A Friend Request

Scott now wants to be friends on FB. We have never been friends on FB. It has certainly been his demise. It’s how I found out who Betty was, where she worked, that he was with her too when I thought he was only with me.  (And she thought he was only with her.)

Apparently it’s over with her if he is willing for me to be seen in his friends list. Wow, lucky me.  That has always been a temporary situation anyway.

All I can say is, NO. He is offering up sloppy seconds to me, again. I don’t want them. He apparently does not realize that if he were my FB friend, my son and all my friends would see it. All the people who had to watch as he reduced me to a pile of mush, and played with me, and used me. The same people who told me over and over who he was and to leave him alone. The last time I told my son that I thought he might come to our house in CT, uninvited, my son said, “Just saying Mom, if he shows up in our driveway, I will walk over to his car and punch him in the face.” He was not kidding. I told him, “no, I’ll deal with it.” He said, “Just saying Mom. That’s what I’m gonna do.”

My son is the one who had to see me reduced to a slobbering pile of sobbing mess after he did the prison whore. He also had to watch me then again, 9 months later, when I got the text that instead of us being together for the weekend, he was going to be with “someone else” (Betty) and that he was “busy and didn’t want to talk about it.”

When I saw Scott a year ago, after Betty had found out about me, my son said, “What the FUCK is the matter with you Mom? This guy made you cry more than my dad did.”

And still I talked to Scott through the move down here, on the phone, even though he was still officially with Betty, though I haven’t seen him in over a year. Until a couple months ago, when I just got so sick of the games he plays. The disappearing act he pulls, and then comes back as if it never happened. I just got so tired of being messed with.

And now he wants to be FB friends.

He had never been a friend. He has been my lover and my adversary. He has been my teacher of hard lessons, he has been a soulful connection. But he was never a friend to me. I was one to him. Every dark day that I knew about, I tried to help him. When she found out about me, and left him, (temporarily…but that’s another story) I was there for him. I loved him so dearly, more than I ever thought possible. And he used that love to bolster his own ego. To take what he could from me. And give back nothing, nothing permanent, nothing that lasts. We could easily have stayed friends. But he chose not to.

And so we are not. Not on FB, not in life. Not in any way. When I hear from him now, I feel dread, I feel a foreboding. Feel like the darkness is knocking on my door again. Do I love him, yes….always. Can I have any semblance of him in my life? Absolutely not, at least, not the way he is.

We can all change. It is hard hard work, to change and grow. If at some point he was able to convince me, look me in the eye, and tell me what he’s done, what inner work he’s done to change from being an egocentric, selfish man to someone who actually can be a friend, I might listen. I might then open the door. If he could actually apologize to me, and to my son, for his shoddy treatment of me, I might listen. But it would have to be heartfelt, sincere. I am good with words. I am intuitive. I would know the difference. He will say he has apologized to me enough. But what good is an apology when the behavior continues, unabated?

When I went through my divorce, I didn’t date for 5 or 6 years. I went inside, I learned to go deep, I learned to look at myself and forgive myself, but that also implies that I changed. And I did. I’m not angry with Scott (or my ex for that matter). I am just saying that I can’t have in my life what he has brought to it for 2 years now. (The first year, up until he did the prison whore was good with him, even after that, it was good. Then came Betty.) I have joked that he should go to the monastery for 6 months, like he often said he was going to. It’s a journey he has to take by himself. Even if I was inclined to help him, I would not. There is never real growth without real pain. There is help…but you have to seek it out. And not seek it from me. Not look to have the gaping wounds once again soothed by me so life can go on the way it has for decades.

So, I write this knowing he will read it. I don’t want to open the doors of communication with him, because it’s not safe for me. I know that somewhere inside there, I still love him as I always did, and that I would just be hurt again. I need to heal, I need distance, emotional distance to match the now physical distance I have purposefully put between us. He needs to heal too, and see himself. And acknowledge his soul and his spirit and stop feeding his ego, which is doing a good job of killing him, and hurting everyone who loves him. When he does that, when he can realize that he too is a child of God, as deserving as all of us, he’ll be able to love himself, and forgive himself, and then he’ll have something to offer the people he wants in his life.

I wish him Godspeed on that journey should he choose to undertake it.

Love and light, everyone.

Making Sense of My 3 Days of Booming Stats

The other day I mentioned that I had a lot of views on my blog. It went on for 3 days. Sunday 174, Monday 187, today 179. A total of 540 in 3 days, about double my average. It stopped last night late. I went to bed and had about 130 hits, and this morning 140 when I woke up. The rest of the day, the number per hour was normal, so I think whoever it was was done when they went to bed late last night.

People who read my blog regularly know who I think it was. One of two people. Maybe not. I could be wrong.  However, if it’s a new reader who is reading all those blogs, they would normally at least “like” some of them, to let you know that’s why they were reading so many. My “likes” did not increase with the number of views, they were normal.  The views per visitor went from a normal of about 2.5 to 3, up to 11 at one point.

So, I was a little creeped out at first. Wondering why suddenly there was such an interest in what I wrote. Felt like I was being stalked. But as it went on, I realized that someone, anyone, wanting to read my blogs need not creep me out. Someone was searching for answers. I was just recording my life, and my feelings.  After all, it’s a public blog for public consumption.  I mean, we’d all like to have our stats suddenly doubled every day, right?  That’s why we publish our words, and don’t write them out and stick them in a drawer or file them in an anonymous folder on our computers.

I think we all read blogs to share others lives, to learn from others experiences. I know I do. Why would this be any different? Sometimes we all get stuck, can’t figure out what’s happening. We search, wherever we can, to find the answers.  Someone had questions they thought perhaps my blogs could answer.

So, who knows, maybe the answers were given, maybe they were not. I’ll never know. It’s not important to me on a personal level. I write for myself. For no one else. I know sometimes it seems I did, do, but it has always been for me, a way to express myself, to release my concerns, my pain, or my joy to the universe. If a side effect was that my blogs affect others, it’s collateral effect. But never a main one.  And generally, if  a blog helps someone move in a positive direction, then I am happy to have played that role.  When someone comments that they could relate, or learned something, or found a new way to look at a problem, through my words, it is a satisfying collateral effect.

I hope whoever read these many blogs got the answers they wanted, and can go on with their life. Or lives. I hope, if the answers they needed were contained in my blogs, that these answers got where they were needed, and that the end of an era is at hand in my life. And maybe theirs, if I’m right about who the reader(s) were.

My life has been full of drama for almost 2 years. I am so sick of the drama. I’m sick to death of the games that have been played to keep the drama going. It’s addicting, really, that adrenaline rush of drama. Many of you know that. But then at some point, when you are free of it, life becomes so beautiful, without the stress of drama, and the games people play with others lives. That’s where I’m at. I have a rich, full, beautiful life. I have put an end to any drama, and the games, in my life.

Maybe my words in those 540 blogs that were read helped someone else to do that, to end the drama in their lives. I hope that is the result. Even if I’m totally wrong about who read them, I hope that whoever did read them found what they needed to find.

I hope this blog is an end to all of this. I’m moving on, I’ve tried to make that clear. I have no ill will toward anyone, and I really hope that my stats doubling for 3 days gave someone some information, some answers that they needed.  And I want to thank them, for making my blog look good statistically, lol.

Peace out, love and light.

Just Wondering

This morning for some reason, when I was making my coffee, I wondered if my ex ever thinks about the times he would rage, and break dishes, and throw food all over the floor, and walk away from it, leaving me crying, scared and having to clean up. I wonder if he remembers ever, when he broke our whole set of 12 Norman Rockwell plates, which we’d purchased at $40 each from Franklin Mint. I wonder if he thinks about what he put me through ever. Or if he just pretends it never happened. I wonder if he ever regrets making us drive hours to and from my son’s hockey games, the whole time verbally assaulting my son.

I’d like to think he does, and regrets all the things he did to me and my son. But, I don’t think so. Most people would feel so bad, once they realized how out of control they had become, and how much they’d hurt people that loved them, that they’d have to make at least an effort to apologize. He’s never apologized to me, except once. He had started a fight with me the day before I was scheduled to have labor induced for my son. Big fight, almost physical, yelling, stomping. I went to my sister-in-laws house for the night and she came with me to the hospital, not him. He finally showed up at the hospital after I’d been in labor all day because his sister shamed him into it. After my son was born by c-section in the middle of the night, he apologized. It was the only time in our 40 years together.

Even S repeatedly apologized for what he did to me. Of course, it didn’t change him, so the apology was only sincere in the moment. But at least there was a moment when he could see what he’d done. And of course, then he went on to spew lies about me to his girlfriend,and tell her intimate things about us, which was very painful for me. Having to listen to the lies come out of her mouth and having him back them up was heartbreaking. But he knew it was wrong. He knew he was doing it to make her secure.

I have forgiven them both for all of it. Their own behavior is something they have to live with. My heart, my psyche has healed from it all. It was all a good lesson for me. One drawback to growing up in a loving family is that you are unaware that there are people out there who would do those things. The reason they do them is because of a flaw they perceive in themselves, not in you. But a loving family of origin also gives you a base of love to fall back on, a way to find your own worth again, and allows you to move forward. I was blessed beyond words to have that.

It’s coincidental, (if you believe in coincidences) that when I came out on the deck this morning in the still dark, and opened my email, the first one I clicked on, by mistake (I actually wanted to open the email above this one), was an email from the Daily Om. It was a lesson from the book A Course In Miracles about forgiveness, and how it is really our only function.

I’m an Aries, and one of my traits is I cannot hold a grudge. For me to be angry for a week over something is really stretching it. Luckily, I am also aggressive and persistent, and know what’s good for me and what’s not. Although with both the men I’ve loved, I accepted the bad behavior for far too long, and kept them in my life far too long. Even if it was just on the periphery. I can still say I love them both, which is important for me, not to hate those I loved intensely. I feel sorry for my ex, because even if he doesn’t face it consciously, he lives a life that demonstrates the effects his behavior had on him, being broke and all alone, and having no relationship with his son. S—I don’t know what effect his behavior has had on him because we don’t talk.  He’s disappeared. But I feel for him anyway, because the games he plays over and over keep away the people who love him.

It’s been a weird morning, thinking about this stuff. Funny what bubbles up. Maybe it’s because I had a date last night with a man who doesn’t seem to be a game player, or manipulative, or controlling. But I can’t say for sure yet, I’ll have to get to know him better to know that. But I think maybe it’s the contrast between him and my old loves that brought this stuff around this morning.

Anyway, it promises to be an extraordinary day today. It was 63 when I came out on the deck before the sunrise. It’s going to get up in the 80’s. People are saying it’s unusual to be so warm in December. I’m more than happy about it. I might be able to wear shorts to the artwalk tonight.

Love and light, everyone.

Tumbling

  1. Crashing waves.gif

I rode the wave
Into the shore,
Thinking it might be fun
To let it have it’s way with me.
I tumbled as it broke
With a violent effort
It tried to break me.

Over and over
I tumbled
Tangled in the chaotic froth,
Lifted to the surface,
Driven down again
To scrape the bottom.

Just as I thought it would own me,
The wave receded
It left me on the shore,
Breathless and dizzy
Naked and scared
Sand-scuffed and bruised.

Laying face down
Hair matted with grit
I breathed and
I rose.
I stepped back from the edge
And watched.

The wave kept coming back
Washing up on shore
Trying to convince me
It had changed it’s ways
That the ride would now be gentle
And pleasant,
As it tried to grab my ankles
To pull me under its spell again
And toy with my life.

But the power was mine now.
I could dance on the edge
Or run from the madness
Of the breaking wave.

There will be other victims
Who think it might be fun
To roll with the wave.
Until they get sick of being left
Face down in the dirt.

The wave will retreat.
It may regroup
Come charging back into the shore
In a mad show of power.
I’ll be gone.
I’ll be gone.

By Deborah E. Dayen

How Retirement Has Changed Me, So Far

I’ve said I don’t really know what retirement is like, because my life has been anything but a normal routine since I retired. Moving my son, packing my house, moving myself, trying to get the house in the shape I want it to be, and then of course totaling my car. None of that encourages a normal life, lol.

But there are some changes I can see.

1. I’m eating much more healthy, without all the snacks in the house that my son wanted around.
2. In conjunction with that, I find myself going to the store more often for food, and buying less, just what I think I’ll need for the next few days. I used to go once a week, and fill the pantry and refrigerator. Because I worked, and I didn’t want to have to stop on the way home during the week.
3. I drive way, way more slowly and cautiously. I don’t know quite what that’s a function of. It is a combination, I think, of not being in a hurry, not knowing the roads so having to depend on GPS, just the laid back kind of life that seems prevalent here in my small little community. Back in CT, speed limits were kind of a suggestion, lol. I drove 80 mph to work every day in the fast lane and had people on my bumper that totally pissed me off. Here…I stay in the right or middle lanes usually, going the speed limit or just under. If I decide to get in the left hand lane, I have to make a concerted effort to keep up with the traffic. It’s weird. I’ve been speeding my whole life, and suddenly, feel no need.
4. This one is still in the process of manifesting, but I’ve always looked at the handmade jewelry in gift shops as being of better than mine, perhaps made by someone more serious about it than me. Now, here in this place full of creative driven people, I’ve received so many compliments on the things I wear, I’m beginning to think maybe my work is better than I thought. At least, that it could be sold alongside what I see in stores. I’ve also met many people who make their own jewelry, and for many, it’s just been a hobby as it is for me. So many, many stores and galleries will sell on consignment here. Not to mention the plethora of artwalks and craft fairs that have space available to rent for very reasonable prices. I have a space in my house designated for the creation of jewelry, though there’s nothing in it yet. I can’t wait to actually finish it off and spend parts of my day making new things.
5. I am going out more, to inexpensive venues, and don’t feel the need to even order a drink. I can have a glass of iced tea, and be quite happy listening to people sing in the balmy night air, just chatting with friends. It helps that the place I went last night and go to a couple times a week, has some really cool teas, like lavender lemon tea, or last nights, cherry cranberry hibiscus tea. So good. Though last night, I had two glasses of wine, lol. Celebrating getting my life back on track, having picked up my new car yesterday.
6. I am able to sleep later, when I stay out later. This is a huge one for me. I have always awakened early. Like between 5 and 6, usually right about 5:30. Even if I was out til midnight or later, I rarely slept past 6. Under normal circumstances, I still wake up around 5:30. However, after a night like last night where I didn’t get home til later and then wrote a blog, I have been able to wake up at 5:30 and go back to sleep until 7. I missed the sunrise, but I am rested. It’s a lovely thing to be able to sleep a little more.
7. I don’t drink as much coffee. Perhaps because I’m more rested. I have a cup in the morning, and sometimes make a 2nd, but often don’t finish it. Rather than 3 big cups a day. Just don’t need it. Still like it, but don’t need as much of it.

I will say my commitment to writing has not changed. Writing is something I am driven to do, so just keep doing it.

So, even though I couldn’t tell you what retirement is really like yet, I can see the differences in my life already. And I like them. I’m so glad I listened to the wisdom imparted to me when I was struggling with selling my old house so cheap. “You can always get more money. You can’t get more time.” So glad I did not wait to do this. So so glad.

Love and light, all.

Bus. Busy. Business. Omibus. Busted. Bush. Bushwacking

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This post was written for the Stream of Consciousness Saturday writing prompt, SoCS, hosted by Linda G. Hill.  If you go to this site, https://lindaghill.com/2016/09/23/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-sept-2416/  you will get all the info should you wish to contribute.

The prompt this week was “bus”, to use as a word itself, or contained in a word. This is my attempt.

Bus. Busy. Business. Omibus. Busted. Bush. Bushwacking.

It’s been busy, of late.
Driving across country
Not in a bus.
In a car
With my son,
With my friend.

Moving.
The story of why
is an omnibus.
The reasons are varied,
And somewhat unrelated.

It’s a great thing,
To be able to just pack up and move
When and where you want.

It’s a great thing,
The business of options.
Leaving behind memories
Memories that bust my heart
Wide open.

They are not so intense here.

At times I want to recreate them.
For a moment.
For the business of longing to be abated.

That bus carries more pain in it’s cargo.
The past can’t be resurrected.
It creates the present,
And the present is different.

Some memories
I brought with me,
I never want them lost.
I never want to have to go
Bushwacking to remember
How those things felt,
Or what caused them.

Happiness runs like a bus.
Careening through the streets
Of my life.
Showing me new paths
New directions.
A new way to live.
It’s a great thing,
To be free.

By Deborah E. Dayen

Leaving

leaving

Asking for strength
To get through the next days.
Friends buoy me,
Mark my channel.
Keep me centered
Grounded,
In the flow.

Looking back at my life
Here
for so many years.
Easy to have regrets
But I balk at regrets.
Lessons, not regrets.
Things I needed to learn
To grow my soul.

In the end,
I have loved,
much more than
I have hated.
I have laughed
More than I’ve cried.
Joy has filled
What pain tried to take away.

So young when I came here
Just legal age.
I leave 44 years later
The largest part of my life behind me.
At least, of this life.
Time for change,
For the next great adventure.

Love and light.

By Deborah E. Dayen

Picture from Google Images