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lisa & the kitties

Aftershock

It’s late and I should be sleeping. My sleep has been off lately. I have little energy to do things. It could be fatigue. It could be depression. I am not really sure. But that’s not what this post is about.

“Well, what inspires you?” I asked an old friend tonight. He responded and called me Lee. So familiar yet so unknown. It feels like our lives were entwined lifetimes ago. I’ve dreamt about him many times before. He doesn’t know. The internet said it could be that I miss a time when life was simpler. I think it’s true. So much has happened between now and then. My life seems surreal to me.

Before I got up to grab my laptop I was laying in bed looking at the ceiling for minutes. Tears started streaming down my face and I realized that if anyone would have been looking at me they would have thought me to be crazy. I think it’s good to cry. It’s good to still feel emotion, to analyze where you’re at in life. It means you’re present and aware. It could also mean I’m a hot mess. I think I’ll go with the former though.

A little over a year ago I laid in bed and cried. My mind visualizing terrible things. My heart asking questions I would never get the answers to. It amazes me that while things are different now, they are the same. When shit went down with the ex and people told me it would take time, I never believed it would take this long. Who knew that the effects would last this long? Don’t get me wrong, I feel as though I have handled the situation appropriately and for the most part I have healed; however, I do think these moments will stay with me forever. That kind of sucks.

Throw caution to the wind

“It is impossible to live without failing at something, unless you live so cautiously that you might as well not have lived at all – in which case, you fail by default.”
J.K. Rowling

I know I am too much

“You told me I was too much, and you were right: I was too much for us.

“For I know I am too much, and that is not too much. So I am not defeated. Rather I have lost something that was not enough: you did not want what I have to offer, which is all of me. If I am not what you would like you cannot be what I would like and so I cannot let go of us-we are already gone.”
Waylon Lewis, Things I Would Like to Do With You

You got me?

If you were worried ’bout where
I been or who I saw or
what club I went to with my homies
baby don’t worry you know that you got me.

-Jill Scott

I heard this song yesterday and was instantly reminded of how amazing this song is and how sensual it is for me.  At the same time it saddens me because I feel like this just doesn’t hold true anymore.

Consider me a tainted, bitter old woman but I just don’t believe that there are good dudes out there anymore.

It’s none of my business.

I’m sitting on the couch in my Mindy Lahiri jammies.  To be honest, I really should be wearing gym attire and doing some kind of physical activity right now, but I am a procrastinator.  I accept that part of me.

Before I get my day going I just wanted to have a little vent session.  Relationships are hard.  Interactions with other human beings are super hard.  Being oneself is hard.

Life. Is. Hard.

I’ve said this in the past and I know it to be true – I am not everyone’s cup of tea.  I get it.  Everyone is not mine.  I know it’s none of my business, but sometimes it’s hard not to wonder what is that someone doesn’t like about you.

I guess I just need to keep on keeping on and be my best, authentic self.  If people want to experience that, great.  If they don’t, their loss (in my humblest of opinions).

Have a great weekend folks.

Déjà vu

I remember it like it was yesterday. I was stationed at McChord and was living in the dorms. I had been there for a year, I was 22, single, and unhappy. In that year I had my fair share of hookups but no real relationships. I spent many nights alone in my room watching chick flicks, drinking whole bottles of wine, and crying myself to sleep because for whatever reason, I didn’t think I would ever meet someone. Then it happened. A spark between me and my now ex-husband.

Fast forward 12 years. Déjà vu. Kinda. I’m 34, single, and sometimes think I won’t meet someone again but that’s where the similarities end. To be totally honest, I haven’t been intimately involved with anyone since the split well over a year ago. I actually heard that you become a virgin again after a year. Is that medically possible? I digress. I’m happy but sometimes I get in my own head and worry. What if my time has come and gone? Will I ever be in a serious relationship again? How am I going to meet new people? Is anyone even interested in me? How the hell do these things even happen anyway?

Now, before I continue, this is not me professing how badly I want to be in a relationship. NOT. AT. ALL. I have been extremely grateful for this time alone to deal with what happened and rediscover who I am but sometimes I miss that connection and the fun. I’d like to believe I am confident person but maybe I am not because I sometimes find myself concerned with how men see me. Do they think I’m attractive? Do they think I’m interesting? Do they think I’m funny? Do they want to go out with me? Such silly things to be concerned with yet my interactions with others really make me consider those questions.

When I was that single 22 year old things felt so different. There was more interest. I still felt relevant and even though this is a bad thing, that attention made me feel desirable. Now, there’s just nothing. No looks or glances. No flirting. No nothing. I feel like I am constantly trying to be “not boring” so that someone might take an interest and talk to me a little more. It’s silly and exhausting. Before I go one I’d like to take this opportunity to also say I am not looking for compliments or validation from any of you. I just simply wanted to get this out there, off my chest, and out of my head.

So, moving on. I guess what this all boils down to is that I think I am ready to explore a little but I don’t feel like anyone wants to tag along. Kind of bruises the ole ego but just maybe, something will unexpectedly find me.

A tale of deceit and betrayal

It’s been 1 year and 1 month since it all ended. Most don’t know the details of how it all went down but I have decided to share my story. I am sharing it in hopes that it can help someone going through a similar situation because despite how it feels, life goes on.

After being stationed in Florida for 8 years where we had established friendships and lived less than 6 hours away from family, we moved to Utah, away from all of that. All we had was each other. Just 1 year and a couple of months later we moved again, this time to a remote location in Wyoming. We did it to improve his career; it was his turn (military couples know what I mean).

Things between my ex husband and I were slowly declining. We lived over 50 miles away from his work so his commute, along with retail hours, kept him away for the majority of the day. Wyoming was always meant to be temporary so I chose not to work while we lived there. I was lonely and unhappy. We didn’t spend much quality time together anymore. You probably think you know where this is headed, but you’re wrong.

At one point I mentioned how it seemed like we didn’t have much in common anymore. We talked about where to go from there and decided that we would work to make things better. A couple of days later he walked in the door after work and said he didn’t want to work on things. He didn’t think he wanted to be married anymore. This was in September, just 4 months shy of our 10-year anniversary. Things were rocky from there. Prior to this I have sought out support from the VA; I believed I was suffering from depression. Now I have even more to talk about. I pleaded with him to go to counseling with me. To at least try and work on us before throwing in the towel. He refused.

I took some time for me. Since my family lives in Europe, I went to Georgia and stayed with his mother. He wanted to be single so I wanted him to experience what it was like to be single. I was gone for 3 weeks. We barely talked. When I got back, he was so distant and uncooperative. Sometimes he just wouldn’t come home. He never wanted to talk about the situation. He just wanted to act like everything was okay. I left again. I went back to Georgia for a week.

When I returned I forced the conversation. He said he wanted to take a break. He said this wasn’t about anyone else. He just needed space to figure things out. I needed to work. I couldn’t stay cooped up in that house in the middle of nowhere by myself. We decided that I would temporarily move to Utah and work while we figured things out. In the beginning of December I was in Utah for a drill weekend. I had signed my lease a couple of days before and I was going to be temporarily relocating there a week later. He called me. He was hysterical. He couldn’t believe how stupid he was, how he didn’t put in the work to make our marriage better, and how he almost let me walk away. He told me to break the lease I just signed. He told me he’d move to Utah. I told him to calm down. That things would be okay. We’d see each other on the weekends – we have been apart so many times before being a military couple.

Things were on the up and up. He came down to see me for Christmas and again a week later for our 10-year anniversary. Early January I left for training in Texas and I was gone for 6 weeks. We talked daily. It was business as usual. A couple of days prior to me returning we got into an argument. He was avoiding me. He wouldn’t answer my calls or return my texts. On February 21, I flew back to Utah and decided to make the drive to Wyoming to see him and the kitties. I called him on my way there. No answer.

At around 8PM I pulled into our driveway. His truck was there. Our house at the time had large picture windows in the front. I could see Carla walking around, a friend of ours who was in town with her husband, visiting from Georgia. As I walked up the stairs I saw her. Not Carla. The girl who worked for my husband and who had unashamedly thrown herself all over him during a work event we hosted at our home 7 months prior. She was sitting on the couch. A glass of wine in her hand. My glass.

Shaking, I unlocked the door and walked in. He was in the kitchen, immediately to my left. He said, “Welcome home.” She did not turn to look at me, her gaze was fixated on the television. I looked at him and said, “You, get the fuck upstairs.” I looked at her, called her name and said, “Get the fuck out of my house.” She called his name. I said, “I don’t know why you’re saying his name. There’s nothing he can do for you. Get the fuck out of my house.” I walked upstairs. He was behind me.

On my nightstand was a framed picture of the two of them. Her makeup bag and birth control pills next two it. Her bag was on my bed, along with her lingerie. He just looked at me. I looked at him and said, “Really?” All he could say was, “What did you expect? You moved out.” HA! The nerve! I moved out? Yeah, because his punk ass had asked me to. I yelled. Said all kinds of mean shit to him. I picked up her birth control pills and started popping them out before he made his way towards me to grab them. I picked up the framed photo, threw it on the floor, and them stomped on it breaking the glass. He said, “What are you doing?” “What the fuck does it look like? I’m breaking it.” I lifted her lingerie off my bed and he grabbed it from my hands and put it in her bag.

I walked back downstairs and didn’t see that bitch. My office door was closed and the light visible under the door. I walked in and she was there, on the floor. I told her to get the fuck up and get out of my house. As they walked out the door I told them they were both going to get fired. Just like that, my marriage was over.

He refused to come back to the house while I was there. The next time I saw him in person was June, 4 months later.

I share this with you for a couple of reasons. The first is selfish. It makes me feel good to get it all out there. To share what happened. The second is to help someone else. After 10 years of marriage I never once considered my husband would have an affair. A child of divorce with a father who was a serial adulterer, he always despised cheaters. But it happened.

The road to recovery was long and it’s still ongoing. One year and 1 month later and I have still never been romantically involved with another person. I have used this time to rediscover myself and reconnect with people that matter. I have tried not to partake in unhealthy behaviors that simply mask the symptoms but there is still more to overcome. At times I feel as though I am healed and ready to move on, but there are reminders (anger, hate, jealousy, resentment) that there is still work to be done. Most days are good, but there are others where I still struggle with what happened and I sometimes find myself lacking the motivation I need to accomplish everyday tasks in life.

I just want you to know that whatever life hands you is surmountable, even if it doesn’t seem like it is at the time. It is up to you to believe you are stronger than whatever it is you are dealing with and to make healthy choices that will help you heal. Lastly, be patient. This whole thing takes time.

Grateful

As I walked through the Target parking lot this evening the crisp Utah air and breathtaking Wasatch Range made me feel that all was right in the world.  In my recent quest for better and more I realized my life is perfect for me just the way it is.

I live in, what is in my opinion, the most perfect city in the US.
I drive a car that at one time, I only wished I owned.
I have a job that challenges me (sometimes too much) and I enjoy the company of my coworkers.
I have amazing friends and family that have been there for me through thick and thin.
I have 3 furry creatures (Cooper has fur too) that long for my affection, love me unconditionally, and depend on me.
I have a strong, healthy body and hobbies that keep me moving.
I have it all.

I hope you find beauty and gratitude in all around you this weekend, and always.

xx

Passion

“Be careful what you’re good at, you could end up doing it for years.”
Danielle LaPorte

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