Aftermath of Bulimia Friday, Aug 8 2008

I haven’t talked much about my former eating disorder in this blog very much. In some ways, it is a topic I now avoid because I haven’t induced vomiting in over a year and that was part of a life I’d rather forget. However, my 7-year addiction to bulimia is now simply a part of who I am as a person moving forward. I can’t escape that time of my life because so much happened during it that has set my life course. The long-term effects just on me alone are staggering. The ways that my ED has rippled to those I have come in contact with are immeasurable. I simply have to accept that fact no matter how horrified I am. I didn’t even realize, until recently, just how bad I was during that time. I am well today because of 3 factors:

1) I got out of my first marriage. As saddened as I am to say this, I do not believe I would have gotten well in time before I either a) died or b) killed myself remaining married to my first husband. It grieves me on so many levels to admit that because he is not a bad person. He was simply fundamentally toxic to me as an individual.

2) I met my current husband. Yes, I was still married. Yes, he was too. There are consequences of this I’ll talk about later. However, the fact remains that he saved my life. He saw someone within me, buried as it was, that he liked and thought the world needed to have. He spent hours, days, immeasurable amounts of time just simply being there for me.

3) I got pregnant. A seemingly inopportune time turned into the best “mistake” of my life. Pregnancy balanced the rest of me out in a way I couldn’t see until very recently. While I was perfectly comfortable hurting myself, once my destructive behavior towards myself was hurting another living being, I couldn’t do it anymore. I am forced every day to take care of myself because that life depends on me.

Though I am “well,” recovery is a daily process in the sense of, I still have to fight my tendencies because of anxiety and depression, I still feel the physical effects and I have to deal with what I did at my worst thereby causing anxiety and depression that I continue to deal with on a daily basis.

Every day I sit at work I am grateful that I still have my job. My performance was TERRIBLE for about a year. The only way I can explain it is this. Think about the most hungry and most tired you have ever been at work. Then think of how you felt. Maybe you recall headaches, being jittery, your mind focused on getting some food and sleep. Maybe there was also just an inabilty to focus. Now take all of that and multiply that every work day over a year with compounding results. I was going to work every day malnurished with an electrolyte imbalance on top of severe depression and anxiety disorder and who knows what other hormonal imbalances. I couldn’t concentrate, remember simple tasks and instructions, deal well with others and just do my job.

My entire day was planned around food and when I could throw it up. At its worst, that was 2-4 times just during work hours alone. When I wasn’t focused on eating and throwing up, I was focusing on covering up my addiction and overcompensating in my behavior so people wouldn’t know. And until it got bad enough, I was a PRO at covering up. On top of all of that, I had gained weight because my stomach had simply stopped processing food correctly. All of my bulimic activities that were supposed to keep me thinner were making me fatter. Of course, none of that made sense at the time so I would go off the deep end even more throwing up trying to take the weight off. My self-esteem and body image were at ZERO. While I am not on People’s 50 Most Beautiful, I am attractive and shapely enough that, under normal circumstances, I do not need to try to be noticed. I never cared that much before either. However, when you have no self-esteem, low body self image, and are 30 lbs heavier than you are comfortable with (for a short frame, that’s a lot), you start to act desperate. I was making myself “available” for flirting and such while I was married because my husband was ignoring me. I need to get a self-esteem fix somewhere.

As a result of my bulimic induced stupidity, I put myself into numerous situations in which I was lucky, quite frankly, that I wasn’t raped, kidnapped or killed. Well, that’s not entirely true. I was sexually assaulted because I made a very poor judgment call on trusting a business colleague while on a business trip. To this day, the shame that comes with that incident…well, I just can’t go there. I don’t even remember most of it other than waking up in a strange hotel room laying in some of my own blood because I was having my period.

The more well I get, the more I’m aware of the damage to myself and others that I caused. I have to work every day at reminding myself that I am better and that many decisions were made under duress, stress and depression. I would not make most of the same decisions. And even that is hart because, while some have been destructive, I would not have my wonderful husband, nor my beautiful son. I can only regret but so much.

I’m not sure how to end this post. I’m simply aware and processing. I am trying to take the lessons I learned coming out of that time and live my life better and more full. My eating disorder will always be with me though. It just doesn’t have to rule me.

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So Much Drama Sunday, Jul 13 2008

I’ve been visiting other stepparenting blogs reading with some fascination the dialogue that occurs in the comment section.  Stepmoms, birthmoms, both stepmoms and birthmoms, stepmoms without children of their own, stepmoms with children of their own all commenting back and forth about their individual situations.  Each situation IS 100% unique.  As someone pointed out in one comment, there is always consistently one party this is more difficult.  In some cases it is the stepmom; in others it is the birthmom or the ex.  And really, let’s be honest, sometimes it is all of the parties.

Nothing brings out more emotions than talking about natural parents vs. the “unchosen” (aka stepparents).  Let me give some background.  I am adopted.  I was adopted when i was a month old in a private adoption through an agency at a time when state courts felt it best to send a baby along to her new parents with absolutely zero information about where she came from.  EVERYONE is a product of nature and nurture.  Denying a child knowledge of both is a dreadful misdeed.  I grew up with the best parents a child could want.  I love them.  They are my Mom and Dad.

However, as i think is only natural, I wanted to find out about my nature side.  Despite the fact my Mom understands me, I am not like her.  I have her habits, have chosen to adopt many of her values and beliefs, but there are sides to me that she cannot understand by virtue of the fact, we do not share genetics.  For some crazy reason, adopted parents think that this means their adopted child loves them less, thinks less of them or is rejecting them.  Nothing could be farther from the truth.  I simply wanted to complete the picture of my identity.  And through finding my birthmother and getting to know her, have done more of that.  I am at a level of understanding with myself that has significantly helped me become a better person.

Now, here I am an adoptee, an eating disorder survivor, a divorcee, a 2nd wife, a stepmother and a mother.  All of these titles make me who I am right now and each has given me compassion and empathy towards each part.  As an adoptee, frankly my heart goes out to myself and to my parents.  Despite the fact that I am their child, they have to have looked at me sometimes as they were raising me wondering where on earth I came from and what parts of me coming out were from her, my birthmom?  There are days I look at my stepson (who is now almost 4) and I am beyond frustrated by behaviors that I do not understand, that are in no way part of my husband so I can only assume come from her, his birthmom.  And then I pray for God to give me love that I can give back to him because some days I simply don’t have it in me.  As a divorced person (with no children with my ex), I sympathize with both my husband and his ex for having to deal with each other every day for at least another 14 years.  I would lose my mind if I had to speak with my ex all of the time.  The few times I have had to email mine over loose financial ends, I have been irritated and basically evil all day over the communication.  At least there will be a point where I never hear from him again and vice versa.  For my husband and his ex, that day will only come when one passes away.  As a new mother, I have grown in compassion for my stepson’s mother.  He is living with us for 3 months this summer.  I would go out of my mind if I had to send my son away for 3 months!  As a 2nd wife though, I counter that with the fact that my husband’s ex moved their child away 9 hours so he is without him for 9 months out of the year.

There are so many emotions on every side.  There is no way to even go through them.  Each side has their own perspective and beliefs.  Each side has their own anger, frustrations and hurt.  Each side always feels more justified in those feelings.  So what is the modern family to do?  We all know the statistics.  Divorce isn’t going to go away.  Stepfamilies, step-siblings, exes, new wives, new husbands, etc… is becoming the norm.  “Crazy” ex-wives, deadbeat dads and evil stepmothers are here to stay (all of those titles are tongue in cheek).  Knowing this, how do we all get along?  How does each side wade through all of the advice given and decide what’s right for their individual situation?  How do we foster respect?

I don’t know the answers to any of my questions and musings.  There are days I find myself wholly sympathizing with my husband’s ex and I want to extend the olive branch and other days I want to drive 9 hours so I can personally deliver a hard slap across her face.  Some days I want to love all over my stepson and be supermom and other days I can’t wait for the end of August.

I’m rambling at this point.  Anyone with any comments, feel free to post.  No judgments from me.  I’m a student of human behavior and interaction.  Even if I don’t agree with you or your situation is different, I’m still interested in anything that anyone has to say.

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A Stepmother’s Angst Wednesday, Jul 2 2008

Being a stepmother is NOT easy.  Knowing your husband will talk to his ex-wife for the rest of her life or his life or yours (whichever ends first) is NOT easy.  Knowing that I have to deal with her is NOT easy.  Dealing with my stepson and the fact he is half her is NOT easy.  Dealing with him living with us for the summer after just having my own child is REALLY NOT easy.  Having to balance being a new mom and all of the emotions and sometimes postpartem depression that brings, loving a little being so much that I feel like I am going to burst, being protective of said little being, having a stepson come to live with us for the summer after only 8 weeks with my baby, returning to the workplace to a job I hate, attending to my stepson and helping him and the rest of the family (down to the dog) navigate this new situation, and trying to even out the guilt my husband feels, etc…is the most difficult task I have ever had.

Being so in tune with everyone around me and being able to not only read their emotions and thoughts, but able to see the big picture, context and how they affect everything in their surroundings drives me fucking insane.  (I swear for pure emphasis.)  My stepson is just like his mom in the sense he is chalking up to be a highly sensitive person like her.  And he is confused.  For the love of God no one has explained to him why he is in North Carolina with his mom and his dad is in FL with me.  Then throw in the fact he has a new “baby brother” on top of everything that is his brother but is not from his mommy but they share the same daddy and you have one confused little 4-year old.  I feel his confusion every single day.  And it pains me.  As a result, he has turned into a very needy and whiny child.  He was like this prior to his parents divorce, or at least trending that way, but this has brought it out more.  Despite my empathy and wishing I could help more, I also honestly find myself irritated at his presence.  Irritated at his sensitivities and his lack of being able to do for himself like other children his age.  i get angry that his neediness is pulling his daddy’s attention away from our little baby who also needs his dad.  If I hadn’t had to go back to work, I could fulfill more in my baby boy, but I simply can’t.  Dealing with my job and inevitable corporate drama drains me.  I can’t come home every night to a husband who sits with his 1st son for an hour to console him leaving me with the baby AND dinner to make AND trying to keep the house up after a full day at work. I simply can’t do it.  I’m going to lose my mind.  And get angry.

After a lot of extra time spent on his 1st son tonight, my husband (DH for short) informs me that this type of night needs to happen more often because his son really needs him and it will be good for him etc…  When I try to ask questions or present more balanced scenarios for consideration such as doing things as a family he retorts that “we” are not family to his son…at least not me (implying that our son, his baby brother is).  My suspicion that he had some drawn out discussion with his ex was confirmed by his sudden outburst.  So I quit waiting for him to tell me he had talked to her and just asked.

We resolved the discussion after I was able to articulate why I was hurt and irritated, but it left me angry.  I’m still angry and have been unable to return any affection at the moment.  Despite apologies and a thank you from him to me for explaining why his “presentation” had offended and a promise to work on it, I’m still pissed beyond belief.  i haven’t exactly been able to come up with a why other than feeling offended.

The why is this… Stepparents of ANY kind know they are not instantly family to their stepkids.  And to be honest, my stepson is not family to me yet.  (This aspect seems to always be missing from stepparenting advice givers and the natural parents of the child that has been “stepped”)  He is still a rather foreign person to me that is living in my space, my home, my time, my resources and most of all, my relationship building with my baby.  Yet despite all of this, I love him and I love his father and I am 100% committed to working toward being a family with him.  And then to have the whole he is having a hard time with this and he needs more of his dad’s time and YOU are not his family thrown in my face to tonight…well, it has sent me over some sort of invisible edge.  Part of me wants to remind my husband right now at 11:45 at night that if I’m not family, then I should not be expected to continue to share my bedroom (yes, he’s sleeping in our room), my son (genetics do not entitle you to be family), my time (which right now consists of fulfilling most demands of this child), my money, or any other part of me or my resources with his son.  After all, I’m not family.  THEN WHAT THE HELL AM I?  Some sort of hostess with the mostest? Some sort of Betty Crocker, “here let me do that” and “of course I’ll make you your peanut butter and jelly sandwich even though I’m fixing chicken for everyone else” robot?

I digress.  I’m simply angrily blithering at this point.  More and more anger keeps building up thinking about this and the other thoughts this thought is leading to at the moment.  All of a sudden I’m really tired.  I hate the ex.  I detest her very existence in my life.  No, I had no idea what I was signing myself up for even though I married someone with a child.  I’m feeling hateful towards my husband right now (yes, I still love him though).  But all I want to do right now is go get my sleeping baby out of his crib, drive over to my parents house and curl up with just him in a bed and shut out everyone else.  Boiling it down even further though, all I really want to do is let myself cry.  Despite promising myself that I would let myself go emotionally when necessary, I still find myself tightly bound, controlled and refusing to give in to the tears that need to be shed.  *sigh* I must sleep now.

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I Would Have… Sunday, Jun 15 2008

My first college roommate decided to join the seemingly rest of the nation and sign up for Facebook. Admittedly when I first saw her, I was hesitant to contact her. However, I was intrigued that her profile said her maiden name and I knew she had gotten married a year after she graduated from college. So, I sent her a friend request. Sure enough, she also noticed I too had a different last name than before. She again apologized, in her own way, for being part of my wretched freshman year. That behind us, I found myself recounting, yet again, the tale of my failed marriage and found true love. Whenever I do this, I start thinking again of what really went wrong. When this happens, I also find a new slant, or perspective, through which I run my thinking.

The week before my stepson arrived, I was going through some old papers and I found the folder that contained all of the emails my ex-spouse sent me after I left him. I glanced through a handful of them shaking my head at the contents, but one in particular did stand out and I paused for some reflection. I kept seeing over and over again, “I would have done this” and “I would have done that.” I remember an email my husband showed me that his ex-spouse had written him that said the same thing. It was something along the lines of, “I would have searched the depths of my soul to find something good with you again.” Those weren’t the exact words but that was the gist.

After conversing with several others that have been through similar situations, the story seems to be the same. The spouse that gets left says, “I would have…to stay with you.” Well, why didn’t you? Why didn’t you sell your car? Why didn’t you stop staying at work so late? Why didn’t you search your soul? Why didn’t you re-prioritize? Why didn’t you simply look outside of yourself?

I am still surprised when others are surprised that their spouse finally decides to leave, or ask for a separation, or a divorce, or has an affair, etc… (This does not mean I am justifying or condoning here.) But if a spouse is surprised by something like this, other than in extreme circumstances, it just shows that the left spouse has not been paying attention. Even worse than the narcissim is if the spouse HAS been paying attention, knows something is wrong, and does nothing. And an even sorrier state is when the leaving spouse went to the left spouse and said, “we have problems. I think we should go to counseling.” And then the left spouse doesn’t agree, won’t go, or is in complete denial.

I would have… To the leaving spouse that this gets said to, this phrase means NOTHING by the time it is said. If you have to say “I would have…” in the first place, that means that there were things you knew you should have been doing and simply chose not to for whatever reason. Usually arrogance or the belief that you can ignore, take advantage of, crap on, etc…and the other person simply has to put up with it because they are married to you. Wrong thinking.

After one failed marriage, and being the person that left after 10 years of being taken advantage of and ignored emotionally, “I would have” simply does not cut it in a solid relationship. EVERY DAY should be comprised of, “I am going to do everything in my power today to love, appreciate and be affectionate to my partner. He deserves the very best of me before anyone else.” Granted there are some days where my best that day is simply saying I love you with a kiss as he walks out the door and back through it, but because most days are spent adoring him and receiving it back, I can say with confidence that during the hard days when I’m not at my best, he still walks out the door knowing he is fully loved and fully appreciated for just being himself and the person I love more than anything on this planet.

Don’t ever say “I would have…” Just do. Just simply do.

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Permission to Not Care Monday, Jun 9 2008

I am currently working on giving myself permission to not care. That sounds like a simple task, especially when it is towards two people that have had a seriously negative impact on my life. For an empath though, it is a serious challenge.

The first person I am seeking to give myself permission to cease caring is towards my ex-husband.  I do not wish him ill-will.  In fact, I feel quite the opposite.  I hope he finds the kind of happiness that I’ve found.  However, I do not want to hear from him unless it is ABSOLUTELY necessary.  He finally found out I was re-married on a fluke and decided to text me and send me an email.  First off, I did not get the text and, from his subsequent email, is probably a good thing since he apologized for it and then went on to how “shocked” he was but was happy for me and would continue to pray for me.  In my previous life, I would have labored for hours over a response to this and explained and apologize for him being caught off guard, etc…  But not now.  I have given myself permission to cease caring about his feelings.  I am no longer his wife; he is no longer my husband.  I do not owe him anything and he does not ow me anything.  When two people divorce, unless there is something binding like a child, you are, for all intents and purposes, through with each other.  For my current marriages sake and for my own sanity, despite the fact I spent a decade with this person, I have to allow myself to not care about his life nor his family nor any part of our past life together.  And that’s hard!  I cared about some of his family.  I hope they are alright.  I hope they are happy.  But I can’t take up space in my life caring about them.  And I can’t continue to worry or care about what my ex-husband thinks about me, my choices or my current life.  Those need to be his feelings to manage now.

And the second person I need to give myself permission to not care is towards my husband’s ex-wife.  I think because of the circumstances of how my husband and I got together, I have a lot of guilt.  I have sought approval from her that I am never going to get.  I have put myself out there only to be hurt…and somewhat rightfully so.  She doesn’t owe me anything and I have no right to expect that she is going to respect me in any way.  And that’s ok.  I shouldn’t need that or even want that.  But because I am forever tied to her via my stepson, I’ve tried, in vein, to understand this other woman that is in my life.  But I really need to release myself from caring about her above and beyond the care I would give to any passerby in my life.  It is an exercise in futility and probably perceived as an invasion, if not inappropriate and crass, from her end.

Ah the tangled web we weave…  I just need to focus my emotional energy where it needs to go and that is towards my husband, my baby and then my stepson and other family and friends.  Those are the people that need my best.

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The Need To Be Heard Monday, Jun 9 2008

I wanted to repost an older post of mine I wrote back in July 2006 when I was absolutely at rock bottom and trying to process the thought of leaving my husband (and I did).  I’ve been rereading some of my old writing and this one struck me as still being so relevant to so many people and it continues to remind to listen to others.  People just need to be heard! (The husband referred to in this post is my ex-husband now.)

The Need To Be Heard

I have so much to say
But no voice to be heard
So all of my thoughts
Lie just under the surface
Bubbling and stewing
Just waiting for the opportunity
When I find myself
And I can finally scream out loud

It occurred to me that the need to be heard is probably one of the most fundamental needs a human can have. We need acknowledgement. We need someone to look at us. We need to know that others know we exist. We need to know that not only do others know we exist but that our existence means something.

I used to judge my husband’s mother a lot. She left my husband’s dad for several months and then decided to file for divorce. She left three children, however, getting custody after the divorce. I used to sit there and think, “How could a mother do that to her children? Was her life so bad? She’s so selfish!” One night though, I let her talk about that situation and I tried to listen with an open mind. I had heard plenty from my husband’s dad. I heard how he tried to get her to stay and think about the children, etc… He always found a way to not take responsibility for the situation and make it all about her. However, that night I listened to her. What she had to stay didn’t register with me until just recently as I’ve been acknowledging my own thought deficiencies.

Her problem boiled down to the fact that she felt she was no longer heard. And in fact, knowing my husband’s father, I would wager she was not. The one person she wanted most to support her as a person, support her goals, support her dreams, etc… was not listening. She had grown and changed as a person and wanted different things out of life than before. She no longer felt safe to become the person she felt was brewing inside. She felt stuck. She felt UNHEARD and therefore, unimportant and invalidated. That feeling can drive people to do really crazy things. She didn’t know what else to do so she left. She left to be heard. She left so she didn’t do the one thing that she had rolled around and that was ending her own life.

I look at my own situation right now and what I have been doing to myself and it really boils down to the same thing. I am not being heard. I feel like I am screaming and screaming. And everyone is just acting like nothing is wrong. I finally feel like I understand where my husband’s mom was coming from. Invalidation makes me feel like a caged animal. It must have made her the same way. Desperate. Asking “What do I have to do to get someone’s attention?” Her answer may have not been the best one, but when you are that desperate to feel “normal,” anything seems better than where the mind is at in the moment.

The need to be heard. The need to feel validated. The need to feel like you are free to be yourself. Yes, those needs are so important. Most importantly to feel all those things from the person who is supposed to love you more than anything. And the feeling of total rejection and emptiness one feels when that person doesn’t even acknowledge that there is so hurtful.

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Perspective Wednesday, May 21 2008

I was reading another blog this evening that struck a chord with me.  It is by a stepmom that has a biological child (or maybe children).  In one of her posts, she was explaining why she started the blog and it was to put the birth-mother in a compartment.  To have a place to write about frustrations regarding fragmented families, being a stepmom and dealing with the ex-wife/birth-mother.

I’ve mentioned before that I used to have another blog that I used to write about my eating disorder, what it did to my first marriage and ultimately deciding to leave that marriage.  It was called “Self-Therapy By Writing.”  I started this blog, now that I think about it, as a place to put all of my feelings about the marriage I chose.  A marriage, I will point out, that completes me in a way that I never knew possible.  Nonetheless though, this marriage comes with baggage that, at times, I have no idea how to handle.  So this is truly “Continued Self-Therapy by Writing.”

The other aspect I appreciated about the blog I was reading tonight was when it pointed out that another reason she started the blog was so she would not waste precious time with her husband discussing his ex-wife when that time should be spent more constructively.  I wish I knew how many countless hours my husband and I have wasted talking about his ex.  She domineers our conversation at times.  Granted, sometimes these discussions NEED to happen.  They can be constructive, especially when we are discussing our united front in dealing with her and their son.  But at times it is also extraneous, gratuitous and pointless.  While my marriage is most definitely full of joy, delight and the excitement that comes with discovering the person that I love more than anything on this planet, it is built very delicately and is constantly bombarded with issues that do not plague other families.  Such is the nature of our world now.

So I am joining this other step-mom in using this space to, in part, purge my feelings regarding subjects related to her. Ironically, I know she keeps a blog somewhere out there where she probably at times rants about me.  Ah, the tangled web we weave.

When I do post about divorce issues, step-parenting, parenting, etc… please feel free to leave respectful comments and suggestions. I’m new at all of this.  I’ll consider anything reasonable.

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Divorce is a curious thing Sunday, May 18 2008

My husband and I were discussing furniture accumulated during one marriage that is retained by one of the parties during the divorce and used later on possibly in a 2nd marriage. I brought a few things into my new marriage: a dining room set, porch furniture, art and knick-knacks as well as most of the kitchen gadgetry. He had his bed, bedroom furniture, family room furniture and then the point of contention…the baby furniture.

When I found out I was pregnant, after my panic attack, I quickly went into decorating mode. My husband had a nursery suite from his first son that was still in his possession. At the time of the divorce, his ex-wife opted not to take the furniture for their son due to lack of space. Before assuming its use, he checked with her again if she wanted it. She refused it. I did not want to use it, but relented for several reasons: 1) His ex-wife was not taking it for their son, 2) My husband attached great sentimental value to the furniture and wanted his other kids to use it since it was a gift from his parents, 3) He chose it, not his ex-wife, 4) We REALLY couldn’t afford to get new furniture. Even after my parents offered to get new furniture so I wouldn’t have to “deal with” the other furniture, I still agreed to use it because of reason #2 listed above. And I did like it. The wood was nice and neutral and could go with anything really. Given that though, I set about making everything else as different as possible though we were having a boy to erase some of the outpouring of emotions that I felt were permanently attached to the furniture.

Now that our son has been born, I’m realizing I’m still having difficulty with the furniture. I know enough about his ex-wife, though I’ve never met her in person, to know that she’s probably HATING the fact I’m using the furniture. Somehow, a long time ago, I swear some link was opened between our brains because I will get her thoughts and emotions at times out of nowhere. I know this is going on because I’ll start obsessing over something and then I’ll realize its because she’s angry about it and somehow transmitting it to me. It drives me nuts. (Note: She is a highly sensitive person that has some unusual abilities as well.)

Anyway, I’m going off on what this post was originally about when I started writing. We, as humans, associate memories with objects we come in contact with over a period of time. When two people divorce, all of the objects in their possession at the time of the divorce have memories embedded into each of them. These memories fade over time, but energy does linger.

Being especially sensitive to energy in the first place, I am driven crazy by the lingering energy. Case in point, I am not driven crazy by the bed I now occupy because the ex-wife had not used that as her bed for quite some time. However, the bedroom that is now the nursery drove me insane the first year after she was gone because that’s where she had slept (and fumed no doubt) during their separation and divorce (she lived there for almost a year separated). It took coats of paint, remodeling, and cleansing the room of negative energy to get out her residual energy. At one point, before I realized it was *her* lingering there, I thought there was a spirit lurking…no joke. I actually couldn’t go into that room for months after she left because of it. I’ll pick up other bits and pieces of her from other things around the house. I still avoid sitting in a section of our large sectional sofa because if I try to sit there, I get really negative. Come to find out, that bit of the sofa is where she always sat with her laptop spewing angry writing.

Of course my husband doesn’t get any of this… Well, he does in concept but not for himself. If he likes furniture, he likes the furniture. It has nothing to do with whether it came from my previous marriage or not. He doesn’t get other’s energy from objects.

In thinking about the things that went with my ex-husband, I’m bothered by a few of the things he has and if it would be used with a future girlfriend/wife. I am not bothered because I am jealous that she would be using it as his wife. Really. I hope my ex meets someone WONDERFUL that loves him in a way I never could and that he loves in a way he could never give to me. But things that my ex and I picked out together that was supposed to be part of our life together, like our bedroom dresser that he has, yes, I don’t want someone else using it. Most things though, like the sofa, etc…I could care less. If my husband’s ex-wife is indeed angry about me using the baby furniture, I sort of understand. I have no actual confirmation she is hating it, just a feeling. Logic would dictate that she is ok with it given that she did not take the furniture back when offered several times. However, my intuition is overruling logic. Anyway…

This post reads like a rambling mess. I was trying to get across two points: 1) Divorce divides supposedly inanimate objects between two people and those objects have emotional associations attached and 2) I pick up on residual memories at times and that is why I have a difficult time with some of the remaining things in my husband’s possession and things that are in my exes possession that I know will be used someday by someone else. So there. A one paragraph summary of the mess that took me a half hour to write.

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A poem Monday, May 12 2008

I kept a different blog when I was working through my eating disorder and the end of my marriage. I was reading over it the other day. I’ll probably post excerpts from it now and then. Anyway, I found a poem I had written during that time. Here it is:

Where we are is so far from where we’ve been
The relentless nature of life and all it’s done
And the weather we have not withstood
And the wall that has been built between

Starting with my arms open wide
Innocent and unassuming despite the fear
Your story to that point would be the undoing
Before we even had a chance to begin

Haunted by too many words said and actions done
Cold beginning to the time I began to die
Slowly in front of your face
You did not see behind my eyes

The façade I built and you accepted
Too afraid to lose the dream
Never wanting to admit the faults and lies
And that all was not as it seemed

I am awake yet my eyes are closed
Tight for fear you will see me cry
Vulnerability I can’t bring myself to share
Too much time has passed us by

Memories float as I drift off to sleep
Promises made inside my head
Dreams of all we could have been
Are now done and I’ve put to bed

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