Some point in “time”

(I’ll be referring to my ex as “The Mosquito” or “TM” henceforth because mosquitoes are blood sucking pests with no direct benefit to humankind.)

I’ve decided that Sundays are for pancakes and listening to music. This week, Holiday music obviously.

I’m supposed to go to the old house to pick up some things. The Mosquito remains difficult. Now he says he won’t see Little Guy until after Christmas so he can see his relatives. I said that’s fine and I get why he’s isolating (relative is immunocompromised) but not including Little Guy in that plan is unfortunate. The exchanges are always civil. Unreasonable, but civil. So I’ll be thankful for the small things today.

It’s a nice day out so I’m hoping to get back outside again. LG and I took a nice walk and he went to the playground this morning before pancakes. I have to go down to the house and pick up some more things. Some deliveries. A curling iron. My plants. TM’s been very clear about which plants he’ll be taking, but not about his kid. Sure sure.

I’m not sure where Ginger the ginger plant will live, but I’ll find a place for her.

Last night I had a wee bout of loneliness. My typical nightly ritual is watching Impractical Jokers while eating snacks and then watching the Golden Girls before going to sleep. I was annoyed with myself for making chocolate chip cookies at 10:30pm. Onscreen on Impractical Jokers, a bunch of middle aged ladies who looked… well worn… terrified me. Here I was with chips and cookies and single and 43 and what the fuck.

I started to become scared that I’ll just be alone forever. But a weird thing happened. The more I thought about it, the more I realized I didn’t care. Companionship would be nice, but I am in no position to take care of another adult baby. Funny how the thought of a companion taking care of me hasn’t even come close to crossing my mind. I’m old enough to know better.

But yeah. I’ve got the Quarantine 15 and some self-pity on top of that as we’re coasting in to the sedentary season of Winter. I do like winter hikes. I guess this is the year I finally do some. Perfect for a single mom with an 8 year old and a dog. (Maybe not the dog… she is extremely lazy.)

Last year I addressed my drinking. Maybe this year I address my self-esteem.


My sleep has improved but now I’m a walking histamine. I discovered the cat had been napping in my closet, specifically in my pajama drawer. So I had to re-wash everything. I’m sure I dragged all that cat hair into the bed too. Ugh. We leave for vacation in 2 days so I’m just focusing on that.

I went back to therapy on Tuesday. It had been a couple of years but it was nice to be back. I really like my therapist. She remembered and reminded me that a lot of what I’m dealing with right now is the same as when I was there 2 years ago. She also reminded me that the previous cycle of frustration was about 2 years before that.

I have a big problem taking risks and walking toward the unknown. Fear has been driving the ship my whole life. Bravery pops up every now and then… but man, has it gotten lazy.

My therapist suggests that the frustration and resentment in my marriage is the main cause of my malaise. I agree to a point that it is a factor but I think there are several arms. She says my head and my heart are completely disconnected and we need to find a way to get them to work together.

At a high level, I know exactly what the problems are and I can tell you really self-aware and self-assured solutions. But my feelings are basically a knot that hasn’t been untied in 40 years and they kind of get involved and tangle everything up. We need to work on the flow. The flow. I picked flow as my “word of the year” a couple of years ago. It’s an important word to me. Who knew I didn’t have any?!

It’s funny because I always thought of myself as someone who was pretty emotionally sophisticated. But in actuality, my relationship with feelings is way more cerebral. I can break it down and label it and file away and it’s great. But my OWN feelings are so screwed up from shoving them all into an unlabeled box that I can’t even tell you, honestly, how I am feeling at any given moment. This was a HUGE eye opener for me.

So my “homework” is work on some art art focusing on fear, bravery, and potential.

There’s a good chance I’ll delete this. I just need to work through some feelings for a minute.

I was approved for adoption of this beautiful little dog who sounds like a perfect fit for my family. My husband turned around and outright refuses to get on board. He essentially said that I’m “not allowed”. He is bossy and controlling and I’m generally able to just roll my eyes and do what I need to do. But then he makes threats. He said he would return the dog to make sure I wasn’t able to adopt from them again.

He also said I’m getting a dog to “replace (my) son again.” And that I barely pay attention to our son. All of this is completely insane and just really mean and hurtful shit. I can’t even look at him.

When he gets like this I immediately go straight to thinking about divorce. It’s happened before when he has gotten outlandish like this. I moved out for 3 months several years ago. I had an attorney on standby 2 years ago. And now this. Yes, I do see the pattern. I’m fully aware that this relationship has really bipolar cycles.

In addition to this, I pay our mortgage, phones, utilities, and insurances. He does grocery shopping and while it’s a lot, it doesn’t come close. I work a full time and a part time job (music). He works when he gets work. Generally part time. Sometimes, no time. I’ve seen him try a few careers and quit them. I’ve been steadily employed promoted throughout our relationship.

Now… he does stay home with our son a lot. He picks him up from camp or school, brings him to his after school stuff. And that is a big thing. Despite being home most of the time, he rarely cleans the house and then kind of sideeyes me about it. Like it’s my responsibility.

I work on nights sometimes and I typically have one night out with friends a week. He does not enjoy socializing. I’ve tried to encourage him to socialize and he does not do it. He does however throw back in my face that I’m out too much. Drinking too much. The drinking part is not off base. I need to reel that in. But I’m still going to socialize.

He knows what hurts me. Criticizing me as a mother mainly. Criticizing my really base values. Making sure I know not to get too confident or proud. Meanwhile, I literally subsidize his life and he is trying to exert control over me. I get it. It is a way for him to feel more powerful maybe. But I am caught smack in the middle of enraged and deeply wounded.