Thursday, July 11, 2019

Is it really like riding a bicycle?

Last night, someone commented on a picture I had posted sometime back on Instagram. I didn't think much of it because it's not the first time and to be kind of honest, one of my least favorite things about Instagram, you can't seem to get more private of a setting and for some odd reason, I seem to have quite a few men following me. I posted another picture, this one more recent and one where I'm not wearing make-up. I had posted it on Facebook because I had recently dyed my hair but beyond that, it was pretty much me. And a little while later, I'm engaged in a conversation with the someone who commented on my other picture.

It's weird because just over 20 years ago, I engaged in a conversation with someone due to his profile, and he didn't even have a picture. It was just a goofy username with gender and location and two lines from a poem I'm very familiar with: Robert Frost's "Stopping in the Woods on a Snowy Evening". That's all it took for me to meet my future husband. I was 18 years old, less than a month from graduating high school and I was home on prom night. We met in person 13 days later and the rest, as they say, was history.

Twenty years later, I'm not so confident in myself. I wasn't entirely confident then either but more so then than now. Now, I'm a bit heavier, a bit older, and have a lot more grey hair (because yes, I did have at least SOME grey hair at almost 19!). I was starting to wonder just what in the hell I was doing and told my daughter that I'm probably going to end up being one of those crazy cat ladies. Her response was that she could see me more as the crazy corgi lady. Either way, the thought of even going down that path to another relationship terrifies me.

And then the grief hits a little, grief that things didn't go the way they "should have". There's grief in the fact that I miss him but at the same time was lost  and couldn't even remotely be myself with him here. And worse, that my oldest daughter could not be herself with him here. But 20 years makes for a difficult habit to break and I have to say it's a good thing he's 6000 miles away.

It was this time last year that I was getting the process going for the divorce. He was actually served the papers the day after my youngest daughter's birthday (since he was looking to leave for Korea at some point, we had to move and get things going so that it could be mostly done before he left). There were definitely a lot of what ifs and fear and things I wasn't sure about and there's been a lot I have dealt with and made it through the other side of. While at times this amazes me, at other times, I feel like I've been on survival mode, not really sure where I'm heading.

Again, I have to figure out what I want out of my life, what I want out of a relationship, if I even WANT a relationship. Getting divorced seemed to have been a breeze in comparison. And dang it, it really doesn't help when he pays bills for me and sends me flowers, a bear, chocolates, and a smiley face balloon for Mother's Day. Why does it have to all be so dang complicated?!

Sunday, July 07, 2019

The Hardest Part of Being Divorced?

I would have to say it's the loneliness. For all as much as people say they hate your spouse, as much as they go on and on about how the relationship is unhealthy and you should be rid of him, for how much they say yeah, they'll help you once he's gone and so on and so forth, once he is...crickets. I've been hearing nothing but crickets for the last seven plus months now since my divorce finalized November 30th. Heck, I was hearing crickets even before then, after John left for South Korea last August. People in my family don't call to see how I'm doing. I have had a friend who has called and people will ask when I attend our monthly meet ups but for the most part, crickets if not outright implied, "Suck it up Buttercup," when I do ask for help.

I am a single mother of two children whose father currently resides in South Korea. I work 40 hours a week M-F. I also work at a call center where I am on the phone most of the day and I'm hearing impaired. What most people don't know is that when you are hearing impaired, it takes more energy to get what you need from conversations than you would if you were not hard of hearing. I had note takers when I went to college from 2014 to 2017 because of this. The idea was for me to be able to not wear myself out as much trying to take in the information because there were people there to take the notes for me. And they transcribed everything that was said in class (when they could, student responses were not always easy to hear). I rely on lipreading as a secondary way to catch the things I miss from my hearing difficulties. I don't have this option on a phone. Unfortunately, call center jobs tend to be the better paying ones. Oh, and because of the hearing, my speech isn't always perfect. Most people hear it as an accent but it does tend to mean that when I have to spell names out (which I do frequently), I have to overly do it because people aren't always able to understand me. I can't just spell out letters, I often have to add, "as in ..." to it especially Os and Rs because for some reason, people seem to hear my saying R as saying O. So again, EXHAUSTING.

On top of this, I struggle with a mental health disorder that worsens considerably during the summer months due to PTSD. I was a witness to a murder back in 2003 in my apartment. My mother broke into my apartment because she had had a fight with my BIL the night before and he was over there with my sister trying to keep me level because my mother had psychologically harassed me because I wouldn't agree with her when she kept saying he deserved to be killed. Moments after she broke into my apartment and started hitting my BIL, my father followed her in with a hunting rifle and shot my BIL three times with no warning, no threats, kicking in my bedroom door when my BIL tried to escape from him. Three consecutive shots with little time in between. He died in my bedroom. So, the end of June gets pretty rough for me and when you go from that to 4th of July with all the fire crackers and extra fireworks that can sound like gun fire, yeah, not a fun time of year. Add in Father's Day and from mid-June on, I'm a bit of an emotional wreck.

Crickets. And even better, I figured out one of my triggers is massive amounts of loneliness most likely due to the fact that I was taken down to the police station, after witnessing this, put into a break room, and left alone for THREE HOURS. I even had a little bit of blood on my face from when my mother broke the window on my door because I was in front of the door trying to block it. No one looked me over. I had to take care of it myself. My sister was taken to the hospital, looked over because she was 21 weeks pregnant and my dad had kicked her. She had her husband's family and a few members of our family with her. I had no one for three hours running a play by play of this murder in my head (well after I tried to call every single person I could possibly think of whose number I had memorized or saved on my cell phone but I eventually ran out of people to call). John was in Korea then too. We were only engaged at the time but we got married literally 15 weeks later. I moved our wedding date up just to get him home. Because even then, after going through something like that, I had hardly anyone there for me. And we won't discuss what the legal system put me through.

My relationship with John was not a healthy one. We were very much codependent on each other, both due to crappy family. It took me forever to leave an unhealthy, controlling marriage because ultimately, I had to accept the fact that I was going to have to do this alone. I would never have anyone helping me or really by my side despite what they would say to the contrary. I would be the one to have to take care of everything and everyone and I would have to do it ALONE. Still, it's really freaking lonely and I really could use some help. My house is a disaster. I can't keep up with the cleaning. At some point, I'll probably have to suck it up and get enough money together to hire someone to help me with it but I'm afraid too someone might turn me in to CPS because of it. Not that it's so bad we have bugs or mice or anything like that but I know from past experiences, that that is one thing children CAN be removed for. I have a lot of clutter, things that need to be gotten rid of. But that takes time and a larger vehicle and neither of those are things I have right now.

People ask why women go back to abusive partners and do it so often. Well, pretty easy to answer. A lot of them don't have the support and/or resources they need to make it on their own. Not to mention, the abuse from the former partner tends to leave her with low self-esteem and a lack of confidence. That doesn't make it easy for anyone to make friends or even have ways to meet people. And if the former partner is good at love bombing, it can have even more of an effect on someone who is already in a vulnerable state.

I had family who made sure to make me feel like I was nothing but a huge burden. When I was staying with an older sister and things got delayed with us going over to Korea, they allowed their power to be disconnected. Only it was Wisconsin in the winter so it didn't get fully disconnected but was this weird half hour on, half hour off deal that massively traumatized my then three year old daughter. I ended up leaving and going into town to stay with my younger sister.

What doesn't kill you tends to make you stronger but it still really freaking sucks sometimes because I can't do everything alone. I'm just one person. And for a species that is supposed to be a social species and help each other out, we really suck sometimes and instead are selfish, isolating, and ostracizing. I'm doing it. I'm getting through each day somehow, but I hate that it has to be such a fight some days. It shouldn't have to be this hard, we should be there for each other but we're not. And family especially can be rather disappointing in that regard.