, but he really needs a five-man team and cement.

I’m on the verge of tears. I cannot even convey how many of my things I’ve had to throw away. I’ve had to take down pictures and throw away the frames. I’ve had to take out shelving units with sentimental value and throw them away. I’ve had to freeze my books. I’m so freaking miserable and sad about this whole thing that I want to set fire to everything in my apartment and start all over. Even with the exterminator coming in to “do the job,” I still want to get rid of most of my furniture. I want to get rid of the couches, which weren’t the greatest in the first place anyway. I want to get rid of my bed. Our son is rapidly outgrowing his bed anyway so he needs a new one – and a whole new furniture set, really, since he destroyed EVERYTHING in his room. I want to get rid of the entertainment center and its accoutrement since I don’t plan on setting it up ever again, not with the wooden pieces that go above the shelving units BENEATH MY BED as I type this. I want to get rid of everything and just start dogging it all over again.

I can’t do that.

I can’t start over anywhere.

I just want to cry as I watch everything fall into shambles.


I’m feeling rather unnerved at the moment.

Tonight, I spent the evening with TH over at his mother’s house. His mother owns a second house at the Cape and every June/July, they block it off from renters so that the entire family can spend July 4th down there. TH and I have never gone, not really being beach people but we send TS down with the rest of the family. It gives us a much need rest and relax, as well as time enough to act like idiots for a bit. (It gets it out of our systems, I guess.) So, TH has been spending his time predominantly at his mother’s house and with TS gone, I was pretty excited at the prospect of the house to myself. I could walk around naked (not that I would) and I could dance (which I might) without worrying about being stared at. I can pray, too, without having to explain to either TH and TS about what the fuck I’m doing. So, there’s an awesomely awesome reason, too, but right now… Yeah.

Earlier, after doing a blog entry that took more out of me than I had thought, I went outside for a break. It was that quasi-moment between dusk and full-blown dark. I love TH’s mother’s property for the wildness and yet cultivated feel of it. It’s a whimsical both. I was standing out front when I felt like I was being watched from the “road” that lines the property. (The city was initially going to pave a road down to the lake that TH’s parents’ house is on but never did anything with it besides put a sewer entry down in the back.) I turned but didn’t see anything since the trees were blocking out whatever light may have gotten in there. I chalked it off to feeling overwrought from what the hell I had worked on and left it at that. When I went out later, I felt even weirder. At one point, I FELT like someone was running out of the woods that line the property towards me for nefarious purposes, but when I turned to look… there was no one there.

I shook my head and just decided to ignore it. Nothing’s going on, right?

So, I packed up my stuff and told TH I was heading back to the house. I knew the dogs were probably freaking out and barking at every little thing, that they needed to go out, and wanted to know somebody was home with them. I’ve been pretty much out the door since I got up this morning. I had to get TS ready for the trip to the Cape, meet up with family members to drive him down, and take BFMA out for errands. After all of that, I spent the rest of my time over with TH. So, I started home. The ride was quiet and quick. Honestly? I don’t remember much of it. I felt like I was there and doing the stuff that I should be doing, but I also felt like I wasn’t there either. I had to keep checking my speedometer to make sure I really was going the speed limit – I felt like I was going a lot faster than 40 down the road. When I got home, I was creeped out already, but you know, it was doubled when I didn’t hear the dogs barking when I pulled in.

My car is, uh, not in good shape right now. It makes all manner of noise and is very distinctive. The dogs have associated the sounds with the family coming home. And they bark because they’re excited. I always yell on my way inside, “Jasmine, Sweet Pea! Shut up! We’re home already!” But tonight, there was nothing. Of course, it was late. Maybe they were sleeping, but my dogs are clockwork beings. They do the same shit all the time usually in regards to the same actions. They bark every time we come home and I’m used to it. So, I rushed into the house. I had all manner of horrible thoughts in my head. Sweet Pea was dead because of Jasmine. Someone had broken in and killed my dogs. Sweet Pea somehow managed to get herself into the bathtub and hurt herself this time. (She’s a tiny dog with issues in her back legs because of arthritis but she can still hop into a bin of dog food or, oddly enough, the bath tub.) So, I rushed into the house…

…and both dogs were there to greet me.

I noticed the mess they left me on the floor. I was not smart, apparently, and had left the door open to the bathroom and they had gotten into the trash. I tried to remember if I had closed the bathroom door, but all I could remember was that I was in a rush to get over to TH so I could hop in the poolwe could spend quality time together. I went around the house and looked because it all just felt so weird, so wrong.

I didn’t see anything missing. The lock on the front door is still in place. Both of the bedroom doors were still closed, as I had left them from this mornings first adventures. But I found sand particles on the sink in the bathroom, a ring of water on the counter in the kitchen, some sand particles on the console table the TV is on, and a deck of my Oracle cards has been moved. I feel like someone was in my house, but the doors were locked. The only person who could get into my house is my landlord. The grass has been mowed, so maybe he came by to do that and stopped into my house? But wouldn’t he have to notify me? And I don’t know but it doesn’t feel… like someone I know was in my house. But it definitely feels like someone was here…

Now, I get to spend the rest of the night here, by myself. I hope I end up sleeping tonight.

I’m Not Good at Decision-Making.

One of the things that I’m not overly good at is making big, huge, life-shattering decisions. I dither. I hem and haw. I’m not the kind of person who flies by the seat of her pants, which is funny. I used to be that kind of person, more than I can possibly say. If you ask my mom, that’s how I lived my life up until moving back up north with TH, TS, and starting “over.” However, I’ve learned the lesson often enough for it to actually stick: look to the facts. Unfortunately, my biggest issue with looking to the facts is the fact that I look at so many fucking possibilities that I lose my shit over all of the big, huge possibilities. I end up losing my shit so much that I end up in a crying jag, overly depressed, so depressed that getting up from the couch is a major process, and nothing ends up getting done. Unfortunately, I’m at the point where I have to make a decision and nothing is easy. And honestly, all choices are pretty much shit on top of shit.

One of the things that worried me the most about my ex-landlady selling the property was the possibility of a rent increase. In our area, all of the tenants are paying shit in comparison. I’m not sure about my upstairs neighbors (since I don’t know them, don’t want to know them, and am in the middle of a parking space war presently) but my immediate neighbor next door pays $450/month for her one bedroom… that she’s rarely in. She claims she can’t afford a rent increase and I know that I can’t either. I’m paying $600/month for a “two bedroom.” Note the quotations here. As the [new] landlord commented when he brought me notice that he was going to do a rent increase, we’re really living in a 1.5 bedroom. By legal standards, my son’s room isn’t even a room because there is no closet in that room. So, paying $700 for this place is a huge, hard, big pill to swallow.

It’s not worth that much.

The other issue that comes up and that I’ve refrained from blogging about due to shame is that we suffer from a severe bed bug issue. When I first discovered the black markings on my box spring, I had a hissy fit because I thought mold was growing in my bedroom. When we were living in TH’s parents’ basement, the bedroom we were using was incredibly moist. Mold grew all over everything in that room. I had to throw away pictures that I cherished because of the mold problem. I had to toss out the black leather jacket my mom got me when I was 17/18 because of the mold problem. (Also, it didn’t fit but I was keeping it for “the day I got skinny.” Funny, right?) I started spritzing the bed with one of my organic lemon cleaners because that cleared up the mold issue in the first place. About two months later, I realized that it was worse… and flipped to TH about it. “Honey! The mold is back!” He went into our room and looked things over and said, “That’s not mold.”

We did a lot of research and it was pretty clear, from the get-go, what the problem was. I ignored it. I didn’t think about it. I had about eight crying jags the first month we realized we had bed bugs. I felt guilty. I felt dirty. I felt disgusting. I lurked on a bunch of bed bug related forums, trying to come to terms with what was going on and figuring a way to fix it. I called Terminix, myself, even though I should have called the landlady instead. The reason I didn’t call her is because I honestly felt that she would have evicted us for “bring the infestation.” The thing is that TH and I are pretty sure that one of the upstairs neighbors was responsible for the infestation and after they moved out, the bugs that were still alive slowly but surely came downstairs to where we were. There was a good six month time span where our family was the only family living in the complex. My next door neighbor was pretty much stopping in to get away from helping out her ailing mother about once a week, so we were the only food source for the bugs.

So, we never told the landlady. I have no doubt in my head that the woman would have evicted us, blamed us. And I’m almost positive she wouldn’t have done anything about it, either. And I also can’t help but notice that when the pest control officer who had to do the inspection prior to the selling of the house… He only checked out the basement. When they said that a pest control officer was coming in to look, I was overjoyed. I didn’t have to open my mouth about the problem. But, he only checked the basement, even though the bed bug infestation along the eastern seaboard is along pandemic proportions. (I’m not fucking joking. I’ve been watching the news. There are libraries that are having the issue.) There was a mattress downstairs for months upon months after everyone moved out, leaving my family the only ones in this house. It was still down there up until a few days before the inspection process began. I can’t help but notice that the guy only went in the basement… and the mattress was gone before that.

With the rent increase hanging over our heads, TH is at his breaking point with this. He’s been having severe issues in regards to the bed bug problem anyway. He hardly sleeps. I understand this. I go through phases like this myself until exhaustion overtakes me. I lay awake at night, crying and worried that I’m a horrible, dirty person. I also felt that by opening my mouth to my ex-landlady, I was asking for whatever happened to us. One of the things that I’ve been debating with the new landlord is telling him about the bed bug infestation. He doesn’t seem like an asshole (rent increase or otherwise). And I think he’d do something about it. He wouldn’t be happy, but I think he’d fix the problem instead of blaming us and evicting us. (Illegal though that is, I’ve been reading a lot of horror stories of tenants who are blamed for the infestation and the courts uphold the eviction process. It’s fucked. It’s all fucked.) But with the rent increase, TH is blowing his stack.

When I called him to tell him about it, he instantly shut down. He went into “angry” mode. That was it. I told him that the landlord was offering us a deal. He’d knock between $50 – $75 a month if we mowed the lawn for him and shoveled the walks in the winter time. I think the deal is a good one. Since he’s bought the place, I’ve been on the lookout for a new place, but there aren’t any. In our price range, there is nothing and there is nothing. I used to get huge lists all the time whenever I would look on Craigslist when I was still working last summer. Now? I’m lucky if I get 10 hits in the last month in our price range. So, when I told TH about the deal, he said, “Well, I’m going to have to say ‘no’ to that. He can fix the place up before I start doing shit.” And he just completely shut down. He was intolerant to anything I had to say on the matter. I was getting frustrated so I hung up on him after telling him that when he wanted to discuss it, he could call me.

He ended up coming over and we “talked.” Yes, that’s a euphemism for yelled.

He said that he wasn’t going to pay a red cent extra to this landlord until the bed bug problem was fixed. He also made me feel guilty for never having said anything. I think he forgets that he was the person who cautioned me when I wanted to tell the landlady in the first place! The entire time people were looking at the place, he could have said something. He didn’t. It’s like I’m the adult here so I have to make the decision. But when I did go to make that decision, he told me to be cautious with this because we were liable to be kicked out for no reason whatsoever. And while that’s not a good reason to have to put up with this bullshit for pretty fucking close to a year now (we figured out our issue some time last summer, I believe), it’s something that has stuck with me. So have all of those awful stories from tenants who were treated like they had the plague because they told the landlord what was going on, as they should have. I’m haunted by all the people who have said, “They only came to spray at my place, but there’s an entire complex; couldn’t they come back in?” Or the people who said, “And now I’m looking for a place because I’ve been evicted for something that isn’t my fault.” Haunted. Haunted.

This whole situation sucks.

This whole apartment sucks.

I’m living in a tiny ass apartment, trying to raise my family on an income that doesn’t work. I know what to do – go back to work – but I have to wait until BFMA is back to normal. I keep knowing what my goals are and then watching them get pushed further and further back. I want to rage. I want to cry. I want to make a decision, but I don’t know what is in our best interest.

At this point, I see things as having various possibilities, which I’ll list.

1. We can take the deal and have a roof over our heads, with only about a $25 – $50 increase.
2. We can try to find a new place, though prospects are few and far between.
3. We can stop paying rent and get evicted.
4. We can take the deal, have a roof over our heads, tell him about the bug problem, and see what happens.

TH pointed out to me when we were “talking” about things that there was no way we would be out on the streets if we got kicked out of here. I just kind of looked at him and every moment of living in his parents’ basement rushed over me. I told him that as selfish as it sounded, I couldn’t go back to living there again. I just… no. I was so miserable and angry there. I’m still pretty miserable and angry but I’m more able to handle both of those emotions in a positive and constructive manner than I was when I was living there. I told him that I just couldn’t do that and he just stared at me like I was crazy. It was at that point that he demanded our landlord’s phone number. “I’ll call him and tell him about the fucking bed bugs! He won’t get a damn thing from us extra until it’s taken care of!” I refused this request, which is when he left. I told him that he’s so busy feeling and reacting to the news that he would be a complete asshole to our landlord. I told him that he had to stop and he had to think and he had to act with purpose.

He sat staring off into space for about 10 minutes before he left after I said that.

So, this whole situation sucks such monkey balls. The sweatiest. All I want to do is cry.

There Is Beauty All Around When There’s Love At Home.

A while back, I was pretty upset with TH. I can’t recall a proper timeline, but it was shortly after the new year started. It began with his strong belief that I had forgotten when his great-uncle’s funeral was. As someone who is obsessed with keeping times straight, this was a faulty observance on his behalf. I don’t forget big things like that. I’m very aware of what needs to be done and plan things accordingly. He just neglected to tell me. As someone who tends to drop things on me as an “oh, by the way…” it’s far more probable that he just forgot to say. There was a lot going on that week with various things, so, it’s possible he forgot. What pissed me off was his staunch belief that I had just forgotten. I was furious.

The fury wasn’t directed at him, per se. It was more along the lines of the situation. It was aggravating that I wouldn’t be there for him or the family. It was irritating that I wouldn’t be there to pray to the gods in asking that the deceased’s soul be allowed through the Duat* without knowing the proper prayers and incantations. It was also annoying because it meant I was stuck at home with my stubborn mule of a child. It was just so irritating for all these reasons. And, of course, because TH was still (and probably still is) under the impression that I was some big fucking dunce who had forgotten a big event.

(* Duat is the name of the Underworld in my belief system.)

This argument was dissolved in the usual manner: we stopped talking about it because it only led to our snarking and sniping at each other. This isn’t the best way to settle disputes, of course. I’m sure there are a lot of therapists out there who would just about grind their teeth and close their eyes in horror at hearing this. However, it’s easier this way. Considering the fact that TH and I don’t really have these types of problems most of the time and considering the fact that we’re both fairly mellow with one another, it seems like the best option. As it is, we’re both incredibly stubborn (which explains why TS is one-trillion times more stubborn than the two of us) and I doubt that discussing the problem—even in if rational was possible—would end up with us figuring out the overall problem anyway. It leaves a lot of things ‘unresolved’ I suppose. And again, I suppose that this isn’t healthy. However, how else are two extremely stubborn assholes like us supposed to fix it otherwise?

I’m getting off topic.

Shortly thereafter, I received a bunch of notices in the mail from various bill collectors. And by “shortly thereafter,” I mean the day of the funeral is when they came in. TH was still hanging out with his family when I grabbed the mail. I was totally irate when I saw that he hadn’t paid a single bill in the Photobucket month of December. That was supposed to be the one month* that we were expecting me to be unable to pay the bills. As it was, I had to hock some old jewelry to try to pay my car insurance for that month. I mean, I honestly tried to get down with things and pay for stuff. I put my Tarot services on sale, über cheap, just to try to get enough money together to purchase cleaning supplies for the house. (I’m still eternally grateful for everyone who donated to me that month. I don’t think there is ever a way for me to properly repay any of those lovely people.) So, to learn that TH had frittered away his money meant that I just about wanted to go postal on his ass.

(* We were both assuming that the unemployment appeal would be found in my favor and that I would be given a huge stock pile o’ money any day. Those were both true events, but at the time, it was pretty touch and go. I had already begun to worry by mid-December that I would have to go out and prostitute myself, or something, to get money back into the house.)

During these two separate anger-filled times, I was discussing all of these issues with Online Friend (OF) that I’ve been talking about in recent posts. She was incredibly sympathetic to my plight, as well as BFMA. They both agreed that I deserved better. And while that’s always a very nice thing to say (not) when a person is having difficult trials with their significant other, the sentiment behind it was much appreciated by me. What wasn’t so much appreciated was the fact that they both informed me that I should break up with TH, immediately, and get on with my life.

Now, the argument that I most understood in this was from BFMA. She’s been watching my relationship with TH for as long as it’s existed. She was there when we first met. Hell, it was because of her that I met TH to begin with, so it’s incredibly possible to say that if it wasn’t for her, then there wouldn’t be a relationship to be angry about. Since she’s been around the longest, she’s watched as I’ve gone back and forth on my relationship with TH. I’ve had a lot of bad moments (and I’m pretty sure that so has TH) where things seem too overwhelming for me. In most situations, this is usually in regards to money or in regards to TH’s at-home demeanor. To me, he tends to think of me as a house elf that will make sure Photobucket everything is done. When he was out of work for nearly half the year last year, it really burned my biscuits when I would come home from a twelve-hour (or more) day and be expected to cook and clean. I had a house-husband, so why the fuck should I bother? In reality, most (if not all) of our arguments are almost solely based on either money or cleaning. And that’s pretty much it.

So, it was BFMA who reminded me that we had been having issues like these before. She reminded me that I had talked with him quite a few times about how he had to change his outlook in either the area of cleaning (if that was the problem of the moment) or in the arena of money (if that was the problem of the moment). “He changes just enough so that you think he’s making progress and then, he reverts right back within a month or three.” And I thought back to this and thought, You know, she’s right! He does do that, doesn’t he? It was pointed out to me that I never let him grow up and take responsibility for anything. I was the one who had put the bills in my name and made sure they got paid, only telling TH when to give me money and how much. I was the one who would make lists of “do dishes, do laundry, etc.” to make sure that shit got done when I was too busy to do so. I felt that BFMA had a very valid point: I had never let TH grow up.

The bandwagon had been started. OF was entirely on board with what BFMA was saying. There were numerous conversations between the three of us, via G-chat, that ended up with us all discussing about how much my relationship was teh-suck and needed to be ended, forthwith. I wasn’t too thrilled with this prospect for various reasons.

There’s the fact that TH and I have been together for a long time. It felt that I would be doing him a complete disservice to not give him a chance to change, or to give him and I other options to make manifest the sweeping changes that we were supposed to desire and need. There’s the fact that even though TH is an incredibly lazy and selfish brat a lot of the time, he is a very good father. I don’t approve of all of his methods, but he and TS are very close. (Obviously, he can never take the place of Mommy since I am just about the most awesome thing that TS has ever come into contact with, but… Hee, hee.) They bond and play in ways that I just couldn’t possibly do with him. It seemed like I was being a complete asshole in taking TS’s father away because I hadn’t given him options or chances again. Then there was the practical side to the whole mess: I’m fucking unemployed. How the hell am I supposed to live on my pittance without TH’s aid? It would be a long while before child support rolled around for reasons I’m not getting into (never mind the fact that the court system takes for-fucking-ever). BFMA offered to move in and help me out, but this didn’t seem right. It seemed like I was jettisoning one not-so-great partner for someone else, even though it’s, you know, BFMA. And then there’s the main reason: I love TH. I really and honestly do.

But, when I pointed this out to both OF and BFMA, I was informed that I’m “in love with TH’s potential to grow” but not actually in love with him. This led to discussions about how I probably wasn’t attracted to TH and that’s why we never have sex. This led to more discussions about things that I wasn’t (A) comfortable talking about with anyone (even if one of those people just so happened to be a bestie) and (B) made me vastly upset on a scale that I don’t think I’ve ever actually been at before. I was so depressed and upset by the discussions the three of us were having that I pretty much just reverted into myself. It was around this time that I stopped really wanting to do much of anything, either online or in real life.

It felt to me that both BFMA and OF were using tactics to get what they wanted from me. I’m not sure if that’s really the case, but that’s how it felt to me. They were telling me to do something big and huge that I wasn’t very certain about. I stopped putting myself into situations where the three of us would talk about it. In effect, I stopped going online or I would be online in small doses so that they couldn’t catch me in chat. I was so depressed at the prospect of losing TH and of breaking up my family that I just hated to do anything that would bring the conversation up again.

What really made me feel the worst was a moment when I felt like OF was orchestrating events to get things to work out the way she wanted.

The first bit was one of the last conversations between BFMA, OF, and I via G-chat. I was already feeling low and depressed, but I couldn’t get out of the conversation the three of us were having. Without my knowing it, BFMA and OF were discussing via a separate chat window about something or other. Finally, OF said that BFMA had something big and important to tell me, but she was busy having a panic attack over whatever the hell it was. I was worried for any manner of reasoning because there’s no telling what could be going on in BFMA’s head. She’s bi-polar and there’s lot of reasons for her to be having panic attacks, both in her head and in reality. I was wondering if I should go over there to make sure that she was okay when OF said that TH had been hitting on BFMA in various ways, especially during our no-sex phases. I pretty much just stopped at that moment.

Now, I’ve given this a lot of thought. And by “a lot of thought,” I mean that I’ve obsessed over it a lot. I’ve looked at it from a rational stand-point, as well as a paranoid stand-point. In all cases, I can’t help but wonder if it’s true. I don’t see why BFMA would lie about it, though, because she’s supposed to be my best friend. Why would a best friend lie about something of this caliber? And I’ve come to think that maybe she hasn’t lied about it, per se, but it’s her perception of things said. I’m not saying that she’s a liar or that she’s said this to hurt me or that it didn’t happen, but that I’m not entirely positive that what she said to have happened is the reality of the situation. The examples that OF listed off as his having said seem unlikely, though I’m not ruling it out. It’s possible that I’m just blinded by past paranoia. And it’s actually that past paranoia that I keep coming up against, like a brick wall.

When BFMA and I first started really hanging out with TH, he admitted to me that he was attracted to BFMA. She’s an attractive woman so that stands to reason. That admission, however, brought about unresolved issues with BFTX and made Photobucket it more apparent that those issues were affecting me in my relationship with BFMA. (What are those issues? I actually have a post started about said issues, so I’m not going to get into it. Suffice it to say that I have extreme jealousy issues with both best friends, compounded by an inferiority complex in relation to them both.) Those issues have always been there between BFMA and I but I never gave them much credence as I’ve done with BFTX. They were personal and something unresolved that I felt didn’t bring much bearing or merit to the friendships in question. So, it was really just a matter of, “Oh, hey. You feel this way. That’s interesting, huh?” And that was that.

Anyway… rambling again.

The reason I keep hitting this paranoia is that it’s ruined relationships for me before, without the addition of someone saying something like, “Oh. Your guy has so been hitting on your best friend behind your back.” That’s just icing on the fucked up cake, in all honesty. However, I’ve made it clear to BFMA that I had issues way back in the day between her and TH. They were my issues and they weren’t going to affect things negatively, but they were around. In the paranoia-verse, I can’t help but think that OF learned about this from one of her conversations with BFMA and began orchestrating things without BFMA realizing it. If she’s reading this, then she’s just shaking her head with tears in her eyes that I don’t believe her. However, it’s actually really easy to use and take advantage of BFMA without her realizing it. She’s incredibly gullible. I don’t know if this is because she has a big heart and is always looking for the best in people or just because it’s the image she was created in. All I do know is that she’s admitted as much time and time again.

Isn’t it possible that OF heard something that she felt she could manipulate to get me to see her point-of-view?

And I HATE that this was even able to get into my head. I HATE that I felt this way at any point. OF was supposed to be my friend and she was supposed to care about me. But the fact that I could possibly think this says something in and of itself, now doesn’t it? You don’t suspect wrong-doing of someone unless you feel that there is a basis for said wrong-doing. It wasn’t until after TSO cheated on me the first time that I began to pay credence to the rumors that he fucked around behind my back all the time. I don’t know how or why I thought OF could be this manipulative, but it was the first thoughts that came to mind after the conversation where I was informed that TH had been “creeping” on BFMA behind my back.

The last straw, I think, was OF trying to get me to break up with him via religious reasons.

Let me just say this first. I don’t get into my spiritual or religious background on this blog for a reason. I think this is actually the first post that I’ve even made reference to it. The reason I keep my religious life separate from this blog is because I know I have a few people who wouldn’t understand or don’t want to understand it. BFTX is Christian, after all, and I know that she reads this journal now and again. With that being said, it’s out of respect for her (more so than anyone or anything else, honestly) that I keep my spiritual practices in quiet mode via this blog. Not to mention, I do have a blog that’s entirely focused on said spiritual and religious practices. It seems silly to co-mingle. So, there’s that.

However, the last straw (as I said) was when OF tried to explain to me that TH is very negative towards my belief system and that he is not very supportive. “You deserve someone who will support you in your religious practices,” I believe is what she said. She raises a valid point. A lot of relationships have high contentions when it comes to differing religious practices. When I was with MEH, it just about broke us up when I explained to him that I wanted to explore a pagan religious practice. Since he was “devoutly” (said loosely, since as I’ve explained he was trying very much to bring Taoism into his practice) Christian, what I was doing was tantamount to witchcraft and idolatry, both of which meant that I was cavorting with the devil… or something. As I’ve said, on numerous occasions he would have a full-blown hissy fit when I would pull out my Tarot cards and he hid them on me/threw them out on me on quite a few occasions before I laid the smack down about that.

TH, however, is far more tolerant than that when it comes to Photobucket my religious practices. He doesn’t snicker when I talk about gods. He doesn’t roll his eyes when I pull out my Tarot cards. He doesn’t take part in anything that I do, but he doesn’t make me feel like I’m two-inches tall because I have a belief system that he doesn’t understand/adhere to. I think that’s pretty big, all things considered, since I know that most people with significant others that don’t practice the same religion have a lot of issues when it comes to religious belief, practices, and backgrounds. The thing that OF was pointing out as TH not being supportive is that he considers himself a “devil’s advocate” and will do what he can to elicit disbelief in others’ viewpoints just based on the merit that no one knows who is or isn’t right. I actually find this an admirable trait since most people can’t possibly see things so widely that they can take the view of a dedicated Christian to try to see how strong your beliefs are, before taking the viewpoint of a dedicated pagan and doing likewise with a Christian.

Call me crazy, I suppose.

I didn’t want to hear it anymore at this point. I just was finished with the whole thing, but it’s like I couldn’t bring myself to say, “SHUT THE FUCK UP.” I wanted to wash my hands of it. However, I’m not sure if this is OF by nature, but she does tend to push when she thinks she’s right. This is a trait that I tend to have, although, I have learned when to pull myself back and when to shut up [mostly]. Instead of pulling away and just leaving the situation to work out as it is, she pushes and pushes.

In fact, OF pushed so hard as to tell me that my spirits were telling her that I needed to break up with him because of his disrespect. This, I felt, was an abuse of power. It seemed petty and cruel that she would bring up my religious practice in the first place, but that she would continue with it made it that much worse. The true and final point to all of this was when she told me that if I wanted the pagan lifestyle that I had admitted to her that I wanted, then I would have to jettison TH because he would always hold me back. I was told that not only would I never be able to achieve the status I want in my pagan life, but that I had to choose between a magical life or a mundane one: the two, she assured, me were not mutually exclusive*. She also was quick to assure me that I would find a man in my life who did support me magically shortly after I broke up with TH. This is when I stopped allowing the conversations to happen.

(* I have to stop and say something about this. It’ll be brief because I feel that this is a conversation better left to my religious blog, but I have to say that if the two are not mutually exclusive, I know a great many pagans who are putting up a good showing of it.)

I’ve been giving a lot of thought to the last bit of her “assurances” the most. I don’t doubt that she sees the future, but I do doubt the validity of the statement she made. The thing is that I believe that when it comes to Tarot and visions and candle readings and what have you, we’re only given the perception of a specific version of the future. The reason we are able to see said vision is because we are being given the opportunity to change said vision. It is within anyone and everyone’s power to change things. However, it is also possible to predict said futures were a personal spin put into place. (This, above all else, is why I do not like to know what questions my customers are asking when they want a Tarot reading or why I want as few details as possible.) So, if someone were to see me breaking up with TH and then some faceless man coming into my life who would support me in my religious practices, then they could interpret it as simply that. However, my thoughts were, isn’t it possible that it isn’t us breaking up but that I finally talk to him, realistically and honestly, about what I want from my religion that makes him become supportive of it?

This was an underlying current in the “blow up” that happened between OF and I. It wasn’t the main catalyst, but it was a major portion to why I felt severing ties was best done as opposed to trying to keep things afloat. I felt that it was possible that she was manipulating me, my life, and my future for whatever reason. To think so negatively of a person means, to me, that it’s best to go separate ways. I also know that no matter how many times I would (in future) try to advise her to either stay out of my relationship with TH or in my attempts to advise her to keep her spoons to herself would only end in future blow ups between us. And of course, I can’t help but feel that she was doing all of this for some reason that I can’t possible see. All I know is that I can’t attach myself to someone who I see so badly and that it isn’t fair to anyone in my family to do so.

So, as can plainly be seen, I am still with TH. And I don’t talk to OF anymore. It’s still rather up in the air as to whether my relationship with BFMA is fine or not. At this point, considering everything that I’ve listed here… I think I made the right choice(s).

I miss BFMA but I think it’s best if we take a long break and Photobucket come back to things later on. This leaves me very vulnerable and very lonely because she was literally my only friend in this area. I have acquaintances that I text or speak to, but she was the only one who could get me out of the house and away from TH/TS for any length of time. She also had a knack for making me laugh. And there’s always the possibility of Turkey Hill Birthday Cake ice cream coupled with Tostitos; dumb romance movies that need to be made fun of; a thousand personal jokes… But there are other issues in our fractured relationship than just a choosing of sides in a blow up between two friends, jealousy/inferiority, and a mash of other things. One day, I’ll talk about it. But not today.