Dark rum, diet coke
Diabetic dream, no carbs.
Squeeze a half lime in.
Now I want olives.
Stuffed with garlic, or bleu cheese
So I need some wine.
Van Morrison sings
There will be days like this one
It’s been a good day.
I just had one rum and coke. And a half glass of wine with the olives. 🙂
By Deborah E. Dayen
Pictures from Google Images
I walked with my cousin this morning, a short walk, just a couple of miles. The rain stopped, it was cloudy, and though it was very humid, it was cooler, not quite 80. It was a pleasant change. It’s was that way all day, til a short time ago.
We talk, deep and honest, always. I talked to her about moving, and when I talked about leaving my son in Denver, I started crying. Geezus.
The walk was nice, but I can’t even talk about that without losing it. I don’t know how I’m going to actually do it.
Then I went to the grocery store this afternoon. I ran into one of my best friends there. We have known each other 22 years, since our kids were 2 and in Story Hour at the library together. Her daughter and my son were born on the same day. My son is older, lol, by 3 hours. A fact he never let her daughter forget. She was part of our small book club.
She had just come home from a big family vacation to Ireland and England, with some side trips, one to Paris for a few days, I think. I had called her to see if she wanted to go for a walk about 3 or 4 weeks ago and she said, “Um…I’m in Ireland.” LOL. I said, “Oh, I guess you don’t want to go then…..” And laughed. We talked a little, texted a little.
So it was good to see her, and just catch up briefly. I told her I sold the house while she was gone, and she looked happy and sad in the same moment. We talked about it briefly, because she had an engagement she had to get to, but I choked up again, talking about taking son to CO. I am a basket case. I so wish he had a father. Or I should say, a father who wasn’t a sociopath. Anyway, we are going to try to get the book club together to say goodbye the week after next.
I truly can’t believe I’ll be out of here in 6 weeks. I’ve feel like I’ve been talking about it forever. It’s been so often, my final escape from so much drama in my life, from men who can’t love, or won’t, who have caused me so much pain. Men who have taken all I would give, and given me back nothing except pain, and heartache, and lies.
Now I look at it as just an awesome thing I get to do. I’m so over all of that. I think about it, and I think, the drama goes on, I’m sure. Just without me. Because, really….how could there ever be any trust there? Yeah, she lied, a small tiny lie to make him stop lying to her, to make him believe he’d been caught red-handed. I seriously only objected to it because she involved me, and it just wasn’t true. But really, he’s the one who cannot tell the truth. How could she ever ever trust her heart to him again? So much like my ex. Just cannot talk without trying to manipulate someone.
I feel like, she’s just in her comfort zone with him, and willing to put up with his bullshit. She was never going to talk to him again, twice now, til I did. So she did. What kind of foundation for a relationship is that? If I’d told him to come here that night 6 weeks ago when he asked me so many times….what would she have done then? Wanted him back? I was leaving anyway….who knows? Such a game they play.
Whatever. It’s none of my business. Sometimes I just go off on a tangent, it was part of my life way too long. I still feel connected to him on some level, it’s weird. But it doesn’t stop me from living this life. If we are connected through past lives, which I feels sure we are, we will bump into each other again. But this life time….I don’t think so.
The whole point, now, is….I get to retire. I don’t have to work, unless I want to. I intend to find a part-time job, grocery money. I get to live by the water, which has always been my other home. I get to do the things I love to do, that I have a passion for, and not spend the bulk of my time at a stressful job. I will be so free. As hard as it will be to say goodbye to my son, the fact that he’s not going to be living with me, makes me all the more free.
I didn’t do any packing today. Just normal house chores. Laundry, shopping, making some food so we’ll have food to eat during the week. Now I’m outside in the sacred space, lol. With a dark rum and diet coke and half a lime squeezed into it. Feeling pretty content. Sun is out, and it’s breezy. This mornings humidity is blowing away.
As are the last years tears, and pain, and drama. Blowing away, leaving cool, clean energy in it’s place. Life is so good.
Love and light, everyone.
For years I was such a bad sleeper. I guess that’s normal, living with a sociopath whose purpose in life was to create chaos in yours, and your sons. Never knowing what you might wake up to. Wondering if the earth would tilt on its axis by morning. I took over the counter sleep aids for years on end. Never went to bed without some sort of help, and often, they didn’t help. I’ve taken 4 Tylenol PM and not gone to sleep.
I often wonder if I did any damage to my body all those years. I figure not sleeping probably would have done more.
Since I moved out of that house, it’s been rare that I take anything. It took some time to wean myself off of the fear of not sleeping. I wasn’t physically addicted to the sleep aids, but I had a lot of fear of not sleeping at all, and having to go to work and be functional the next day. Now, I know if I don’t sleep one night, I will sleep the next. So I don’t generally take them.
Last summer though, when the carpal tunnel was really bad, I got prescription Ambien which helped me to sleep through some of the pain. That particular ailment gives you the most pain when you are sleeping. I’d have to get up multiple times during the night to run my hand under warm water, to relieve the throbbing. The Ambien got it down to just once usually.
As soon as I was through the surgery and the carpal tunnel was no longer an issue, I found out about Betty Boop. Which sent me into another tailspin, in which heartbreak combines with trust issues, mostly, not trusting myself. After all, there were myriad flags flying, and I chose to believe the obvious lies I was being told, and not to see the truth that had been slapping me in the face all summer trying to wake me up.
If you follow my blog, you know that relationship did not end there. You know that he tried to keep me in the periphery of his life, that he could not let me go, even though he’d chosen her. He continued to break my heart on a regular basis until really, about 6 weeks ago, when he asked to come see me after leaving me about a dozen voice mails and I finally talked to him and said, no. No, we aren’t going there again.
I reclaimed myself.
I have not talked to him since. I had some short communications with Betty Boop, but then blocked her so I won’t even see another email from her. She made up a lie, for her own benefit, telling him I’d done something I had not done. It wasn’t a big thing, but it just doesn’t sit well with me. She and he are welcome to play all the games they want, and feed each other the lies they need to hear, but leave me out of it. I’m not angry, I just can’t get drawn into that childish adolescent stuff again.
I realized last night that when I called him and left a voice mail just telling him that it was a lie, I’d unblocked him, and had not reblocked him. I reblocked him again last night. Again, not because I’m angry. Not because I have any bad feelings at all for him. But because I am moving on, I don’t want to be part of that little drama any longer. He loves the triangulation. He’ll have to find another 3rd leg to make her jealous with.
The point is….after I did it, I slept a solid 7 hours. I’ve done that a lot lately. Even with all the agita over the hot water heater, and trying to find a mover, and trying to train 2 people at work, I’ve been able to sleep. Because none of it is emotional. None of it makes me question who I am. I’m beginning to trust myself again.
Today I woke refreshed from a good night’s sleep. There is a very gentle rain falling outside, so I can’t sit out there, but I opened the slider to my deck to let the fresh air in, and listen to the peace of it. The stillness.
I am beginning to absorb, assimilate, that my dream of moving to Florida and retiring is manifesting. I guess there is always a ying yang with it, and the yang to that ying is that my son won’t be with me any longer. I know it’s time for him to fly on his own, I know he will love Colorado. I know it’s an adventure for him. I know I’ll still talk to him every day, and that our bond can never be broken.
But God, I will miss his chaotic energy in my life, his youthful exuberance, the plethora of friends and young people constantly running through my house.
I’ll get through it. I’m trying to just look forward to driving cross country with him. That will be a wonderful way to say goodbye to our old life.
I’ll keep the Ambien by my bed, for those few nights when it’s hard.
The rest of the time, I’ll just sleep. I’ll have my life back, completely. There will be no triggers down there to remind me of what I thought I had, and didn’t, nothing to remind me of all the pain I endured. I will just enjoy the fruits of my work to heal, and continue that process in my “Avalon”. My place of healing and new beginnings.
Love and light, all.
Summer rain falling.
Warm, gentle, peaceful raindrops.
Quenching the earth’s thirst.
By Deborah E. Dayen
Picture from Google Images
This short piece by the Beleaguered Servant, just made me laugh. I’m reblogging it for all of us who’ve known one, it’s so true. And check out his blog, https://notalentforcertainty.com He’s a wonderful poet!
People think it’s easy being a narcissist, but, there’s a lot more time involved than you’d think — I mean, every day, there are people’s dreams to belittle, and their pains and griefs to dismiss — meanwhile, keeping up a constant flow about just how unfair life is to me. Some of you couldn’t last five minutes having to be a real narcissist; under the pressure, you’d break down and start caring about other people in no time — losers.
I spent the day sorting through “stuff”. My basement storage area, where the notorious hot water heater resides, is also the storage area. There are a few boxes of stuff in there that I didn’t even unpack when I moved in. Not that I didn’t want to, but I had no place to put the things. I thought at the time that I would get the rest of the money my ex owed me, and buy what I needed, but I never got it. And it’s a pipe dream now, I’ve let go of it. I’ll be lucky to ever get 5 cents on the dollar that he owes me.
So anyway, I wasn’t able to buy what I needed to put this stuff out, just nice knick-knacks and stuff. But it is what it is. I’ll find one in Florida at the great thrift stores. Anyway, I digress.
I found so many old memories in there. My wedding album, which I will hold onto for my son. The childhood album my mother put together for me. The album I put together of the early years with my ex. My son’s school papers. Omg, he had composition notebooks from 1st and 2nd grade, that he had to write in every day for a few months. They were soooo funny. And poignant. One in particular, “Vacation was fun. I played with my dad.” Proof that at one time his dad treated him like a person. I am gladdened by that, and saddened by their lack of relationship today.
I found a Mother’s Day card he made in school with his handprints. I’m keeping that one.
I found some old books that I loved. Khalil Gibran, a book I bought in college I think. Wally Lamb, who I had the pleasure of meeting. Paulo Coehlo.
I found what my mother called my “dowry.” LOL! It was a box of Beatles trading cards. Like baseball cards, but Beatles. I remember there were always about 4 or 5 you could never get, to have a complete set. But I will take them to FL and my friends who went through the Beatles phase with me when we were 13 will have fun with them. (Not that we ever left the Beatles phase, but my music horizons have surely expanded since I saw them when I was 13.)
I packed up a box of the albums, and Easter and Halloween decorations. One box done. I also made a HUGE pile for a dump run. I got the number of Gus, who does dump runs, from my friend last night. When I have the whole house cleaned out, I’ll call him.
Then I went up to my spare bedroom, better known as my ironing room. Because that’s all I do in it, is iron my clothes before I go to work. But there were lots of papers there. I was looking for the receipt for cleaning my furnace. I found the receipt for painting 2 rooms and refinishing my hardwood floor in the living room. I found the receipts to replace the skylights. I found the entire manual on my snow blower. The manual on my TV. Tax returns.
My divorce decision. My Supreme Court decision.
Everything except the receipt for my furnace cleaning, which I need. I’ll get a copy from them.
Then I went through the clothes hanging in that closet. Mostly winter clothes. I generally swap out the closets seasonally. Almost all of them are going to the Charities of Hope. I don’t, won’t, need winter clothes. That makes me happy. Then there were some older summer clothes, not many but some. They are too big for me now but nice. I’m going to take them if I have the room, and give them to my friend who had weight loss surgery. She’s already lost 40 lbs. By the time I see her she might fit into them.
I took a bag of trash out from that room. I have to figure out how to pack up all my jewelry stuff. It’s all up there too. And bags of shells, and small beach stones that I collected over the years. And shards of pottery worn smooth by the sea. I don’t know what I planned to do with them, but I like the way they feel in my hands.
Then I sat on the phone with a mover from NJ. Joisey. Lol. But she came in at the lowest price. She told me where to go to buy the boxes I need so that I won’t have to pay the movers 500% more. She gave me all kinds of helpful hints. And came in less than half of the guy who was here last Saturday. Because she tells me how to do the work myself, so it’s cheap. And she tells me their insurance is by law just liability. If I want additional insurance, I can buy it. But check with my homeowners insurance first. They may cover it.
So I liked her, I liked the fact that she told me all that. And sent me the link to the DOT site that rates movers.
Then I wrote. I wrote a bunch of stuff I didn’t publish. Mostly because I didn’t really like it, but I liked to get it out. Funny some of it didn’t seem important, once I wrote it out and left it for awhile. Came back, and it had done what it needed to. Without publication. The secret writings of LTLLW, LOL.
So now, I’m watching The Intern with Robert DeNiro and Anne Hathaway. Such a good movie. I’ve had 2 nice glasses of wine, and my son brought me home dinner. We ate together, we talked for a little while, just idle chit-chat. I will miss that so much when he’s gone. When I’m gone. When we’re both gone. God, I love that kid.
To top it off, I just found my favorite movie on. Eat Pray Love. I just thought about how I was so miserable in my marriage and ate, and gained weight as I became diabetic. Then I went into my pray phase, I’m now 40 lbs lighter than when I left my marriage. Next, is Florida. It’s going to be my LOVE phase. Sigh……..
Moved a little closer to the dream today. A little farther away from the nightmare. It’s all good. Feeling good. Happy.
Love and light, all.
Sorting memories
Do I keep this, throw that out?
Does it make me smile, now?
Pictures of days past.
Reflecting how I got here.
How did it happen?
Am I happy, now?
Is my life rich and full, now?
My spirit finds joy.
By Deborah E. Dayen
You all know I love Van Morrison. 🙂
Sitting in a stream
Of consciousness, I can yield.
The Universe smiles.
This is a Stream of Consciousness Saturday post. The writing prompt this week is “Art”. for more information on this fun writing prompt, see https://lindaghill.com/2016/07/29/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-july-3016/. Linda Hill has a great blog, and great ideas for writing prompts. This is my second attempt at her SoCS.
ART
A picture was painted this morning
By the artist-at-large
In this world.
It is a sensory work of art,
the green of the leaves on the trees,
The blue of the sky
the scent of lavender,
the cool, almost imperceptible breeze,
rustling the leaves,
gently caressing my body.
The rich cup of coffee in front of me.
The sound of birds singing,
Neighbors dogs barking
And oddly the sound of cars on the road in the far distance.
I try to recreate the painting
With my words.
I try to make the reader feel it,
Because it seems too fabulous not to share.
I suppose that is what art is, to me.
The sharing of our emotions in such a way
As to evoke a similar response
Or a response at all,
From someone else.
I love art that makes me feel.
I love a book, or a post, or a movie, or a painting,
Or a piece of jewelry or pottery or a poem
That can make me cry, or laugh hysterically.
I want to feel.
Feeling lets me know I’m alive.
Art lets me know I’m alive,
When it makes me feel.
Inspires me to feel.
I hope that I also do that
In some small way
With my art.
With my writing,
Or my jewelry.
I hope it inspires people to feel.
Mostly to feel good.
To broaden their perspective,
To lift their gaze.
Or, just leaves someone a little happier for having run across it.
Art, is, it seems,
A wonderful way to extend love in this world.
Yesterday was a day from hell, at work. Friday is always the hardest day at my job, and I’m training two new people, and it just got crazy. At the end of the day my boss called me and one of my new people out for not responding to an email earlier in the week. Now, yeah, we should have. The thing is, we get about 400 emails a day that we have to sift through. This one I saw, and planned to responod to but in the craziness of training 2 new people, I let it go. It was not a big deal. I had it on my desk Friday to show the new person what we needed to do with it. But bosses big brother, who is a complete control freak, jumped in and made a mountain out of a mole hill. When I got called into my bosses office, exhausted, after working 45 hours last week, full tilt boogie, I came very close to saying, “you know I have one foot out the door already……” I did not, because of the new girl who I could see was totally blindsided and taken aback. But when I left work I was wondering how I would make it 4 more weeks there.
You know, I like the job, when I’m just doing my job. But to have me training 2 new people, one at a job that I only backed up at, and never did on a full time basis, and bitch at me about one email that was not even urgent…I mean, how thin can he spread me and still ask me for complete competence like he’s used to? GRRRR.
Anyway, on the way home, I called my friend who is also moving, and bitched to her about my inspection and she bitched back to me about hers, and how people want to just empty your pockets out into theirs. We ended up laughing with each other, and went out for a drink and some fried calamari. Three single guys were sitting at the bar next to us, being a little raucous, but funny. About our age, probably closer to hers than mine. But they ended up engaging us in conversation, it was fun, and just a wee bit flirty. They told us about a band playing across the street from where we were on later this month, a well known country artist. The venue is outdoors under a roof, on the banks of the Connecticut River, next door to a 200 year old opera house. We may try to go. They kept saying they hoped they’d see us there. They were joking about how it could be my send off to Florida.
i
I came home all relaxed. I only had one glass of wine, and I slept like a baby for 7 hours.
This morning, I came out side at 6 AM, and felt so refreshed. It is a lovely morning. A friend wanted me to go to the beach but I am going to begin my sorting and packing today. Just can’t do it.
I told my realtor to offer the buyers $1000 and the couch and loveseat in my basement, and my snow blower. Then they can do all the inspections they want. She seemed to think that it was fair. I haven’t heard back yet. I just so need to be done with this.
Feeling good about it all this morning. I did my morning meditation and had the sensation of floating down a clear stream, in which the water was warm, and luxuriating in it. Soon I’ll be in my “Avalon” and all the stress of the last year will just be a memory. And most likely, not all that important. Every day I feel myself finding a new, lovely path in life.
Love and light, all.
learningtolivelikewaterblog.com 
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