ended up back in the bed, and took a nap. I must have needed the sleep. I feel better now.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
in one of those moods
you know those moods, the ones where it's easiest to stay in bed all day, because it takes too much effort to get up and dressed. yeah, that's the mood I'm in today. I'm not being quite that self-indulgent, but I sure am thinking about it.
Friday, November 26, 2010
something's missing
It's cold enough here to have a fire, finally, so I do. I've already had a cup of hot cocoa, with a splash of something extra in it, so that it was an adult beverage. But as I sit here on the couch, in front of the fire, thinking about the glass of wine I'll probably go get in just a few minutes, something or rather someone, is missing.
It'd be a perfect night to share with my SO. I'm really looking forward to a time when we can share evenings like this together.
It'd be a perfect night to share with my SO. I'm really looking forward to a time when we can share evenings like this together.
I didn't sign up for this
Yet, this is where I am. While I could say that about most aspects of my life right about now, in particular I'm talking about being a single homeowner. Don't get me wrong. I'm glad I got the house. My kids need the stability, and it's a great asset to have, in the long run.
It's the short term that's not looking so pretty. The house is almost 20 years old, and there has not been a lot of maintenance done over the years. Of the projects that did get done, they were done with an eye on how cheaply they could get done. To be fair, some of that, particularly earlier on, was out of necessity. But for the last 5 years of my marriage, money should not have been an issue. As it turns out, it wasn't. The issue was that ex had checked out of the marriage, and had begun cheating, and wasn't invested in the house as "our home." So he had little, if any, desire to repair, replace or upgrade things around the house. Oh, we talked about it, and he made it sound like that's what he wanted. But as he told me, he was really good at telling me things he thought I wanted to hear.
So, this all brings me to a ever-growing list of things that will need to be done, repaired, and replaced around the house. There are some pretty big items on the list, too. Like the a/c and the fencing. Yesterday I realized I needed to add a new stove to the list. Well, move it up much closer to the top of the list, actually. It's been on my list for years. But as I was cooking the Thanksgiving meal yesterday, and moving the racks in the oven, I saw that there's some corrosion occurring inside the oven, and small pieces of the side wall were coming off. That can't be good. So replacing the oven has now become more important, if not urgent.
I was really hoping these types of expenditures could wait until I've found a job, and am more financially stable. But apparently appliances that are almost 20 years old don't agree.
It's the short term that's not looking so pretty. The house is almost 20 years old, and there has not been a lot of maintenance done over the years. Of the projects that did get done, they were done with an eye on how cheaply they could get done. To be fair, some of that, particularly earlier on, was out of necessity. But for the last 5 years of my marriage, money should not have been an issue. As it turns out, it wasn't. The issue was that ex had checked out of the marriage, and had begun cheating, and wasn't invested in the house as "our home." So he had little, if any, desire to repair, replace or upgrade things around the house. Oh, we talked about it, and he made it sound like that's what he wanted. But as he told me, he was really good at telling me things he thought I wanted to hear.
So, this all brings me to a ever-growing list of things that will need to be done, repaired, and replaced around the house. There are some pretty big items on the list, too. Like the a/c and the fencing. Yesterday I realized I needed to add a new stove to the list. Well, move it up much closer to the top of the list, actually. It's been on my list for years. But as I was cooking the Thanksgiving meal yesterday, and moving the racks in the oven, I saw that there's some corrosion occurring inside the oven, and small pieces of the side wall were coming off. That can't be good. So replacing the oven has now become more important, if not urgent.
I was really hoping these types of expenditures could wait until I've found a job, and am more financially stable. But apparently appliances that are almost 20 years old don't agree.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
counting down to 2011
It's hard to believe that in a little less than a month and a half, 2010 will be over. It's been a most interesting year - a year of healing, and of finding peace, joy and love again. There's been some hurt and pain in the mix, carry-overs from previous years, but overall the highs far outweigh the lows. I'm in a good place, one I didn't think I'd get to quite so soon.
Still, I find myself looking forward to 2011. I think it's the lure of all the potential and possibilities of the new year that appeals to me.
Wherever I am, and whomever I'm with, I plan on celebrating New Year's Eve the same way I did in 2009, by releasing the negative emotions I have so that I have room in my heart, soul and life for all the positives that await me.
One of the most valuable lesson I learned in 2010 is that there are great things for me, outside of my comfort zone. So I've decided that, instead of doing resolutions, which I never stick to
anyway, I'm going to come up with 12 things, one for each month of 2011,
that will challenge me to get out of my comfort zone. I don't know what those will be yet, but I'm looking forward to figuring that out.
Still, I find myself looking forward to 2011. I think it's the lure of all the potential and possibilities of the new year that appeals to me.
Wherever I am, and whomever I'm with, I plan on celebrating New Year's Eve the same way I did in 2009, by releasing the negative emotions I have so that I have room in my heart, soul and life for all the positives that await me.
One of the most valuable lesson I learned in 2010 is that there are great things for me, outside of my comfort zone. So I've decided that, instead of doing resolutions, which I never stick to
anyway, I'm going to come up with 12 things, one for each month of 2011,
that will challenge me to get out of my comfort zone. I don't know what those will be yet, but I'm looking forward to figuring that out.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
it needs to be repeated
Not that most cheaters or those they cheat with would think this about themselves, and only a few will see themselves in it after the devastation has occurred. But it takes a special kind of selfish person to knowingly and willfully inflict the pain and trauma of infidelity on the innocent. And whether they choose to believe it about themselves or not, this is the view from the other side.
“A Word About Adultery” by Bob Lonsberry
Adultery is the most selfish, destructive and hateful thing a person can do.
It’s funny what you don’t know going in.
Or what you choose to ignore.
And it’s tragic that you don’t realize until it’s too late, until
what’s done is done, how utterly wasted a life can be. How hopeless
hopeless can become. How the promise and joy of life can slip like water
through guilty hands.
Hell is merely realizing what you’ve done.
Mostly to others, but ultimately to yourself.
Hell is the flash of memory, snippets and snapshots of a happy
spouse, a newlywed or new mother, pleased and pledged, her future and
hopes tied to you. Her whole life in all its stages gambled on you. The
very nature, substance and quality of her life, through all its years,
depending on a promise you have casually or repeatedly broken.
How you can take an hour or a decade of selfishness and condemn
an innocent person to a lifetime of loneliness and disappointment.
How you can steal someone’s dream and leave it tattered and
stained, unrecognizable and unsalvageable. And not just any someone. The
one person who has given you more than any other. The only one who
truly understands you and cares about you, and who proved it by giving
herself to you. By having faith in you and supporting you. By taking
your name and taking your fate.
That’s the one you destroy.
It’s an emotional murder. The snuffing out of a life that should
have been lived. Not the stopping of a heart, but the breaking of a
heart.
Taking the “happily” out of “happily ever after.” It’s an emotional murder.
And that’s the hell.
For you because you deserve it, and for her because she doesn’t.
Then there are the children.
Innocents whose lives are forever and unfairly changed. Who have a
mommy and a daddy one day, but not the next. At least not in a real way.
Not in the way they are supposed to. No Christmases and family reunions
and weddings and graduations, no family nights around the dinner table
or the TV, it’s all just shattered and broken.
You’d kill someone who hurt your children a fraction of how badly
you’ve hurt them, and yet you’ve done it, and they tell you it’s OK but
you know it’s not and you’ve done it and you can’t run away from it and
Humpty Dumpty can’t be put back together again.
And children cry.
When they are young, and decades later when they are old.
The family died, and daddy did it.
That’s the hell.
Realizing that.
Realizing that you did that to them. That you have returned hate for love, betrayal for trust, evil for good.
You have broken the only promise you really had to keep. And in
the world of cause and effect they reap the harvest you have sown.
Adultery isn’t something you do with another person, it is something
you do to your family. To the hopes and lives of the only people who
will ever really matter to you.
It is a blind and hateful selfishness, a universe out of kilter,
an arrogance of priority and interest. You are all that matters, nothing
else counts, and you have everything backwards.
And it seals you off until you are alone and they don’t have you
even if you are in their midst. Ultimately you rot so much that it
collapses, the marriage and the family, and out you spin, not realizing a
fraction of what you’ve done and who you’ve hurt and what you’ve lost.
But it comes eventually. In the dark of the night, in the realizations of the soul, in the honesty of humility.
And you can’t think about what you’ve lost, because you’re too ashamed of what you’ve taken. Ashamed and anguished and wrong.
And that is hell. The realization of what you’ve done. Of who
you’ve hurt. Of the damage you’ve caused. Of the fact it’ll never go
away.
That is the lake of fire and brimstone.
You realize that life was a test. And you failed. You failed your family.
Adultery brings nothing but sorrow and pain. The likes of which words cannot communicate and imagination cannot conjure.
“Thou shalt not commit adultery” was not a restriction, it was a warning.
Which only fools fail to heed.
- by Bob Lonsberry © 2004
“A Word About Adultery” by Bob Lonsberry
Adultery is the most selfish, destructive and hateful thing a person can do.
It’s funny what you don’t know going in.
Or what you choose to ignore.
And it’s tragic that you don’t realize until it’s too late, until
what’s done is done, how utterly wasted a life can be. How hopeless
hopeless can become. How the promise and joy of life can slip like water
through guilty hands.
Hell is merely realizing what you’ve done.
Mostly to others, but ultimately to yourself.
Hell is the flash of memory, snippets and snapshots of a happy
spouse, a newlywed or new mother, pleased and pledged, her future and
hopes tied to you. Her whole life in all its stages gambled on you. The
very nature, substance and quality of her life, through all its years,
depending on a promise you have casually or repeatedly broken.
How you can take an hour or a decade of selfishness and condemn
an innocent person to a lifetime of loneliness and disappointment.
How you can steal someone’s dream and leave it tattered and
stained, unrecognizable and unsalvageable. And not just any someone. The
one person who has given you more than any other. The only one who
truly understands you and cares about you, and who proved it by giving
herself to you. By having faith in you and supporting you. By taking
your name and taking your fate.
That’s the one you destroy.
It’s an emotional murder. The snuffing out of a life that should
have been lived. Not the stopping of a heart, but the breaking of a
heart.
Taking the “happily” out of “happily ever after.” It’s an emotional murder.
And that’s the hell.
For you because you deserve it, and for her because she doesn’t.
Then there are the children.
Innocents whose lives are forever and unfairly changed. Who have a
mommy and a daddy one day, but not the next. At least not in a real way.
Not in the way they are supposed to. No Christmases and family reunions
and weddings and graduations, no family nights around the dinner table
or the TV, it’s all just shattered and broken.
You’d kill someone who hurt your children a fraction of how badly
you’ve hurt them, and yet you’ve done it, and they tell you it’s OK but
you know it’s not and you’ve done it and you can’t run away from it and
Humpty Dumpty can’t be put back together again.
And children cry.
When they are young, and decades later when they are old.
The family died, and daddy did it.
That’s the hell.
Realizing that.
Realizing that you did that to them. That you have returned hate for love, betrayal for trust, evil for good.
You have broken the only promise you really had to keep. And in
the world of cause and effect they reap the harvest you have sown.
Adultery isn’t something you do with another person, it is something
you do to your family. To the hopes and lives of the only people who
will ever really matter to you.
It is a blind and hateful selfishness, a universe out of kilter,
an arrogance of priority and interest. You are all that matters, nothing
else counts, and you have everything backwards.
And it seals you off until you are alone and they don’t have you
even if you are in their midst. Ultimately you rot so much that it
collapses, the marriage and the family, and out you spin, not realizing a
fraction of what you’ve done and who you’ve hurt and what you’ve lost.
But it comes eventually. In the dark of the night, in the realizations of the soul, in the honesty of humility.
And you can’t think about what you’ve lost, because you’re too ashamed of what you’ve taken. Ashamed and anguished and wrong.
And that is hell. The realization of what you’ve done. Of who
you’ve hurt. Of the damage you’ve caused. Of the fact it’ll never go
away.
That is the lake of fire and brimstone.
You realize that life was a test. And you failed. You failed your family.
Adultery brings nothing but sorrow and pain. The likes of which words cannot communicate and imagination cannot conjure.
“Thou shalt not commit adultery” was not a restriction, it was a warning.
Which only fools fail to heed.
- by Bob Lonsberry © 2004
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
too funny not to share
Came across these recently and thought they summed up things perfectly. Maybe it's something you have to be part of the club to truly appreciate, though. WH stands for wayward husband, or the cheater, and OW is well, the other woman.
Our Love Is Real
Our Love Is Real
Monday, November 1, 2010
no reserves left
My life isn't really all that strenuous, but it is and has been
incredibly stressful. It's taken a bigger toll on me than I thought. I had the misfortune of being sick yesterday, something that should have been a minor inconvenience, really. Yet it wiped me out. I'm still exhausted today, despite resting most of yesterday, sleeping 8 hours last night, and napping again today. Seriously, I'm ready for another nap.
It's scary to think what would happen if I got really sick. :(
incredibly stressful. It's taken a bigger toll on me than I thought. I had the misfortune of being sick yesterday, something that should have been a minor inconvenience, really. Yet it wiped me out. I'm still exhausted today, despite resting most of yesterday, sleeping 8 hours last night, and napping again today. Seriously, I'm ready for another nap.
It's scary to think what would happen if I got really sick. :(
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