Come on Zombies!

 

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I love binge watching The Walking Dead. When it first came out I had no interest. Zombies? No thank you. There is enough ugliness in the world already. Finally my curiosity got the best of me. I binge watched (thank you Netflix..)most of the first season with one eye closed and the mute button on…but I was hooked.

I found myself fantasizing about the Zombie Apocalypse for god sakes. It’s my second favorite (after winning the lottery) trying to fall asleep fantasy. I know this seems incredibly bizarre. Yes..apparently imagining flesh eating zombies at bedtime can be relaxing and relieve anxiety! And let me tell you why….

The things I worry most about-that cause me the most pain-these things are irrelevant in the Zombie Apocalypse. Irrelevant I say!! Imagine that. Money…don’t need it. Visitation schedule…no worries. My boss…my weight…my retirement plan. My credit card statement…child support…changing the oil in the car. Doesn’t even matter.  Dating..dentist appointments…poof. Gone. The guilt I wrestle with every day- vanished. All things of the past. There is no time for what ifs during the end of the world as we know it. Life in the Zombie Apocalypse is the here and now!!! No time for wondering about what you did wrong. You only need to worry about the important stuff now. Food, water, zombie killing. It sounds like a vacation! You and your people surviving. No thinking about the past and planning for the future. We are all back to the basics of existing. There is something very freeing about this line of thought! And by gauging how popular The Walking Dead is I don’t think I’m the only one.

I guess we are all looking for a fresh start.. In whatever form it comes. (And obviously..the X and the home wrecker are definitely zombies.)

I hope I look good in combat boots..

Is Divorce a Sin?

 

 

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God Hates Divorce? Really? Join the club.

So here’s what happened. I’m was driving down one of the busiest streets in my small town with my daughter. It was a sunny day and we were both in a happy mood. I had on my cutest sunglasses. We were enjoying being together and not thinking about any of our negatives. We had the music up loud and were singing along. We were positive! We innocently pull up to wait at a red light. And what do we see? Some assholes with large white signs and apparently lots of time to kill.

GOD HATES DIVORCE! DIVORCE IS SIN! SINNERS WILL BE WELCOMED IN HELL!

Really people? With everything going on in the world..divorce is your issue? Have you people even watched Fox News lately? I live in a pretty small town. Not a lot of picketers or protesters. We’ve never had a riot. (Besides a couple of issues on Black Friday at Wal-Mart. Learned my lesson there..) Their presence- these evangelistic picketers- was noteworthy. To say they stood out would be an understatement.  I watched my daughters face as she read the signs and there meaning registered. Her cheeks got red. She was upset. It’s like a dark cloud rolled in. She glanced at me anxiously while she tried to gauge my reaction.

And I was trying hard to have the most nonchalant reaction possible. But it wasn’t working. I shrugged. But I know myself well enough to know that my cheeks were red. I was angry. And embarrassed. And sad. I tried to be reassuring..but the truth was that those signs exposed another bit of self doubt I carry around deep down. Is divorce a sin? Am I really going to burn in hell?

I believe in God. I was brought up in the Episcopal church-but we didn’t go every Sunday. I joined the Methodist church when I married my X. I’m not any expert on religion. My faith is a mixture of churches and experiences I’ve had throughout my life. I’ve never read the entire bible. (Unless you count the Children’s bible I used to read my kids at bedtime.) I have a very dear friend who helped me tons during my divorce. And she has a very strong faith. She was/is my go to person on religious stuff. I remember asking her if divorce is a sin. And she searched to come up with an answer. I mean I hear people say that it is. Why would mine be any different? She tried hard to reassure me. But she was at a loss for words. She even wrote out bible verses for me to read to make me feel better. But the truth is I still feel like something as bad as divorce has a good chance of ranking under the sin category.

But to the assholes standing on corners with picket signs about divorce. Go home. Stop judging. Stop scaring little girls. Worry about your own Sin.

I’ve got the worrying about mine covered..

(PS.. When I think about pulling up to that stoplight now…I regret one thing. I should have taught my daughter how to wave with her middle finger. If I’m already going to hell…I might as well go with high heels and attitude.🖕🏻👠).

 

 

 

 

 

I love Hoarders..

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Omg…Hoarders is on. I love Hoarders. It brings back memories.. Its a wretched show…a train wreck of human tragedy. It could be one of the most depressing shows in existence. So it was the perfect show for me to binge watch repeatedly when my husband left me. Makes perfect since right? The show was practically made for the emotionally fragile woman going through an unwanted divorce. I mean I don’t really know who else is watching it..

I remember watching episode after episode. A woman who keeps bags of her own feces? Seems reasonable. A lady who buried herself under purses and moldy teddy bears. It could happen. Filling the empty pit of grief in your stomach by saving every newspaper you ever laid eyes on- it could help…who am I to judge. No running water because your house is so packed with junk you can’t fit an entire plumber in the kitchen to fix a pipe-that’s why God made rain. Haven’t seen the floor in your home for 7 years-seems legitimate. Have 72 cats, 1 dog and a parakeet- who doesn’t dream of this? These are my people. We are one..united in pain and sorrow and delusional thinking. They know my grief…they feel my rejection…they are showing the world how I feel on the inside with their hoards. Overwhelmed. Sad. Angry.

I remember at one point laying in my nest (bed) watching yet another Hoarders marathon. I was on ‘my side’ and I glanced over to the ‘X’s side’. It was covered with crap. Laundry..books..mail. Clothes and shoes. I think maybe a rolling pin and a cat. An empty water bottle and an almost empty jar of Vicks Vapor Rub. My wedding album in case I want to look at my Wedding Photos again at 3am. A real live pumpkin I painted with my daughter for Halloween. Stuff everywhere. Important stuff. I literally had 18 inches of space left in my king size bed. I had my own little hoard. My blinds were drawn tight and I was hunkered down. I was actually filling up my loss with shit.. I was teetering on the edge of the hoarders abyss. I have to admit this didn’t terrify me like you are thinking. I was oddly comforted by it. Unbelievable right?

My friends however- they foiled my genius plan. They were not as enamored as I was with the hoarding lifestyle. Apparently being depressed and slightly delusional is a requirement of this subculture. They kept cleaning up my house against my will..so my days as a potential Hoarder were short lived.

Just like my marriage…

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What if Karma is a nice lady?

 

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Hey Karma…I’m sorry.

It’s hard to comfort someone who is going through a bad time. A breakup. A divorce. A rude secretary at work. But a popular thing to say it seems is..’don’t worry, Karma’s a bitch..’ Lots of people have complete faith in this Karma person. They feel comforted by the thought of Karma waiting around in dark alleys getting ready to give the X ‘what they deserve..’

I’m not one of those people. I can’t help but try to figure out what I did to Karma. I mean I must have really pissed her off. She’s obviously not in a good mood. And let me assure you it was on accident. I hate hurting people’s feelings. I try not to be overtly judgmental (I just think it..not say it..). I am nice to children and animals. And old people! I always put my cart back when leaving the grocery store. I’m a good tipper. I never cheated on my spouse..

But Karma is mad. At me. And the X seems to be doing just fine. So what I’m thinking is this. Maybe we all need to start being nicer to Karma. Maybe she’s exhausted from all our dirty work and just wants to relax. Maybe instead of talking about what a bitch she is all the time, we should tell her how good she looks. How sweet her smile is.

‘Hey Karma, are those new shoes? They look fantastic!’

‘Karma your house is so clean! I don’t know how you do it!’

‘Have you lost weight Karma? You look so great!’

‘Hey you there. Karma is a nice lady. Stop calling her a bitch.’

So let me make an official statement. Karma, I’m sorry. So very sorry. For everything. So if you could lay off for a bit it would be real nice..❤️👠

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She smells rich…

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“Remember when we were in St Louis and went out to dinner and we walked by that woman on the street with her husband..and you said she smells rich..”asked my BDF (bestdivorcedfriend)…

Me “Ya..”

My BDF “I wanna be like that..”

Me “Ya..me too”

We sigh in unison. “Sigh..”

I guess it’s pretty common. This need to be something else..something better. To have more. I always felt that my X found me lacking. Or was it just that I found myself lacking? Actually I’m pretty sure he did find me lacking. Obviously. But I believed him. And I always wanted to be one of those women. The ones that had it all together. The ones he respected. That would make him happy..

In my mind I think of them as rich. These are women who smell like expensive perfume. Everyday. They aren’t saving it for special occasions. They wear white-and they don’t spill anything on it. They have perfectly straightened hair. They have manicured nails and designer purses. They leave lipstick marks on their wine glasses. They are thin. Their houses are perfect and they have fresh flowers on the dining room table. Their children are wearing matching outfits and taking violin lessons. They pick them up from school wearing pastel sweater sets and pearl earrings. They are painstakingly polite.

I’m not that woman. In fact.. I might be the exact opposite of that person. I AM the exact opposite of that person. I mean I can pull off one or two things on that list at a time.. If I work at it. But not for long. And not consistently.

I’m more of a curly hair and lipstick on my teeth woman. My house is only clean when I’m expecting company. I wear baby lotion instead of perfume on a daily basis. (What can I say I like the way it smells.) I usually wear black and still manage to stain it. No one at my house plays the Violin. I say Fuck a lot.

When I look at ‘those’ women I am just as in awe as my X always was. How are they doing it? I mean seriously..how the hell do they do it?! I guess that’s why I think of them all as rich. Because they must have plenty of money to pay the maid and hairdresser and dry cleaners. And if they say they don’t have help- I’m calling bullshit.

So why are we..why am I..so enamored with that woman. Who seems to have it all together. I mean really- she is ruining it for the rest of us. Like Martha Stewart and Pinterest. They trick us into thinking it’s easy to be that perfect. And it’s not! It’s not..

So now I’m divorced. Able to be myself..and not have to apologize for it. And I still secretly admire these women?! Has it been so ingrained in me by my X..by my X’s family. By society. That I still want it? Even when I know it’s complete bullshit!

You see. Perfect doesn’t exist. And when you are in a relationship with someone who finds the appearances more important than anything else..you are doomed. Trying to fit into the perfect picture was exhausting. And impossible.

So I don’t smell rich. And I guess I will have to live with that..

Does anyone know what divorced smells like?

Who the Hell are you?

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Who am I?

What am I supposed to be when that’s all I wanted to be… Wife. Mother. Stay-at-home mom. PTO president. Church volunteer. Wife. My family was my life. I had great pride in all of those things. I thought I had it all figured out.

Trying to reinvent yourself in your late 30’s. Against your will. What great fun! Said no one ever. I wasn’t prepared. I didn’t know.. I hadn’t even considered it. I really thought my X and I would grow old together. That someday our kids would be able to visit at Christmas with their own families and sleep in their old rooms. I would always be part of that. Part of him. We would weather through our tough times. I was naive. I held on to my marriage with all my might. It was who I was. It was my life.

But that didn’t work out. Request denied. Door slammed. Move along lady.. So now what? That’s the million dollar question. The last few years have been the hardest of my life. My divorce was pretty much a shit show. I had my pretty little picture ripped in two. There has been a lot of sadness. And anger. And let’s not forget the fear and anxiety. They are always close by. But I have strapped on my high heels and kept moving forward. 👠And with that I have began to redefine myself. And it has been at times liberating. I am no longer judging myself through the eyes of my X. I’m so much more than that.

I’m still a mother- just a single working one. And a woman. Just a single dating one. I’m a Nurse. A professional. A writer? A friend. A daughter and sister. I’m smart. And god dam I AM tough. Even when I didn’t believe it. I look in the mirror today and see a whole new person. Maybe..just maybe..who I am is more. I’m not sure yet. But I have hope in the maybe.

I’m not the same person that I used to be. But my divorce isn’t going to be my end all-be all. No! Almost every single aspect of my life has changed. Constantly evolving in my quest to figure this shit out! I will not give my X the satisfaction of breaking me. I will not continue to see myself through his eyes. Fuck that. Fuck him. He was wrong..

But I do know one thing for sure. I’m not a wife.

I’m divorced.

And I have the shoes to prove it…

Divorced Friends

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I remember hearing my mom talk about how there are different friends for different times in a persons life… You have your high school friends, the college friends, your mom groups, your couple friends… I’m not saying these groups are mutually exclusive. But they all represent different parts of who each of us are as a person.

When I was going through my divorce I was terrified. It was literally the most miserable experience I could imagine. I was totally unprepared. I remember feeling like I was drowning. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. I could barely think. Yet here I was in the middle of a contentious divorce. It wasn’t pretty. I needed to be at my best. And I clearly was not. (It’s like someone asking you to run a marathon tomorrow..with no previous training..and did I mention you have the flu?) I felt like a failure.

So I would try to seek some kind of relief. Some words of wisdom. I felt very alone. I didn’t know how to make it through my divorce. I didn’t know if I would be ok.. I asked Google. I literally typed it into Google ‘How to get through my divorce..’ (and I apparently wasn’t the only one..) She didn’t show me what I was looking for. (In my mind Google is a girl..) She sent me to sites that told me how to make lists and organize your visitation schedule. Advice on divorce lawyers. How to pray. How to ‘forgive.’ It wasn’t what I needed. I needed a real live person who had been in my shoes before. Who understood how divorce feels.

Married friends didn’t understand. How could they? I know that they cared..and that they were trying. But their advice seemed critical. These people knew how to be married..not how it feels to be getting divorced. They were going home to their husbands everyday.

That’s how I acquired my DF’s. Divorced friends. The people who also had driven by their X’s house at midnight on New Years Eve and realize this is perfectly acceptable ‘going through a divorce’ behavior. These people understand that sometimes you have to take a shower just so you have a place to sob uncontrollably. They know that Holidays are brutal. They tell you to avoid all TV commercials in the month of February. They don’t expect that you should be better in a few months..they know it will probably be a few years. They know what it’s like to pack suitcases for kids that you have spent only a handful of nights apart from since their birth- and send them off with the person who recently ripped out your heart. They won’t say dumb crap like it will be ok..it’s for the best..you’re not alone..you’re better off. They understand that this f***ing sucks and it’s going to suck for a really long time. So get used to it. They are willing to talk endlessly about what a complete narcissistic asshole your X is and how much you wish you were still married-and they don’t see any need to point out how that makes absolutely no sense whatsoever. They will hate the other woman passionately for you-just because. They get it..they know..they are divorced.. They have been in my shoes. 👠

Anxiety..You bitch..

 

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Divorce–reality. Here I am. 4 1/2 years later. Can you believe that?

I woke up in a cold sweat this morning… 6 am on a Sunday. Anxiety you bitch…I can always count on you…always by my side. Money…kids…work. How to change the lightbulbs in the Chandelier over the stairs. Who the fuck put a Chandelier over the stairs that requires a 12 foot ladder, accident insurance and maximum flexibility to change the bulb? Let’s safely assume it was a man. But anyway…I shall lay here worrying about it. That will help. I will worry…and feel anxious and lament my current circumstances. This is a perfect solution! Then I will get up and eat some of my kids old Christmas candy for breakfast.

Here is a short run down of what my current circumstances entail.

1. 42ish year old divorced mother of 3 with 10 extra pounds and anxiety issues . Single white female. Working mother…blah blah blah.

2. I have currently no lights on my stairs because I don’t have a ladder that will reach…. And somehow while laying in bed at (now) 6:30 on a Sunday morning after eating chocolate for breakfast and going back to bed- my ‘lightlessness’ is a direct result of my divorce. (It’s like that game I heard about one time where everyone in Hollywood can be linked to Kevin Bacon in 3 steps. But in my life- the divorce is Kevin Bacon…) Rationale as follows- 1) Husband leaves me for his lawyer girlfriend 2) get divorced 3) move to new house with chandelier over stairs and no ladder.

I know that many will tell me to move on and move up. Or whatever… And I am! I’m trying. I’m moving. Constantly moving. Sometimes forward. Sometimes backwards..a lot of times in circles. But I AM moving.

Divorce is a process. Divorce is ‘the gift that keeps on giving.’ It gives you anxiety. It gives you regrets. It also gives you hope for something better to come along. An ongoing process for a woman who finds herself maneuvering life as an unexpected Uno. And that process is my life.

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The Fabulous Four

 

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We are a team now. The Fabulous Four! Or maybe it’s the fabulous three..

With divorce things in your family change. It’s not what I planned- but it has been an interesting transformation. There are no longer two parents to take care of everything.. Now there is one. And she’s tired. And overwhelmed. And anxious. And did I mention tired??

At first I actually believed I would take care of everything. I’m the adult. The parent. My kids didn’t ask for this. In fact it was the opposite. They begged for no divorce. Please don’t! That was their vote. However we all learned pretty quick that it only takes one yes vote..then poof. Divorced.

I have 2 teenagers (boys) and a preteen (daughter)…and somehow we have worked out a system. I couldn’t do it without them. Now don’t get the wrong idea…not everyone is always willing..they are regular kids. They aren’t running around here asking for chores. “Quick mom! Tell me something I can do to make your life easier..” (They actually have perfected the art of ‘laying low’) Sometimes they pout. The always sigh and roll their eyes. They aren’t exactly happy about it.. But by God-we are a team- and when it comes down to it they always take their place on the field. That’s part of being a divorced kids. You grow up faster. No time to sit the bench.

My oldest is 18. He drives!! This is obviously his gift to the family. He drives a truck..so did I mention he is in charge of the trash? Naturally. He also is the best at moving furniture and lifting heavy things. He checks the oil in things. He changes lightbulbs. He jumpstarts dead batteries.. He’s our muscle. He will also have my back when I am checking out creepy noises in the garage.

# 2 is smart. Like seriously smart. He can do math. He helps with homework. He is technologically inclined. He resets the router-hooks up electronics- fixes my computer.. He also reads directions. So anything that requires more than 2 steps to put together- he’s your go to guy. He is responsible (and patient) enough to wait for the cable man. He’s the kid I call with specific requests like ‘go to the mailbox and see if my check from your dad is here’ because 1) he will answer the phone and 2) he will do it.

My daughter is mini me in training. She knows what’s going on. She makes everyone’s business her business. She eavesdrops as a hobby- and that can be quite useful. She loves all of our pets..so she naturally gets to assume all pet care responsibility. She feeds them and let’s them outside without being asked. She also passes out fashion advice (sigh) as needed. She knows how to make brownies and macaroni and cheese. She will make everyone breakfast. She is learning to sew. She can find stuff (because she is a girl..) She is happy and that reminds the rest of us to be happy too.

My kids have bonded in a way that I never expected. The 3 of them maneuver between 2 households, and all the chaos that comes with that, together. It is an experience that is uniquely there own. They have supported each other with the complete understanding that only they can provide for one another. They are each other’s ‘constant.’

We are a team… We mutually respect each other as team members do. It’s how we deal..how we cope. I have to I am admit I didn’t expect to see how the we would all pull together. It makes me proud. This experience has forced us to deal with things differently than we ever would have if there was no divorce. My kids are on the front lines of this family… And they are fabulous.

Snow Day….Go Day….

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Happy Snow Day…Or Go Day as I not so enthusiastically call the days my kids leave to stay at the X’s. Every other Wednesday/Thursday…1st and 3rd weekends..a complicated array of holidays and vacations. Even after all this time it totally pisses me off. Maybe not for the same reasons it used to. My reasons- like my divorce- have evolved. But what bothers me the most at this point is probably my kids constant inconvenience.

Look at today for example. It was a Snow Day! How great is that. A day to wear Snow Boots!  Sledding and sleeping and snacking. Since I work at the schools I was home too. My daughter was invited to a friends house mid-afternoon..what fun! On the drive over she blurted out–“Mom..I’m supposed to be going to dads tonight. I forgot! I’m not packed.” I assured her that I would take care of things and told her to have fun. But you know what. I’m pissed. For her. For all 3 of them.

How many adults would be ok with dragging their shit back and forth between two different houses? Suitcases..laundry..book bags..a Saxophone. Constantly balancing two different worlds. NOT BY ANY CHOICE OF THEIR OWN. It must be exhausting. It is exhausting. Leaving behind pets and teddy bears. Favorite pillows and video games. Wondering which house you left your football jersey at. Constantly forgetting something- because you know…you’re a kid. Where’s my laptop charger? I can’t find my Star Wars t-shirt! I only have one shoe…the other one must be at dads! I’m sick- I don’t want to go-can’t I please stay home mom? The constant “where am I this weekend?” question. If I were them I would be furious. Hell, I am furious. I am pretty sure they will NEVER thank us for this carefully constructed schedule that is their childhood. As a parent I feel ashamed…

One of my many regrets during my divorce is letting myself be bullied into mid-week visits by my X and his lawyers (yes there was an S on the end of that..) I let lawyers and a man who cheated on me for years convince me that any Judge would grant him 50/50 custody (or more..) if I pushed my luck. The X deserved to see his kids, right? Not at their convenience but at his. Midweek visits in MY OPINION are wildly inconvenient and intrusive to my children’s lives. It’s chaotic. They don’t like it.(And that doesn’t mean they don’t love their father..because they do..but that’s not really the point.) The kids resent it. But they have no choice. And I feel pissed…and sorry…and guilty. No matter what happened or whose fault it was..I can tell you who is paying the price. And I’m not talking about me…