Another One of Those First World Problems

I feel complaining about insignificant things and labeling them “FWP” exonerates me from being a whiny spoiled person living in the best place in the world.  I’m also a jaded ex-catholic, so there is already a layer of guilt underneath everything I say and do.  

I want to post this for another reason.  With the hell I’ve been going through for the past year from medication side effects, divorce, being ostracized by my children and doing all of this in a delicate mental condition, I welcome superficial trivial problems. 

Here is one now:

Well, so far this is a very good day! I colored my hair this week from an online hair color boasting it is just like the professional color. I don’t know why I bother. The brown of my hair turned out beautifully but the white came out a light brownish reddish. Anyway……I used the last of my root concealer two days ago (forgot all about covering my roots on Tuesday and was out doing errands for four hours). Luckily I wasn’t aware so had all of the confidence of a good looking person. Back to my roots (pardon the pun) I was even debating wearing one of Allison’s hats to hit the Walgreens early before too many people were there to get a new can of concealer. In the bathroom I took one more last ditch effort, fingers crossed, to look in the bathroom closet.  There it was buried under cold medicine…..half a can!!!  Halejuha!

Dear Life:  please keep bringing on those kind of problems.  I really need a break.  xoxo

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Abused Patience Turns to Fury

So much anger.

I was feeling pretty strong against the ex-husband and his girlfriend yesterday morning.

He is trying to pass her off as his roommate.  No one knows what I know about how they were sleeping together a full 6 months before I asked for the divorce.  Even the children seem to have been fooled.  I can’t say anything to anyone because when it is all said and done I’m taking the high road as usual (not willingly believe me).  I Looking back at how outrageously (even for him) his behavior was during that time I believe I was manipulated (AGAIN) into asking for the divorce.

So I checked Facebook to see if I was truly able to handle it.

He was on her page with a selfie of themselves.  Under the comments was a comment from my mother in law saying “Just a couple of kids!”

I was so angry, hurt and other things I can’t even name that I went into a horrible spiral of depression and anxiety.  It was a pretty dark day.

I got up this morning and felt much better.  I tested the memory of yesterday to see if they still held their sting and they did.  Good news for me is not as painful. Then it dawned on me that checking Facebook was in essence breaking the No Contact rule!  That is the real key to recovery and now I have to start all over again! I had 4 whole weeks under my belt.

I’ve been doing EMDR for a whole host of things in the last few months.  When this woman moved into my old house with him I had to see my therapist twice a week for two weeks.  I have sooooo much more work to do.

I hate him.  I hate them.  I haven’t really been able to enjoy any of my freedom from him because he’s still getting to me but on a higher and different level.  When will this get better?  When can I finally feel better?

Its just like you when you try every trick in the book to lose weight and it always comes back to diet and exercise. Time heals all wounds.

Blocking all of them and taking the Facebook app of my phone is a good measure as well.

Beware of him that is slow to anger; for when it is long coming, it is the stronger when comes, and the longer kept. Abused patience turns to fury.

Francis Quarles

What an amazing concept..”No Contact”

days with no contact.  I just realized that tonight and had to tell someone!

I’m in my wonderful new condo with Allison. I’m on the road to recovery.

I’ve had enough time to recover from last weekend’s move where John was drunk and wouldn’t let me back in “his” house to retrieve my clothes.  I had left them until last so I could take them in my car.  Talk about “don’t let the door hit you on the way out” it did.

I had been using the phrase “kicked me out” when describing the situation to my sister.

She said, “Stop saying that!  You have a place to go, he “wouldn’t let you back in”.  “Kicked you out” makes you sound weak and not in control, but you are in control, you have a place to go. ”

No Contact.  The most intelligent piece of advice to a give to a victim trying to get out of a narcissistic abusive relationship.

Here is my list of the amazing things I’ve managed to accomplish without him undermining my every move:

I got a mortgage by myself.  He always made it sound impossible.

I found an amazing condo by myself.

I organized the move even though he said the U Haul wasn’t big enough (it was)!

Don’t forget the fact that after trying three times in the last 27 years, I managed to divorce him even though the experience has been worse than imagined.  He sent me to the bottom of the pit and clawed my way back out.

I’ve decided my new birthday is March 4th, 2017!

That Was Then….

That was then, this is now.

Stinging Tears   Crushed  Love to Hatred Turned  Another Horrible Crazy Christmas

It’s been a hard road, 27 years.

I made it through and out the other end, battered and bruised, but out.

Tonight I feel calm, peace, happiness, relief and maybe a little joy.

To be continued…….

Misguided Rage

What I realized this morning is that the rage I’d been waiting for wasn’t coming for me at all. John had to have some release, but he has too much too lose to rage against me at the moment because of the big D hanging above his head.

I knew it was coming. It didn’t dawn on me it could be for Tristan.  I can handle it, was even looking forward to it in a strange twisted way so I could finally move on. That’s what I figured I needed for the final “sayonara sucker”.

I was woken up at 11:30 last night to John showing me the texts he had been sending to Tristan that were going unanswered. I knew Tristan was at work until a 2 am doing inventory. I knew he had taken the old Subaru because he couldn’t find the keys to his car. John did not know any of this, until he showed me the ranting texts and I told him. Ten in a row about not believing he was at work, the car being stolen, going to call the police if he didn’t answer the texts. Oh, God, it went on and on. Nothing new.

He hasn’t been for the therapy yet. It’s been a week. I’ve got to come up with a time frame for this to happen before I give him the divorce papers.

He’s going to be home in a few hours. How do I act? I feel a bit sick.