Monthly Archives: February 2015

Okay, So I Blew it Today With STBX

My anxiety over this job is coloring every aspect of my life. The interview went well, at least I thought so at first. The longer I go, the more I think I blew it. I’m really upset that with all my computer knowledge I’m getting shit for not being familiar with the Microsoft Office Suite (I’ve been on an Apple for four years). She really wants someone who can step in and produce Excel reports and make Power Point presentations and I would not be able to. I’d have a small learning curve as I got back up to speed. That one thing could make or break my getting hired.

I did find out that a woman I report to for the Saturday Breakfast for the homeless twice a month is on the Board of Directors. I wrote to her and gave her a heads up that I named dropped her name. She doesn’t know me well but she can talk a bit about my character. I called the other people who are on my reference list. One of them I am meeting for coffee on Monday morning and the other has retired but offered her email and telephone for the references and told me good luck.

Last night I was helping with preparing these simple soup dinners we’re having at church on Tuesdays throughout Lent and I was catching up the assistant priest on how the job thing was going. Then a woman chimes in from the front desk saying she’s on the Board of Directors too! I felt so embarrassed. Didn’t know what to say to that. I followed the priest back to his office and said, “OMG how awkward was that?” He smiled and said, “That’s grace. That’s what this community is all about, making contacts.” I told him I’m not used to that. Later I found out that there are four members of my church on the board.

I had hoped to hear from the woman I interviewed with by now about a face to face interview so I’m starting to lose some hope. I figure she’d interview me simply because she feels obligated. Doesn’t matter. It’s out there. It’ll either work in my favor or not.

Staying away from my favorite website has been really hard and bless her heart, one of my fellow chumps contacted me to let me know they miss me. It meant a lot to me.

Well, the big news of the day is that last night I received frantic messages from my STBX and I was busy at church from 2pm-8:30pm so didn’t check my phone until close to 9 pm. The opposing attorney now wants us to notarize the agreement we already signed and sent to him for $16.00 overnight. By the time I called my STBX he had the gall to ask where I was. I laughed and said, “I was out. I was busy.”

So I met him today at the bank, but, since I am wound up and anxious I did not behave well.

We had to wait for the notary so we “chatted” a bit. He asked how I was and I told him that I wasn’t happy that he and his whore would probably put down roots here when I need him to leave to get on with my life. He said, no, he hates this town and he will leave. But he kept saying, you don’t go where I go anyway. I said, “[Name], I’m avoiding where I think you might be. I want my town back.”

I said, “What 26 year old doesn’t want to have kids? You’ll have kids and you’ll be stuck here because her family is here. And no matter how much you think I deserve what’s happened to me, I don’t deserve that. You need to leave.

We then went to have our signatures notarized and as we were leaving her office I was making small talk with the notary about her head and chest congestion he all of a sudden started talking like a doctor. Telling her that the color of her phlegm is just that her esophagus is inflamed, blah blah blah, and I lost it. He was obviously repeating word for word what his whore nurse girlfriend has told him.

We were done, so I stepped out of the office and said, “Must be nice to have the knowledge of a doctor in your house.” Truthfully he is such a hypochondriac that a nurse is a good fit for him. But it just fucking rubbed me the wrong way. I left the building and was walking quickly to my car.

He followed and was telling me I don’t know what I think I know. So I said, “I know enough! And if you ever think I’m jealous of you or what you have you need to think again. I don’t envy anything you have. I want you to get the fuck out of this fucking town you fucking bastard.”

I said, “You’ve had a new relationship for a year and a half and you have moved on. You’re happy and wonder why I’m not happy too. I’m still putting the pieces of my life back together, asshole!”

He came to the car window and (of course, I expected it) said, “See? This is how you behave.” To which I mimicked his girlfriend, “Oh yes, look how patient I am. How sweet and kind I am. I never get angry. I never abuse people” then “You’re busy love bombing her and trying to convince her you’re someone else!” He finally walked away. But I think I called him a fucking bastard about three times in public. He was pretty pissed.

I’m not happy I did any of that. If I could go back in time I would not do that. I like to think I wouldn’t have done it if I weren’t totally on edge right now. But I don’t know. Maybe I would have.

I felt so awful. I started for home and then did a U and went to church. The assistant priest was in a meeting but I said that’s okay and I went into the sanctuary where I was alone. I cried silently for about ten minutes and then just tried to pray and get a handle on my emotions. I stayed for about 25 minutes and suddenly felt I could get on with my day and left.

While I was driving I imagined me telling the assistant priest what I had done and how ashamed I am of what I have done and I saw him nodding his head, saying, “I know. I know.” And suddenly I felt so much better. I suddenly felt that I don’t have to carry around the shame of what I just did forever, like I normally would, and beat myself up about it for days. I realized it was the wrong thing to do, I’d try harder in the future, but I honestly feel that God and only God really knows what I’m going through and how I’m trying desperately to hold on.

But now that a few hours have gone by I’m realizing that I’m always going to be a nervous wreck about something and that’s not good. I have to stop it. I won’t be able to handle a job, which is what happened to me in my past. I can’t afford not to work, I HAVE TO TRY TO PROVIDE FOR MYSELF. I can’t afford to be a sobbing weakling! There is no one for me to lean on.

I will not succeed if I do not get a grip on my anxiety. Throughout this almost year and a half of agony and pain I often said that I can handle the depression, it’s the anxiety that kills me. Still true.

I wish so much I hadn’t behaved so badly. It just allows him to keep telling everyone what a nutcase I am. And to some degree he’s right. But I didn’t deserve what he did to me.

Blowing up that way today sets me back and I don’t need that. When I succumb to one thing it has a ripple effect on everything else. I am seeing my therapist tomorrow afternoon, thank goodness. I want to ask her why I am suddenly in renewed pain about my STBX and his OW. They’ve been a couple for a year and a half. They’re happy. They’re in love and they’ve moved on. I’m the only one stuck in the past. What a ridiculous way to be.

I need to get a job. Get my own place. Increase my social activities. And move the fuck on with my life.

 

 

A Case of the Nerves

I’m pretty wound up. I’m trying to stop myself biting my mom’s head off or writing things I’ll regret on Twitter or over at my favorite website, Chump Lady.

I love that website. It’s kept me sane and alive more than once. But sometimes I can get overwhelmed with all the intense grief and despair. To know there are that many narcissistic cheaters in the world who’ve done so much harm really makes me wonder about the future of humanity and the bubble I’ve been living in prior to being in this position myself.

I’m pretty distracted because I have a telephone interview tomorrow afternoon for a job I want more than anything in the world. I’ve spent days preparing for any question they might ask me. I’ve never had a telephone interview before so that doesn’t help.

Soon I’ll have my hands on half of my husband’s lawsuit settlement so to get a job in addition to that will mean my future is finally here. The notion that I will hopefully soon be living on my own for the first time in my life is both exhilarating and daunting. I don’t want to count my chickens, though. It’s only the first interview in a job market where the competition is fierce. So I ask myself why would they hire me, and I go into a self esteem spiral.

On the other hand, what has me excited is that I am very qualified for the job and I’m passionate about what they do. I honestly think they’d love me and I’d love them. Too bad I can’t say that in the interview.

I had a bad dream about my husband and his other woman last night and it’s left me feeling unbalanced all day. It’s unfathomable that he is in love with her and doesn’t think of the pain he caused me. I want this job so that I can finally relegate him to where he belongs in my head. Some far off dark and dusty corner.

lent crossI really enjoy church during the somber time of year, as it is now. I don’t know what that says about me. But the music is beautiful, the message powerful, the crosses are covered with sheer purple fabric. When they remove them at Easter we will all appreciate the symbol again. We get too familiar and nonchalant about it. Depriving ourselves of it for 40 days is worthwhile.

I was afraid I’d feel like a fraud by returning to church. I am absolutely gobsmacked that all of this feels so normal and right to me. At first I felt comfortable just needing to feel closer to God. I wasn’t sure if I’d have belief in the rest. But somehow it feels natural.

I look forward to Sundays for two reasons: church service, and a new (to me) British detective series called Grantchester, which I just found out is done for the season, grrrr. This is day 5 of Lent and I am doing my best to be self aware, to think about God, and yay, I haven’t been in a convenience store for five days.

The Academy Awards are tonight and as much as I love movies, I could not care any less about the awards ceremony, especially the red carpet stuff. The focus on body type, dress, and looks in general is ridiculous to me. Even the idea that only one person will win in their category seems wrong. No wonder some people (usually best supporting actors) have a nonsensical speech! They probably haven’t eaten or slept in days.

I watched the Saturday Night Live 40th Anniversary show the other day and watched dumbfounded as little Paul Simon comes on the stage looking like one of the Real Housewives of New Jersey with his face all pulled back from plastic surgery. What is he thinking?

I’m just in a complaining mood. I think I’ll go paint and put some Bach and headphones on.

LATER:

Shit. I’m losing it. The anxiety of this interview. There’s just too much riding on it. Trying to behave for Lent, but thinking about my husband fucking his young other woman. Feeling bullied over at my favorite website, the place I go for comfort. I’ve got to hold on until after the interview. I’m afraid. Going to head for the ativan.

I’m not well.

Day One of Lent — So Far So Good

Day one of Lent.

Yesterday I met with the assistant priest and told him I was overwhelmed with trying to do this Lent thing right and he calmly told me there is no right or wrong way to experience Lent. We talked about my ideas for what I thought I should give up or add and I decided to not go into convenient stores for treats, if I want them I have to make them; In general to try not to overeat and be mindful when I am eating; Not to worry about formal prayer, but to make prayer part of my entire day. And to get out and move, weather permitting.

I took off the idea of staying out of the charity shops — I have no social life whatsoever and going to them is what I do. I have nothing to replace it with. I just must be more careful in what I buy.

And the best news is I got an email and the place where I have applied has asked for a phone interview on Monday afternoon. I am elated. I know it’ll be hard to get this job, but at least they are intrigued enough to want to interview me. No doubt there will be face to face interviews if I make the cut. I really, really want to make the cut. If I could tell them that they will not believe what they will get when they hire me — they would hire me on the spot. Bless his heart, tonight on the way out of the Ash Wednesday service the assistant priest told me if I needed to talk to him before the interview to let him know.

Sitting with him yesterday was so wonderful. I like him so, so much. He gets me, he has also had a heartbreaking experience with a narcissistic cheater. He very quickly got me to lighten up about Lent and being a perfect Episcopalian since there is no such thing.

They had four Ash Wednesday services today, oh plus one in Spanish, and I wasn’t sure what it would be like. It’s now a somber time of year — they’ve covered all the crosses and they will not say “alleluia” until Palm Sunday (I think). The choir was there so I was grateful for that, but no sermon today. I came home at 8:30 p.m. from the service and said to my parents, “I’ve been ashed.” And my mom said, “Oh my gosh, they really give you a lot, don’t they? It’s usually just a little smudge.”

I almost said, “Mom, these guys are nearly Catholics, what do you expect!” But didn’t. I washed it off because I think it would make my mom uncomfortable. If I were on my own I would have kept it on until bedtime.

I really hope my sister manages to move out here. She likes the same type of church (more or less) that my mom does, ie., modern music, etc. Maybe they can go together. I know my mom wants to go, but she won’t go alone. A couple of years ago I took her to what was to become my church and she wasn’t into the standing, sitting, kneeling, whereas I like it. It’s all good. Whatever speaks to you is the right way.

I don’t know what the next 40 days have in store for me but for the moment I am feeling very peaceful and mindful. It’s a great relief from the anxiety, jealousy, and hatred I often feel about my husband and his Hen.

I’m very, very nervous about my telephone interview and will do a lot of preparation for it. The good news is I have a nice voice, I speak clearly, and sound younger than I am, so perhaps that will help me get in for a face to face interview. Now I just have to work on sounding smart and useful.

I’m grateful for anybody stopping by to read this.

Plans for Lent. Goodbye to Uncle Bill.

I never set out to have a blog with any real mention of God, but I threw out a life preserver and God caught it. I am desperately trying to find peace in the midst of the pain of my husband’s infidelity. I was drowning; now I’m not.

At 16 months out I should stop calling him “my husband” since he’s been with his much younger girlfriend for the entire time, the now 27 year old Heather Ann — whom I detest almost as much as I detest him.

I saw some photos of the two of them, taken on Valentine’s Day, dressed to the nines before they went to the ballet. He calls her his “Hen” and yes, he used to call me that now and then. I’m surprised he doesn’t call her his little chick, given the age difference. And the ballet? Since when does he like the ballet?

He never took me anywhere because he never had a penny. Everything we did was done with my money. Even most of the things he bought me were with my money. And the closer I got to my money running out, the tighter I held those purse strings. And this made him resent me more, God forbid he actually try to earn some money. I don’t know how he’s keeping his little Hen happy, other than love bombing and lots of sex.

But I don’t want to reminisce about him and remind myself of all the hell I’ve been through. I just want to move on.

Lent begins this week, on Wednesday, and I’ve been giving a lot of thought to what I can do or give up in order to make my spiritual life stronger. It finally came to me last night after much soul searching.

First, I will not visit any convenient store or places where I have been running in and buying candy and other things that are making me gain weight. If I want desserts or sweets they will be homemade by me. In other words I have to go to the trouble to make them, not buy them.

Second, I will find ways to move my body again. Since swimming seems out of the question, it’ll have to be something else. I’ll find out what that is.

Third, I will pray twice a day, once in the morning and once at night. It will give me that 40 days to start to get a grip on using The Book of Common Prayer, which I find so confusing.

Fourth, and this will be the hardest but will have the biggest impact on my life: I will not go into the charity shops for the entire 40 days. I will not buy anything for my eBay shop during that time from one of the many, many shops I go to nearly every day of the week.

The reason I need to give up going to charity shops is two fold. First, while I can buy something for $6.99 and sell it for $175.00 which I did recently, that rarely happens, and in the meantime I’ve spent another $100 on stuff that’s just not selling. Just when I think there’s a pattern to when people buy from my shop, it totally dries up again. I am not coming out ahead — I am losing money. If I were coming out ahead I would not be giving it up for Lent.

Spending hours a day in charity shops is literally the only activity I have that gets me out of the house and moving and I’ve gotten dependent on it — addicted to it, really, and I’m not exploring other areas such as walking at the river, going to movies, painting, stopping for coffee, going to a book store or library, and in general having more interaction with people in the real world.

My two primary crutches which keep me from doing what I “should” be doing are the charity shops, and spending too much time on line, and to a smaller degree, spending wasteful time watching TV when all I’m really watching is crap (Vanderpump Rules? Really?)

So, today and tomorrow I’ll clear out my car and empty it of all the charity shop stuff that I drive around with. Stuff that’s mostly for me in my new life. Stuff I don’t need because my storage is already full. When I do get this new life, I’ll have to have a big garage sale simply because there will be no place to put it all.

I’ll spent much of Lent tidying my room, and taking as much as possible to my storage. I’d like to make room here to do some painting. I’d like to begin to learn a foreign language. I want to learn how to be an Episcopalian.

I can see from my very brief experience with my latest blog for my eBay shop that my heart isn’t in it — again I think it would be if I were making sales and was fired up about it, but that is not the case. And while I am more in love with my household goods than I should be, I find it a little boring to rant on about them. I am not one of these over confident women who think they have so much to offer that they create a lifestyle blog so that others can see how easy it is and how they must emulate me. No, that’s not me.

But I would like to focus more now on my goals and less on whining about my soon to be ex and his Hen. Those thoughts only hurt me and I don’t want to bring more hurt on to myself.

It certainly does appear that within a few weeks I will receive half of STBX’s lawsuit settlement. When that happens my life will change a bit.

I’ll give my parents some money, and hopefully will be able to pay off my daughter’s car so that she can breathe a bit easier each month. I will get my car tuned up, go to the dentist, buy a few new clothes, and then sit on the rest. My goal is to find a good full time job and when I get it, I’ll have the money to move out and actually buy myself a new bed and a new couch and whatever else I may need. I’m really excited about that.

Yes, I would still like my own business, but I’ve decided that I first need that full time job. If I want the side business I can do it on the side. I can’t afford to take big chances with that money which might leave me stuck here and dependent on my parents. I will add, however, that I’m still being really particular about what I apply for since I’ve made two mistakes recently and ended up canceling interviews when I suddenly realize I was wrong for the positions I had applied for.

It has to be a job I think I can live with for a while. I do have a lot to offer. I don’t want to waste my talents as a receptionist — I hate being glued to the phone. I wan to plan things, work independently, and hopefully travel. I’ve applied for a job with a local charity in town. They are the largest and most respected and they do more good for the community than any other charity around. I will pray that they feel my resume is good enough to call me for an interview. Getting this job would truly be the first day of my new life.

My dad’s older brother, his last sibling, is on death’s door and it’s heartbreaking. Sadder still that my dad can’t get to see him before he passes because he lives in Montana and dad can’t make that trip in the winter. I’m not sure if he’ll have a way to say goodbye or not. But it sure is making it clear to mom, dad, and myself, that all of our days are numbered. But mostly to my poor dad who walks around with oxygen 80% of the time.

Bless his heart, when the weather permits he takes the dogs for “walkies” around the block twice a day. One dog at a time, so that’s four trips for him. He puts his coffee and oxygen in his walker and he slowly walks around the block. I’m so glad he can still do that. He comes back and reports about the big white dog they meet and if the chickens were out in a neighbor’s yard.

One of the things I want to do is give them some money to use just for their yard. We are having a warm winter and the grass already looks like it needs a trim, unheard of in most Februaries in this part of Oregon. His yard gives him a lot of pride and satisfaction but the work of it is too much. I want to give him some money to buy some new shrubs and have his gardener come more often. I want him to enjoy the garden rather than have it be the death of him.

Before I could finish writing this, I found that my uncle Bill died in the night and I heard my mom going to tell my dad. He was a writer, artist, and photographer, and a really vibrant interesting, witty Irishman, who lived a good and colorful life. I’m sorry for him, but mostly sorry for my dad. What does it feel like when you’re the last sibling alive?

God bless Uncle Bill.

—————

Later: I went to a coffee shop alone and mapped out Lent 2015 in a new little diary. Then I went to storage to dump stuff there. Finally I came home and washed my car really well. Tomorrow I meet with the Assistant Priest to get a Lent game plan. Even in my depression over The Ballet Lover and his Hen, I must keep moving forward at all costs.