I’ve had a few down days. My anger is noticeable. I have to work hard not to take it out on my mom. She’s an easy target because she’s incredibly annoying.
Did my volunteer work at the kids center today and had a new advocate shadowing me. She’s mid forties and she was so clueless about when to talk, when not to — the young university students who volunteer there are more savvy than she was. But it is funny to think I’ve been doing this volunteer work for almost a year and I’m pretty good at it.
Last February I was still very, very raw and in so much pain when I began the training. It was hard to concentrate and I felt extremely socially stunted. I didn’t know how I came across. Pretty quickly I saw that they like me and consider me a huge asset. That feels so good. I love what I do there.
At the Saturday breakfast at church I’m not so sure I belong. I sort of stick out because I don’t have very many clothes and the ones I do have are not very casual. I think homeless people might be a little too much for me to bear which is odd because sitting with a ten year old who just admitted her stepbrother has been abusing her for years doesn’t seem to phase me. I guess we’re all strong in some areas and weaker in others.
But the good news about Saturday is that I chatted with the assistant priest (the one who was just ordained) about wanting to be useful. I told him the bare minimum of my sad tale. He was nodding his head and said, “It’s like a death, isn’t it?” He really got it. I adore him! I gave him my card and told him that as he starts new projects and needs help, to call me. He was delighted.
Then when I saw him after church the next day he asked me if I could bring a salad to the Feast of the Epiphany which takes place on January 6th. I told him yes, of course, and thanked him for asking me. Everyone needs to be needed. I need to be needed. I also ordered a book on line because starting in a week or two there will be some education classes I want to attend on Sunday evenings. It might be a better opportunity to get to know people there.
One thing the priest said to me is when he first joined the church, which I think was only in 2000, he was a lot like me — feeling the need to be there often. That just waiting for Sundays was hard. And it is. There is a service on Wednesday mornings that I may start to attend. And of course I can go there and light a candle and sit anytime I want to.
The Sunday service was odd because the Sunday after Christmas is a really low attendance day. Even the choir took the day off. But I drink it in, all of it.
My STBX messaged me yesterday to ask how I was and if I wanted to talk on the phone. I responded, ‘no, not really, unless you have news’ which he didn’t. But we did end up speaking on the phone and after I was done at the kids center today I met him downtown and he gave me another $50. I was hoping for more because he sold a car, but I don’t know how much was profit, and I’m not supposed to know he sold the car.
So I met him downtown again today and he came to the window and stood and counted out the $50 as if it were $5000. We talked for only a minute or so and I began to pull away from the curb when he opened the door and asked if I’d drive him home. So he got in and I drove him there. It just feels so damed weird. He really smelled good — he goes overboard on the cologne. I dropped him off and came home — it was all so surreal.
He was complaining of the bitter cold and talked about “getting out of this place.” This town has lost its novelty for him. He needs a new and bigger city. But I know the truth and the truth is that he will take his troubles everywhere he goes whether it’s Portland or Los Angeles or London, England.
Wherever he goes, there he is.
And what emotion do I find myself having tonight? Pity. I feel so sorry for him. But I guess as long as he’s oblivious to the fact that he brings all this trouble on himself, he shouldn’t feel too bad.
Who am I kidding? He doesn’t feel bad EVER. He’s a supreme narcissist! Duh. See how he tugs at my heartstrings and makes me forget that he’s fucking a 26 year old? He’s good at that.
I wish I didn’t still somehow find him appealing. I imagine that sounds pretty sick after all the things I say about him here. I just hope that someday I can feel that way about someone who is truly deserving.
I wrote a short note to my last husband — the good one — the 18 year marriage I fucked up. He’s still close to my daughter so he asked her if I’d be comfortable giving him my email. I told her yes. He’s not at all the type to email me more than a response to my note. He’s very happy in his relationship. I’m sort of eager to see what he says, on the other hand I don’t want to read it. I’m so envious of his relationship with his wife. I just needed to tell him how sorry I am.
I have so much guilt over ruining that relationship and I’m mourning it along with my current relationship — he would have always taken care of me. I had all the security in the world. I threw it away and never had it again I feel like such an imbecile. I never gave myself a chance to mourn the loss of him and recover before I met my now STBX.
I’m incredibly ashamed at how I’ve lived my life with no thought to becoming old or using up my assets. The only consolation for me is that Jesus always spoke up for the downtrodden and that includes people like me who just fucked up. If I work hard and learn from my many mistakes, try my hardest not to repeat them, I will be forgiven by God, but will I forgive myself? That remains to be seen. But I figure that if God can forgive me I should forgive myself — it gives me permission to move on and that’s a good thing.
It makes me feel I might be deserving of love again someday.