I've gone from being a relatively free woman with a boyfriend to a 'mom' without male companionship. The man I believed to be my soulmate left me because he couldn't handle me taking on a child. Trust me, that hurts - that's telling me he didn't value me enough to love me through this. Wish I could let him go that easily. Now, anyone who judges the fact that I am trying to go out dancing as much as possible had better stick their heads up their own asses. I don't drink, I don't 'party', I work and do my damndest to maintain my responsibilities. The boy has food, shelter, clothes, love and warmth. What always would get me through breakups is DANCING. So I'm going to Dance.
My note to my son: last night I dreamt that you and I were on a road trip somewhere deserty, halfway abandoned but with people there to survey and rebuild something. It was technical and current, so it wasn't Mad Max or Western stuff, it was concrete shells of buildings like observatories or adobe housing. It was all in yellows and greys, and I was doing laundry for the small day care and you had to ferry people around (yes, you drove) to the different potential sites. A tornado warning went into effect while we were expecting severe thunderstorms, and I had to hurry and take the clothes back to the daycare. For some reason, we both decided we wanted to ride out the storm IN THE OPEN, ON HIGH GROUND, and about the end of the dream, while you were walking to see where we could park the car and I had given the clothes to the day care, we realized we were being deathwishy.... miss you my son. And yes, Oddity was in them somehow, these last few nights. Ive been tiring myself out the last two and still get up at 7 or 6. If not, I get up at 2 or 3 and cry, because I dream of kissing Oddity again, holding him, being loved by him. I don't get it. He really hasn't met my desires. He's coldshouldered all I've said in the past two or three years. He can't show desire. His passion is strictly for himself, no thought at all to sharing my passions. He will see how to share someone elses, but then he dumps on it if it seems not to fit some notion he has. I'm confused as to why I seem to want to return for more. Why do I love him? Because I see potential in him? But... I'm not here to change him. He has to himself. And I know if I pull away, he'll go on, and use it as a tragic story casting himself as the wronged party. Yesterday we met up at Musser park to walk around and look for cicada shells. I had Neno, and in my opinion, it wasn't bad. We had a good time, just walking around. Neno wants his attention. He tells me that Oddity's house is his daddy's house, and was upset when Oddity left. I suspect it has more to do with Neno's separation anxiety but it was still cute, and heartbreaking. And I'm an ESL TEACHER!!! so very lucky in other aspects of my life - the aspects he wants to be normal and stable and commonplace, are chaotic and random and richly rewarding. I sure hope time hurries up and eases this pain.. though I'm sure I'm in for a lot more instead. Should realize by now that's my life.. c'est ma vie.
Yaya saw the neighbor woman behave frantic, almost screaming into the phone. We went to see what was going on. She tells us the dresser fell from the second floor balcony along with the neighbor helping them, she's calling an ambulance. We walk out to the back to see her husband holding up (to prevent aspiration of all the blood) on his side the neighbor. There was so much blood. They were moving the dresser through the second story balcony when the railing gave way. The dresser took a dive as did the younger man, head first onto the concrete walkway (narrow; there was more grass on either side than the entire length of the walkway. But his head hit the walkway edge). The dresser teetered, then took down the railing of the back stairs and landed on the guy. He was breathing when I got there. I was alarmed that he had been moved, but it was to prevent aspiration. He was twitching a bit and we called his name. I tried to check for a pulse. He had one, but it was faint. EMS came, worked on him for at least 15 long long minutes. I did compression CPR as the EMS worked around him, with the fibrillator and the pump and the air and putting him on the plank - but ... but I think he died while I was holding him. We kept his heart pumping, but he flatlined in the ambulance. He was 46, strong and just newly closer to his girlfriend. I helped the neighbors clean up the back (so much blood, so thick and red, with small specks of white). There was a hole/dent in his head. There was so much blood. My heart is broken. Just like that, with no further adieu. The lights went out for him. No warning.
He's pulled away, and for every time I've complained about him, I've cried. I think I've cried the whole weekend. I spoke to him today, and the sticking point is that he feels uncomfortable with the ingratitude and selfish behavior of my youngest. I have the grandson and he's not comfortable with that level of involvement with my family. And I find myself both in sheer terror of losing him and confused as to why I hold on so tightly to someone who simply doesn't love me the way I do him. I don't get me sometimes.
Well, things change! I rescued my youngest and my grandson in this manner: I told her to come to me in Lancaster. The drama that ensued was pretty much expected but disappointing. First, the boy's father being a dick. Then my own daughter being a selfish, manipulative, thoughtless, careless and bullying kind of person. Six months in, she still hadn't organized what was needed for my grandson. Since I had wanted to quit my job (I simply HATE A/C and sitting still - I was falling asleep EVERY DAY at my desk!) I elected to do so and get the ball rolling on my grandson. First thing: guardianship - which after an initial hiccup, I was granted unconditionally. Then the headache of the medical records, still in progress because his father refuses to give over the papers. I do have his Birth Certificate now, and he has WIC and CHIP. Now may apply for SNAP for him alone. I have my other jobs - the IU teaching one, and the restaurant - and I love them fiercely. They don't pay as well as people think I should pursue, but I love them. And to me, that matters more. But Oddity has forsaken me. He doesn't want to be a family man. I'm finally driving, I've more or less steady employment, I'm more or less stable, but due to having a dog and now a little person relying on me, he has stepped away. We were becoming distanced anyway; I love my jobs' crazy hours and I had been the one sacrificing time to be with him, plus only doing what he liked, not what I liked. So I guess, objectively speaking, it's for the best. I have no lack of attention, if you must know. If I had the inclination, I've lots to choose from. But... and as is always the case, Oddity is whom I want. I will not demand change. The gauntlet was cast down and the challenge was not only roundly rejected, but the playing field was abandoned, to my sadness. I am trying so hard not to let the sadness turn to depression, but the little things pile up. Yesterday I scraped up my car and now I am feeling wholly miserable. My body hurts all the time, my room is (to me) a horrifying mess, I can't seem to get enough alone time to catch up to my workouts or my mental health, and money is always tight I could survive any of these with my optimism intact. It's the fact that they are all happening at once that is killing me at this moment. Ah well. best I can do is forward and onward. No matter what, little life and animal life is at stake and they matter.
Is it normal to have your stomach ache from eating something you like - and then see it swell and feel uncomfortable for hours? I realize that my 'bloat' stopped happening as I cut out tons of stuff I used to eat, from pizza to fast foods, sodas and juices, almost all snack foods period - but occasionally, I'll eat or drink something I like and find myself in agony and discomfort. Does this happen to everyone, or doesn't anyone feel like this? Right now the skin around my waist and hips itch like a bitch. I have to shower and apply baby oil and lotion every day = but it's too cold to do that every day. I am super sensitive to the cold and I know everyone's heartily tired of hearing about it. But when it comes down to being able to eat only if the kitchen is closed and the oven is on heating up the room, it is a big deal. In the cold, my insides shiver so hard eating becomes difficult. And I suspect I'm the only one this happens to in the house. :( I hate the feel of always being cold; I can literally count the moments I have felt warm on my hands over the past weekend, probably sticking to one hand. It hurts awfully, and now the skin on my face and hands feel like they are burning due to the cold. As I age, the skin takes on this paperlike crinkly look and feel in the cold. It's dreadful. Teresa and the baby live with me now, and I know it's a strain on the rest of the household - the noise and the inability for a certain young woman to keep boundaries intact.... But I was like that. And the only way to learn is not to coddle her.
Every time I decide to be introspective, I find a new thing to be thankful for and amazed at. Two nights ago, I realized I do not dread going home. I don't fear it. I don't find excuses not to go home. I don't go to anyone else's house - in fact, while I love being at Ray's, I'd rather be home, where my friends and my dog are. I'd rather see Shawna and Davey and Danny and Guy and Mike and Cutty and my Shadow than be outside or in the park or doing extra hours at work or anything else. I am comfortable. My home is comfortable. It is safe. It is welcoming, and while cold in the winter, it's mine. I have my oasis of peace and my geekfest, books and computer, food and friends. I cannot emphasize how comfortable I feel. I wonder if this is one of the factors in why menopause isn't truly kicking my ass as it has to so many other women I have known. Or why I feel healthier despite my food sensitivities and IBS and TILT. I have a solid boyfriend; he's difficult but loyal, sweet and pissy, hardworking and a tad selfish. No matter where he is, he's mine; no matter where I am, I'm his. I feel like I have nothing to fear, for the first time in my life. This could also be the age I'm at - late 40s, content, hormones not fucking with my head, my mental illness no longer manifesting because my stress levels all live in NY.... Yea, I'm happy. And extremely grateful.