Monthly Archives: June 2015

I Don’t Want to Have My Birthday, But it Beats the Alternative

Because the non profit I work for is going through a transition, we’re all stressed. I’m particularly stressed because of the entirely new phone system and how the trainers are not training me nor have they set me up properly. I felt like walking out today. I heard that voice in me saying, “You can’t do this. You really can’t do this.”

This has been my life in the past. Things get really stressful and I cave in and then I walk away. Stress is difficult for me. But is it “easy” for anyone? Probably not, but they handle it differently. My panic button is set to go off very quickly and severely. I overload and can’t understand what’s being said to me. I feel inferior. I feel ill-equipped. I feel I am horrible at the job and that they are seeing it and will not want me.

I’m pretty sure I’m not horrible at my job, but I do think I’m a little high maintenance. I don’t like to be high maintenance. I don’t like to think of my young colleagues rolling their eyes at one another thinking, ‘there she goes again.’

Tomorrow is my 58th birthday. I’m feeling particularly bitter about it because I resent that I am here, getting used to working 8am to 5pm five days a week, learning new things, trying to get enough sleep, wondering how long I can keep this up. Wondering if I’ll ever own a home again.

I fucking hate my ex for making me end up alone. And please, nobody say, “Oh you’ll find someone.” Because the odds are not good that I will.

I fucking hate him so much. Him and his now 27 year old girlfriend and their future, whatever it holds. Maybe her family thinks he’s exotic and maybe they’re enamored with him. He is a very, very good ass kisser and love bomber — that is until he flips and no longer gives a shit.

On ChumpLady, the website I go to for so much solace (and it has saved my life countless times) is getting harder for me to spend time at. First, I just don’t have the time to read every comment and offer hope to other chumps. Secondly, sometimes their fresh pain can be triggering. And third, when they talk about meeting someone new, or falling in love again, or having a sex life again, I get so envious that I feel ashamed of myself.

I’ve only been working full time for a bit over two months but it feels like six months! Tomorrow is the first day that I am taking the afternoon off to go and see my therapist whom I haven’t seen in over two months. I’m sure I won’t know how to catch her up on stuff, but the bottom line is I need to ask her how to better handle those moments of panic which give me away.

I wish I could remember God at that moment. I usually remember God a bit later when the panic is easing and thinking of God helps to calm me. But I wish I would remember him earlier. I think I’ll call the Assistant Priest at my church to ask him how to be more aware of God in those really stressful moments (and always, really), because it does help me.

Being a receptionist is a very difficult job. I’m there twenty minutes early, I never get a full hour lunch, I’m driving around after 5pm looking for a flipping mailbox. And during the day everybody else can take a moment here and there to calm down and de-stress, but not me. I’m chained to the phone. I really dislike that. But this was the only job I could get. And it will probably be the last job I get.

I emailed a mortgage guy that was recommended to me and his assistant called me back yesterday. I gave her my social security number so they could run a background check on me to see if I might qualify for a loan. When she started asking me questions I realized how absurd it is for me to be contemplating buying a home for at least a year!

I’ve only been working for two months. I declared bankruptcy a year ago. I really don’t think they’ll be able to help me at this time. The sad part is that I found an affordable home that I’d really love to buy. I wish I hadn’t looked at Zillow. Do not go to if you don’t want to find the little house of your dreams. Sigh.

So I’m hoping that I get the news in the next few days that I should try or not try to get a loan at this time. It means more time here under my parent’s roof. Thankfully they are fine with me staying here. I can save so much more if I’m here rather than paying almost a mortgage in rent. But being on my own will be better for my mental and physical health and I’m so, so eager to get out.

For now I’ll stay put.

I don’t want my birthday to be tomorrow. I don’t want to be 58. I don’t want anyone to acknowledge it. I just deactivated my Facebook for a few days so that I would not have to look at “happy birthdays” from people who only remember because Facebook reminds them of the fact. My mom keeps asking me what I “want to do” for my birthday like I’m a kid and going to say, “Chuck E Cheese!” She won’t eat at any place remotely exotic so I don’t see the point.

Having no one — not even a girlfriend to go out with, is just terribly shameful to me at this point. I feel tears coming on again.

Don’t try to make me feel better. It just is what it is. I recently saw this photo that my daughter sent to me. When I call her cell phone this is what she sees. I was only about 22 years old and never thought I’d end up alone:



The work week may be hard for me, but at least it is quick. Here it is Friday again and I’m terribly exhausted.

Work was busy and stressful, but also I’m beginning to see where there are some unfairnesses going on., i.e. I’m working twice as hard as the person who is supposed to cover for me at times. And she probably makes double what I make per hour.

This is bound to happen. It’s all part of office dynamics and I need to decide early on that it’s not worth getting too worked up about. But that’s my issue, that’s my anxiety disorder: I get worked up. It’s not fun, nor is it fair, but I need to find a way to let things go that don’t seem to bug other people. It is not easy being me.

I came home tonight with dinner for my parents and said I had to take an Ativan before I talked with them because I was so worked up. Thankfully I feel it right now and am no longer wound up. But I can recall how I got that way.

Since the divorce my ex husband and I have texted a few times about him giving me a few more of my possessions and also paying me half of the divorce fees. I cancelled on him a couple of times and was going to cancel on him after work but by the time I went to my phone he was already there waiting for me.

So I met him and he put three things into my car. I asked him when he would pay me for half the fees and he said, “Maybe Monday?” I said, “Okay. Why don’t you just mail it.” I said that because A.) I don’t want to meet him anymore and, B.) He won’t have it Monday or any day. Then I shut the car door and drove off. I’m sure he thought that was odd. I’m sure he’d have liked to have a chummy “congratulations, we’re divorced” conversation. But I wasn’t in the mood.

Then — are you ready for this? Then I watch as he hides behind a taller car, an SUV. I see him in my rearview mirror as he waits for me to get further from him, and he runs back into Nordstrom Rack where he had been shopping.

And I thought to myself, “Yeah, go shop you slimy, over perfumed, black denim wearing, pointy-shoed loser. SHOP!” There’s something especially humiliating about having a man use up all your  money, cheat on you, abandon you, and then allow you the honor of paying for the divorce.

Then I pulled over and cried. I haven’t cried in a while, which is amazing for me. I used to cry SO FUCKING MUCH. Then I called my folks and asked them if they wanted me to bring home Panda Express and they did.

I cried a few more tears but I kept reminding myself that HE is not tear worthy. I tried to stop myself getting into a blaming party (I was doing a lot of “If you hadn’t fucked up your life with the good husband you would not be working full time and exhausted right now.”)

I started saying to myself, “I’m grateful for my daughter. I’m grateful for Bach. I’m grateful for art. I’m grateful for forests. I am grateful for my job. I can do this.”

Part of me wonders if I really can do this. But I have no choice. I have to do it.

My 58th birthday is a week from today, next Friday. I have a 1 p.m. appointment with my therapist whom I haven’t seen since early April due to my new job. There’s so much I need to talk to her about I won’t know where to begin. I must find a way to see her at least once a month. I’m going to ask her about support groups or group therapy which might take place in the evenings.

I wish I could go to more church activities, but I’m so tired that I just get to church on Sundays. I want to find ways to have A LIFE OUTSIDE OF WORK. I just need to figure out how.

This weekend I will spend more time cleaning out this room so that it is livable. We’ll see how far I get.

But the things I know I should do that will help me more than anything else are to eat better and to get some exercise. I’m into full on night binging mode and just don’t know how to stop. I am thinking I’d also make an appointment next Friday to see my GP to ask about a nutritionist. I can’t see me at Weight Watchers, but I’d like to have someone to report my weight to. We’ll see.

Too tired. Got a bit of a sore throat and hope that doesn’t mean a summer cold is in my future.

Maybe today will have been the last time I’ll see my ex. One can hope.


A Milestone — I’m Divorced

I got divorced on Thursday. I think it was Thursday, anyhow.

On Wednesday afternoon my now ex called me and when I got off work I texted him:

Me: “You rang?”

Him: “I did. Call me.”

Me: “Don’t you mean, ‘Call me, please?'”

That was the last communication we had. So he doesn’t know I went the next day and filed and stood in front of a judge and was divorced within an hour.

I thought it was sort of funny to have this information only to myself. I’d share it with him when he asked. After all, he had met me only a week earlier at the notary to have the paperwork signed.

I’m glad it’s over, don’t get me wrong. I’m real glad. But it somehow seems just  like him that he cares so little that he doesn’t ask. And he demands that I call him like he always has. He wears me out.

But last night, Friday, and now tonight, Saturday, I’m feeling so alone. I’m so ready to socialize and be with people and still don’t know how to do it.

I went to prepare and serve breakfast for the hungry and homeless at my church this morning and was struck again by how many intriguing, attractive, older guys are there in the kitchen. I just wish i  knew if any of them were single. Turns out, I’m single now. I’ve never gone so long without a love interest. Over a year and a half.

I’m not desperate. If I were I’d find my way to a bar or “nightclub” or dating website as people do. But I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that there’s no one I want to meet there.

I am lonely.

The work week still tires me out, but during the weekend, aside from Sunday church service, I wish I were at work because I’m aware of being so alone.

I’m making plans to save like crazy because my next project is to somehow buy a house. I only have about 12% saved and I need to get it to 20%. I expect to pay a higher interest rate because, thanks to my ex, I had to declare bankruptcy a year ago. My credit rating is already pretty high again, shockingly enough. But getting a mortgage is harder than getting a new credit card.

The eating is still very out of control even after spending $100 on supplements, etc. And the more weight I gain, the lower my self esteem will go, and I will seal my fate and not find a life partner. I really don’t want that to happen. I’m just not sure what to do about it.

A few times a week I have moments at work where I just forget stuff that I know I know. I’m so ashamed to admit it and it frightens me. When I think that eight years ago my ex met me, a woman who was fragile, unable to work, living within my means, and he took me for everything.

He’s fucking a now 27 year old with no guilt whatsoever about abandoning me. If you were to ask him he’d say my anxiety is what killed our relationship. Not the fact that never for one minute did he give me any security. He just used me up and then blamed me for being upset about it. Fucking asshole.

I don’t know how many years of work I have left in me, especially if I keep feeling so spaced out. There are days I have to remind myself of my coworker’s names even though I’ve known them for over a year. My anxiety disorder is so bad that when things go awry I just panic. I just go blank. I am so embarrassed and ashamed. I really wish I could go see my therapist. I think I will make an appointment for a day in July when I have new benefits. I wish she could see me in the evenings.

I’m sorry to be down. I still have optimism, I really do. But I am also frightened. And I feel alone. I yearn for my own home. Today I came home from the breakfast just tuckered out and I actually took a nap. Something I never ever do. If I had my own place I’d do that a little more often. I pray I can get my own place.

Every time we pass a milestone we have that moment of uncertainty and that’s all I’m experiencing. I have no regrets about the divorce in fact it was long overdue. But I’ll always wonder how he could con me the way he did and how I could have fallen for it.

The Challenges of Starting Over

This week was difficult. It’s still hard for me to get the amount of sleep I need to function well. I try to head to my bedroom around 10 but often am still awake at 11pm. Alarm going off at 6:15 — it’s not quite enough for me. Needless to say I was TGingIF a lot yesterday.

I’m gaining weight fast. I eat fairly well in the day, but after dinner I can’t stop eating. All my hard work and exercise the first year after d-day to lose 70 pounds and I’m afraid to get on the scale now, but imagine I’ve gained 25 or so pounds back with no end in sight. It’s mindless stress eating, pure and simple.

It’s something I really need to focus on now because my self esteem will really collapse if I gain any more. I’m going to spend this weekend making a plan to eliminate sugar, flour, and processed foods.

I’ve always liked Dr. Mark Hyman and thought this article about how to stop nighttime binge eating made some sense to me. Of course he makes it sound easy when it’s not. I am very aware that although I thought I had a tremendous amount of self control at the time, the real reason I lost so much weight is because of the “cheater diet” I was on. When you’re so upset you simply can’t eat much. Those days are gone for me now.

Nevertheless I am going to implement some of the recommendations in that article. Also I’m going to ask God to help me. I just can’t afford to have all the health risks that go with being obese.

Yesterday we had a meeting to go over the benefits we will have on July 1st when my work undergoes a transition. I look around the room at my young co-workers who have their whole life ahead of them to build up that 401k, but, thanks to my mistakes, I am starting (at almost 58) with nothing and wondering how far I can get before they want me to retire.

I wonder why I thought cashing in everything I owned to support us was a smart idea. It’s funny how my soon to be ex always exclaimed, “I never asked you for anything.” And that is more or less true. But he was so fucking needy. And our quality of life would have been even worse if I hadn’t kept cashing in what I had.

The part I feel the most foolish about is I thought, well, once it’s gone we’ll be on a level playing field. We’ll rise out of this mess together. But no. He’ll find a 26 year old and kick me out is more like it. It’s hard not to feel like an idiot. In fact I feel I deserve to feel like an idiot. I was so foolish.

I met him last weekend at the UHaul place. I rented the truck and let him drive off with it to his apartment to put my furniture in it while I went to church. He refused, as you know, to let me in the apartment we shared to see what I left behind. But I decided it wasn’t worth the stress of fighting with him, so I let him pack it up for me. Later he and a friend of his met me at my new larger storage unit and unpacked it.

So now I am free to get that divorce which is long overdue. I filled out the paperwork I picked up to the best of my ability and then met my husband at a notary on Thursday. I need to have an advocate at the courthouse look over the paperwork before I file it, and it might take two weeks to get an appointment for that, unfortunately.

But as soon as she has okay’d it, I will be at the courthouse some weekday morning at 8am, and by 9am it should all be signed, sealed, and delivered. I’m really hoping to be divorced in June, if possible.

He told me he didn’t have his half of the fees, about $150. I am going to tell him to find it somewhere. If he doesn’t come up with it, I’ll pay it myself. Just one more thing to pay for. I can’t believe they are letting someone like him become a US citizen. He can’t even show he’s ever supported himself, not here and not in the UK either. What a loser.

I also found that he still does not have a US driver’s license. He’s lived in the USA off and on for over eight years and drives with his UK license. You’re only supposed to be able to use that for six months! When I asked him why he hadn’t done it he started in about bureaucracy and conformity and I shut him off. The truth is that he is afraid of failing the driver’s test.

Ugh. That’s more than enough time spent talking about him.

My daughter came to visit on Monday and Tuesday. I was sad I didn’t get to spend more time with her because I was at work, but grateful for any time with her. She’s been dating a guy for over two years and their relationship has gone quite slow but it seems they are really in love and I’m so happy for her I could just burst. It’s long overdue. I’ve only met him once but really liked him. I asked her if she’d ever be moving in with him and she said she thought she would. Also they are planning a three week European vacation in Fall of 2016 so they’ve got fairly long term plans.

As soon as the divorce is final I am going to try to figure out if I can qualify for a mortgage. I hope I can and I hope I can afford a house payment. There is not much out there in my price range, but if I am patient I can find something I can live with. When that happens I will be on a very tight budget and I hope that I can rise to that occasion because there won’t be anyone anywhere who can help me out. But I’d rather eat beans than pay $800 for rent. I want to have something to leave my daughter.

My ex, the good one, was her stepfather since she was 13 and he keeps in close contact with her and gives her a large check every Christmas, bless his heart. She is the closest thing to a child that he has so I am very, very relieved to know that he will probable leave her something in his will. He certainly is under no obligation to do so, he’s just a nice guy who loves her. I wish so much I could find another man like him.

Lately I am wondering if I will always be alone. It makes me sad but I’d rather be alone than settle for just anyone. For now I’ll keep focusing on my own self improvement and leave it in God’s hands.