Coming in Last

Well, as much as I’m tempted, I can’t really glamorize where I’ve been as of late. I am faltering and not feeling strong this week. I am scared of how hard life will be when I’m on my own, a single mother of two children with no college education and no savings. I’m overwhelmed with how much there is to do here in this house and by how much of it is falling on just me. My husband is gone all this week and then home for a few weeks before shipping off to Afghanistan for six months. I will need to have this house in tip top shape and be all moved out by April 1. I’m searching Craig’s list every day but of course unable to view any of the apartments as I am many States away. Where and how everything will fall together is so unclear and all this uncertainty is taking a heavy toll on my mental well-being. I am not able to go to yoga which my body and mind are screaming for, I am binging nearly every night on Cheez-its, chocolate chip cookies, ice cream etc…. I even bought Cool-Whip the other day. I hate Cool-Whip!!! I am not spending quality time with the kids aside from bed time, I am short tempered with them and totally unequipped for this awful angry phase that Everett is going through. I can barely keep myself in check and I have this screaming, hateful 5 1/2 year old stomping around the house all day. I’m desperately unhappy right now. If I just had one person to help me every day, this would feel manageable. Looking around my room right now makes me want to crawl under my covers- there’s so much shit to deal with and add to that five more rooms left to deal with!!! My brain tends to shut down and isn’t inclined towards organization.

My husband and I have fallen into a strange existence together. Upon arriving home I was caught off guard by a great sexual desire that arose in me. Thus when he made the first move I was more than agreeable. We made love twice in one night and let me tell you: that ain’t happened since before I got pregnant the first time. I sincerely wanted to hold him and to be held. We watched movies together and snuggled with arms, legs and fingers entwined. For two days this stuck and then there was some small spat and the bubble was popped. Now I’m back to being disappointed at things he hasn’t done and responsibilities he’s not on top of. The sex drive is back to where ever it’s been all these years. After two months of living in near isolation at my nana’s, being totally broke and grieving the loss of this marriage and friendship, I really needed to be held and he’s been my rock and safe haven for so long; he’s a good lover and knows my body and the way we fit best. I do not think that I would have been able to feel desire if there were not an impending separation. Just driving up to the house took some wind out of my sails because of all the unhappiness, disorganization and stalemate existence that it represents.

Now a little joy is creeping into my heart because I am reminded of the fuller life in NH that awaits my arrival. I will have friends for dinner! I can have birthday parties for the kids! I can call up dozens of people on any given night and say, “Hey want to go see some kick ass blue grass tonight?”

This morning my breath was so awful that I wondered how I could ever have another lover. Am I going to have to wake up at 3am to brush my teeth again so when he rolls over at 7 he’s not bowled out of bed? Do I have to go back to agonizing when I unexpectedly have to take a shit at his house? What about broccoli farts and ass zits? Oh my god. I’m terrified. This is why women stay in unhappy relationships! I am destined to be a pariah in the dating scene…. Eff it. I learned everything I need to know when I was eleven. Wink wink.

**************************Phone call with N *****************************

You can’t hear it but I just let out an audible sigh of release. N gave me a much needed reminder that I am only a human mama and I am doing the best I can under difficult circumstances and it won’t last FOREVER! So what if the kids watch too many movies, so what if I don’t go for a walk everyday, so what if I can’t give everybody my best this month. I have to get through this part and then through the next part and then life will start to resemble something more peaceful with a routine and a rhythm and then I can worry about reaching super mom status. Man was I lost in that self-deprecating sea.

There have been some humorous moments in the past few days that should not go un noted. My cat Zoot, who is going on 10, suffered a most undignified failing of her bodily functions the other night. Whilst snuggling in bed I glanced over to see flecks of diarrhea on the sheet next to my shoulder that had not been there seconds before. My glance immediately zeroed in on Zoot’s bum and confirmed the source. Poor Zoot had sharted and was completely oblivious to the fact. I reached for a tissue to wipe the small amount on her bum before she could sit on my duvet and it wasn’t until I began cleaning her did she catch a waft and investigate. Skip ahead two days and I am on the phone with my father. My nose begins to run and I reach for a tissue that had fallen between the bed and my nightstand. As soon as my snot wetted the tissue the substance already residing there was revived and identified itself as- you guessed it- cat diarrhea. This reminds me of the only segment of the “Jeff Foxworthy Show” worth remembering- ‘Tell me that don’t stank.’

Ok- time to get out of my bathrobe and see what the little heathens have been up to downstairs. Such a huge part of me doesn’t want to know….

Doing the Black Dog Jig

If ever I needed a patron saint of stressed out women with two kids trying to leave the state so she can pack up her house and finalize a separation, but can’t due to multiple snow storms; I do now!!!! I have spent the past few days storing my things away neatly here to please my mom, cleaning up, packing what we’ll bring with us to NC, finalizing travel plans and I’m literally on the road this morning when our accommodation plans fall through. So I turned the car around and here I am at my Nana’s once again. At least it’s clean. But then all the kids toys are packed away and I have no wine!! Ok… I am not going to let the negativity win…. we may have less than two hundred dollars in the bank right now but I can’t sink! I’m trying to change my patterns. My inclination, with depression, is to passively allow myself to go with it, to float slowly down and down, to feel it as completely and thoroughly as possible. It could take hours or days for it to cycle through and while I’m in ‘The Black Dog’s’ clutches I may be lethargic, anxiety ridden, short tempered, self-conscious, or all of the above. I definitely tend to be more creative when I’m full of sorrow. I’m starting to realize that I cannot continue this pattern, that it is very selfish of me to allow myself to descend so easily. I shouldn’t expect my children to adapt to this or to fend for themselves while I’m unable to deal. This is not the history I want written in their future journals or therapy sessions. I know that depression is a part of me and will never cease to be an issue but I can fight it when I feel it coming on! This morning in the car I forced myself to smile instead of cussing out the world and my chest felt less tight almost immediately. I will always feel things deeply and empathetically but I don’t have to own all the sadness in the world. And when it comes to love and attraction, I don’t have to be a moth, distracted from its course by every shiny light. Now that I’m getting ‘freedom’ from my marriage I feel a little giddy, unstable and untrusting of my sensibilities. I need a sexy sequined pair of blinders to keep me on task! I already have exemplified how terrible I am at playing hard to get (J) and am in danger of compromising my inner guide with some one else I haven’t introduced yet. I’ll call him Doc, which is how I addressed him seven years ago when I worked for him. He has been a great comfort to me this past month; he’s made me laugh, taken me to dinner and has been adjusting the kids and I for free which is a tremendous gift. He also is very interested in me romantically which I can’t fully reciprocate. I’ll admit that when we first kissed the night we went to dinner, I was totally living out a fantasy I’d had when I worked for him but passionately, it ended there for me. We recently went to his house for pizza and a movie (he has a son two years older than mine) and when the kids were out of the room he’d rub my back or play with my hair and we kissed a few times. Honestly, it felt nice to sink back into some ones chest, to feel that strength and steadiness. It was a relief! It was a reprieve from the loneliness of my days and the stress of holding it all together for the kids and I. But I have to be so careful not to allow this to go beyond what I want and what I can give. I don’t want to get myself right into another situation where I can’t give a man what he wants! My economy can’t handle another deficit.
The good (?) news is that my sexuality is alive and kicking again. There was some down and dirty blues playing on the radio last night and my thoughts went to J (am I crazy or what?). This was some hair pullin’ hip grindin’ blues and that’s exactly what was going on in my mind. At least I know that my body isn’t dead but does it have to respond to some guy all the way in Northern California who has a girlfriend?! I totally jumped the gun with J by saying in an email that ‘the odds are once again stacked against us’. Which implies that he was even contemplating an ‘us’. We’ve emailed some more but he has yet to respond to that particular one. True to my old form I am incapable of being appropriately disinterested and always put myself in a vulnerable position before I’ve even tested the ground. But as I was saying to my friend N this morning, I have never been good at it, I have zero interest in aspiring to be good at it and if a man can’t or won’t appreciate this quality in me then eff it! (The next time I’m curled under the kitchen table with a bottle of whiskey because I’ve scared off another man will you kindly remind me that I feel this way)
N gently reminded me that perhaps he doesn’t think I’ve jumped the gun at all, he could be processing, or simply not know what to say. Actually the reply he sent to that email was simply a black and white photo of a dead plant intertwined amongst barbed wire with the ocean in the back round. I sent him photos of wire cutters and a watering can. See- I’m changing my patterns! I’m not throwing that Black Dog a bone. Heel Boy!

Leave-taking

I just haven’t been able to write this past week. I am struggling to hold it all together and it feels like I am going to blow or break down but I keep on keeping on. Same old same old in a different house. I had it right the first couple weeks here, I had my little routine and I was writing nearly every day. Then I discovered that I can hop on an internet connection in the neighborhood and that routine was totally disrupted. My correspondence with J has me checking my email every half hour or less and because we’ve been poor and housebound for so long I am desperate again for the social networking of FB. I’m all off track. Over the weekend my son very nearly set himself and the house on fire (only my duvet cover burned) and that experience plummeted me into a dark funk. The next day my mom informed me that a friend of ours was diagnosed with less than two months to live because of a cancer they thought was gone. It had quietly invaded her insides and while she and her husband bought tickets to Puerto Rico, while she was cross-country skiing not two weeks ago, it was working its dark magic on her stomach. By the time she felt the pain it was too late. She and her husband have been my mother’s landlords for twenty-four years now. They live simply in a little house that he built with wood from their beautiful land. There are no electric lines running down the road and they have always used wind and solar to power the house. They’ve known me since I was eight. They found out the terrible news on Friday and she decided that while she was still with her facilities, she wants visitors. The kids and I drove to my mom’s cabin on Sunday afternoon, bundled up and walked up the dirt road. Neither my mother nor I could stop the tears and we walked silently with a comforting arm around each others waists. I thought of all the years and countless times I’d walked this road and how long it had been since I’d done it last. How far and fast we grow from people, even familiar people, when we hit puberty and gain a social life. Suddenly, in a situation like this, you are reminded how much a person means to you and how much you love them. It’s like a distilled experience, a distilled emotion because there is no longer the luxury of time stretching out indefinitely ahead of you in which you may have the opportunity to reminisce and express your love.
As we neared the little red house I prepared myself to follow her lead and I’ll admit it was a little scary waiting at the door, hoping you don’t break down in tears. Her husband opened the door and welcomed us into their warm, sunny home. There is beautiful wood through out the house, his loving craftsmanship in every detail. There is the smell of a homemade soup simmering and not an ounce of doom or gloom in the air. We pile into the sunny sitting room and when she rises to greet us I see how skinny she is, her eyes even bigger behind her glasses, but she is still beautiful in her serene way. The kids dig into the stuffed animals, unaware of any elephants in the room and we settle down with ginger tea and talk of Mongolia, where they had traveled in recent years and then more close friends arrive who have all known me since I was small. The atmosphere remained upbeat as if they were throwing a little mid-winter social instead of hosting friends who where there to say goodbye.
When the kids started to get too high maintenance I knew it was time to go and silently, as if on cue, the other guests quietly left the room when she stood to hug me. “You’re wonderful”, she said as we embraced and we held each other for a long time. I went into the other room to get a letter I had written her and as I reached for my bag I lost my composure and a sob escaped me. There was silence around me and someone lovingly rubbed my back while I took in a deep breath and struggled to compose myself. She was sitting quietly on the couch when I re-entered and I know she must have heard my cry but she showed no outward sign of it.
What I wrote in my letter to her was everything I needed and wanted to say. How much I love her, how she affected me and resides in me. She sent her husband up the driveway yesterday to deliver a card for me via my mother. What she wrote I want to keep private but she ended by saying, “ I love you too and I’m so grateful that we’ve had this opportunity to share what has always been in our hearts.”
I’ve probably lost three pounds of water weight from the tears that won’t stop leaking out and hours of sleep, laying and processing the whole thing. I think of what they lay awake at night discussing; how she wants to live her remaining days, how she wants to die, sorting out the business of death: wills, memorial, etc… I think of her husband who is being so brave and is not thinking about himself, “I’ll worry about myself later, right now this is about her.” he told my mom. They have lived just the two of them, in love, for so many years. They have a small table in their kitchen, just big enough for two.
I think it’s amazing how she is choosing to live her last days and I can’t help but wonder how I would live mine. It certainly encourages me to keep living authentically and to speak what is in my heart because we aren’t always forewarned that time is running out. Really we have so little to lose by speaking or doing what is in our hearts when compared to how much we stand to lose if we don’t.