Dailies
Tuesday, July 8, 2003
I couldn't go to work today; I was crying too much. I cried
for a while in the parking lot, then decided I'd better take the day
off. I didn't go home; I went to the library where I used the Internet
to e-mail in sick. Now I'm sitting by the window, looking at the creek,
reading and writing. I'm much better at the moment. Not crying, anyway.
I was crying because I can't overcome the faults that keep me from true happiness; because I love Joe and he doesn't love me, because I'll never be able to build the close spiritually-centered family I wanted, because I'm small and insignificant and don't matter to anybody, because I want so much for things to matter but nothing does, because life with Don is a struggle, because no one is strong enough to listen to me.
What I want is to be loved. I want is a small circle of people who love me. But I can't get it. I don't have the ability to get it.
I'm going crazy. Life means nothing. I'm going crazy because I do not speak the truth. I'm going crazy because I have to bear things alone.
Wednesday, July 9, 2003
I'm still going mad. There's nothing to live for anymore. I can't start a new
relationship with anyone because it would just be a repeat of my marriage
with Don -- criticism, despising me, refusal to be counted upon.
Here's a quote from The Hours: (speaking of an old hotel, which used to be nice because in days past . . .) "hopes were nutured here, that upon entering the lobby people were expected to feel as if they were moving in an orderly fashion into a future that held something worth having."
I wish I had a future like that -- one worth having. I don't see it from here. The future contains nothing worth having, only my father's death, Joe's death, my death.
I cannot keep the darkness away. I cannot be strong any longer.
No. I refuse to descend into madness. I won't go down that way. Somehow I must find hope. Somehow I must find love. I need a teacher. I need community. I ask the universe, I ask the infinite, for the things I need.
Thursday, July 10, 2003
Today was a pretty good day. I did get a little weepy but was able to overcome
it. I was happy mostly. I talked to Lorraine and my sister Regan on the
phone. I am happiest when I have talked to people. Talked to my dad, too,
about the Chewelah trip. I don't want to go this year. I want Don to go and
take the kids so I can be alone for a week. I never talk to Don anymore. There's
nothing to say to him. Joe didn't call. He said he would but he didn't. It's
the same as always. He doesn't need to talk to me, doesn't need to hear my
voice, doesn't want to get involved. Charity, you need to move on.
Weekend, July 11-13, 2003
I took Friday off and drove down to Albuquerque with Kendall to pick up Michaela.
It's a very long drive but was pleasant to spend the time with Kendall.
Michaela spent the week down in Albuquerque with her cousins, the oldest of whom is 10. Even though she's a lot older, she loves playing with them. I think she really likes being the older sister for a change. At home she's the youngest. All her life her sisters have been bigger and smarter and more capable than she. Down in Albuquerque she gets to be the biggest and smartest. She spent the night over at one of Rosalie's friends, whose mom later told me she was worshipped like a goddess by the younger girls.
I've been thinking of placing more trust in Divine Love that things will all work out, but am unsure if that makes any sense. 1) Is there such a thing as Divine Love and 2) Can one trust it to do what's best? After all, I turned from faith because of what Divine Love has done to me. It gave me Don, who has insulted me and hurt me and stopped supporting the family and whose eyes glaze over when I talk. Why should I go back to trusting Divine Love? Who holds God accountable?
Saturday was a nice day. Regan took us swimming at a friend's beautiful hacienda, composed of several impressive adobe houses and a garden they made bloom in the midst of the desert. The pool is surrounded with a hedge of roses. Two of Regan's friends came too. I did my best to chat with them and fit in with the group, but I'm not very good at it and I've been getting worse lately. We all went out for an early dinner where another of Regan's friends joined us. I felt very much in the way. I'm sure Regan would rather have been visiting with her friends who she hasn't seen in a while than with me. I tried my best to be cheery and make conversation during swimming but I just couldn't do it during dinner. The tears came on again. Luckily baby Cathy was being fussy. I was able to leave the table and walk around with her.
It's going to be really hard for me when the girls are grown. I can be their mom but I don't think I can be their friend. They'll figure me out. They'll realize I have nothing to offer anybody. They won't be interested in me. They'll leave.
Monday, July 21, 2003
Lovely day. Went to Dad's in the evening, had sausages with Dad and Don. Made
a fruit cream tart in the medieval fashion.
Talked to Joe in the afternoon. He called and had time to talk. It was a wonderful talk, wonderful because it was long and about important things. I wish I was as beautiful as he is. He had been angry at me, he said, because I won't leave Don. I explained why: because I don't want the girls to come from a broken home. Because if I did they'd never see him at all. What about my happiness, he asked. Shouldn't I be modeling a good relationship for them? Don't I think they notice that things are not right between their father and me? Yes of course they notice. I wish I could give them the perfect home, a home with a loving father and mother, but there are things I can't model for them. They are going to have to forgive me for that. I cried a little. If he noticed, I hope he didn't mind.
Tuesday, July 22, 2003
Lovely day. SCA get together in the evening: pavilions, potluck, fighting
and socializing. Most of us in garb. I wore a simple flowing black dress
with a gold belt. I met a Spanish lady from Navarre and had a fun and interesting
talk with her. Note to self: memorize the provinces and read some Spanish
history, inc. Ornament of the World.
Afterward I went swimming at the Y. My purpose is to release endomorphins thru exercise, helping me to feel better and helping me cope with my strong feelings for Joe.
Friday, July 25, 2003
Joe finally told me the truth -- "I've misrepresented my position. .
. been grasping at straws . . . don't necessarily think we're compatible."
I wept a few tears but pep talked myself out of feeling blue. I feel foolish for feeling so strongly for so long, especially because his bad points make him a very poor choice for a partner.
The truth is, he's right. We're not compatible. I never want to do him from behind with a strapped-on dildo. I don't want to engage in wife-swapping. I don't want to be part of a menage a trois. So you see, with me he'd always be unhappy. In addition he's a complainer, a pothead, a smoker, unhappy with his job and his life, and can't get along with his bosses. He has had many sexual partners and has two children by two women. He's mildly bipolar, is on meds for depression and describes himself as passive/aggressive.
So why did I love him? Because he's smart and funny. He smiled when I smiled and turned pink when he saw me. Because he's adventurous and knowledgeable and uses words of three and four syllables. Because he said when he first met me it took his breath away. Because he said he would have come and talked to me more but couldn't due to the strength of his feeling. I loved him because I sensed a deep similarity between the two of us; I felt that in our depths we were exactly the same, so much so that if I called him by thought he'd hear me.
It was a wonderful experience, being rejected. I'm filled with admiration that he had the courage. I'm amazed at the truth revealed -- that rejection is sometimes necessary. Sometimes it's the best thing for all concerned, the kindest thing that can be done. It is truthful, it is honest, it is authentic. It snapped me to my senses.
I went to a medieval party in the evening. These are wonderful and great practice for me becoming more social. Kendall came too. She bid on and won a purse and an embroidered cloth so she was pretty happy.
Weekend, July 26-27, 2003
On Saturday I went to the school district surplus sale with Maria and Raul. We
all had a great time. I got some excellent books on the Middle Ages and a
coin book for Don that he really likes. I also painted the west wall of the
front room turquoise. It is a lovely color but I'm not happy with it. I think
I'll try a golden yellow. On Sunday I ice-skated, sewed a bit of garb and
had Maria over to see the wall. She really likes it. Rhiannon is at camp and
Michaela is in Minnesota so Kendall is an only child. It's lots of fun having
her.
I Thought You Loved Me More Than That; ExplodingDog.com