Category Archives: relationships

dating diary, love, relationships, things that make me sad

So Where Did We Leave Off?

Oh yeah.

I said I was leaving Utah and moving to the Midwest.

That was over two years ago and quite a bit has changed since then. I would love to say that I got my happy ending, at least in some form or fashion. Sadly, that didn’t happen.

In fact, next week will be the one-year anniversary of me moving out and into my own apartment. And that says enough to where I could actually end this post right there. I’m sure you can guess, though, that there is a whole lot more beneath the surface of that statement.

The obvious question then becomes, “What happened?” Well, long story short, I finally recognized that the two of us just did not approach our relationship with the same intent or vision.

I can promise you that I do not feel blasé about the breakup as that simple explanation might lead you to believe. In fact, before I made the decision to move into my own space last year, the depth of the unhappiness and heartache I felt was overwhelming. I felt like I was drowning and that my own home was not a safe space. Top that with living in a state where I had no emotional ties, outside of my partner, and no support structure of my own. My circle of friends, spread out across the country, didn’t know much more than the few frustrations I shared back then. I retreated from them, as I often do when things get really difficult.

I was lost.

Thankfully, I made the decision to get help, and will always be grateful for finding an amazing therapist right off the bat. She provided the safe space I needed to scream and cry and brain dump everything I was feeling. Working with her allowed me to actually process what was going in the relationship. She mentioned once that she didn’t really do a lot for me, but I respectfully agree to disagree with her on that.

Now, therapy did not push me to move out. In fact, I still tried to make the relationship work for months after my first therapy appointment. I shared the work I was doing and the things I discovered about myself, in an effort to encourage my ex to finally open up. He had sought out his own therapist by that time. While I assured him that he was under no obligation to share anything with me from his sessions, I hoped he would. I was desperate to find some way for us to finally start connecting and communicating more effectively. Unfortunately, he only shared vague pieces of his sessions, and repeatedly told me his therapist wasn’t giving him any “homework”. Sigh.

When the day came that I realized I needed my own space, I STILL wasn’t actually ending the relationship. I just knew I needed a place where I could get back what I had lost by putting all my effort into building a relationship with this man. I needed a place where I could find some peace and joy in my life again.

Two months after I moved into my own space, however, I ended the relationship.

To be continued…

misc rantings, random, relationships

Crisis Ended

For a long time, I never thought the day would arrive when I could say these next words, but…

After almost 20 years of captivity, I am finally being released from Utah.

Let me back up a little. Okay. Let me back up A LOT.

When the decision was made, back in 2002, to move to Utah, it was only supposed to be temporary. Yeah. Supposed to be.

My husband at the time, now EH2 (ex-husband #2), was a victim of a downturn in the technology market and was laid off when his company decided to close the fab where he worked. He had already enrolled in college and was going to be starting classes that fall when the layoffs were announced. While we started scrambling to figure out what to do next to support our family, EH2 still wanted to get his degree and make him more marketable in the workforce.

After a lot of discussion, we decided that we would move to Utah. EH2 grew up there, and a large part of his family was still there, which would give us an immediate support system. This would allow him to go to school full-time, as opposed to taking classes around his work schedule, and he could finish his degree faster. The goal was to: get in (to Utah), get his degree, and get the fuck out.

Yeah. That didn’t happen.

When EH2 got his degree, he received a job offer in, you guessed it, Utah. Oy.

By then, sadly, our marriage was on its last leg. It would be another few years, however, before I actually filed for divorce. Once the divorce was final, EH2 was certain that I would ‘get the hell out of Dodge’. But I couldn’t afford to do that. When I filed, I split our debt equally in the petition. He took his and I took mine. The only problem with that was my wage was considerably less than his. So, I asked for just enough alimony to offset the difference. I was never trying to screw him. And when all was said and done, I had enough money to live and support our child, but nowhere near enough to finance relocating to another state.

So I stayed in Utah. Ugh.

To be honest, living in Utah has not been ALL bad. Oh, don’t get me wrong, Utah is plenty bad! We are talking about a highly conservative state, heavily financed by an organization that makes many ask the question, “What happened to separation of Church and State?” It is also a highly populated state, to the point of so very often feeling like there is nowhere to go to get away. And don’t even get me started on the level of ignorance, selfishness, and prejudice I have witnessed during my time here.

What was good, you might ask? Well, I must admit to the beauty of this place, for starters. For being essentially a desert state, you can find so many different topographic examples: red rock cliffs, salt flats, mountains, lakes… I live in a corner of the Salt Lake valley with a stunning mountain view from my patio, which I will miss.

Utah also holds a lot of history. Not just American history (You’ve heard of Promontory Point, right? That’s here. And I finally visited it!), but also personal history. My great grandparents emigrated here from Finland and ran a boarding house in Bingham Canyon in the early days of the Kennecott Copper Mine. How cool is that?

I also found my career path here. I will admit that, when I first moved to Utah, I struggled to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. I had various jobs, but not enough experience in any of them to see a real path forward. I eventually received an opportunity to move into an accounting support position. That was the moment that the heavens opened and the angels sang out to me. I finally saw a field for which I have an aptitude and could use my existing skillset. WIN WIN!

And then, of course, there is TM (The Man). Had I left Utah when I was ‘supposed to’, or never even come here at all, the odds are high that I would likely have never met him (and we have discussed many times about how we could have still met if the Universe wanted to bring us together). In September, we will have been together for nine years. WHAT????? And he is still alive, can you believe it? Trust me, he counts his blessings every day that I have not killed him yet.

So, see? Not all bad.

In a little over a week, however, I will depart for the Midwest. And as I write that, I realize just how weird that sounds for me.

Throughout my time in Utah, I figured that, someday, I would eventually get back home. After all, I am a Cali girl through and through. And the nearly two decades I spent here were never considered as actually being ‘home’. It was just a really long layover on my way to somewhere else. For many of those years, California and Texas were at the top of a very short list. If I couldn’t afford to move back home, which looked more and more likely with each passing year due to California’s economy, Texas was a perfect second choice. And somewhere along the way, Washington got added to the list, but that is a whole other story.

So, The Utah Hostage now becomes The Midwesterner? Hmmm… Maybe I should just take a celebrity cue and become The Woman Formerly Known As The Utah Hostage.

I think it might still need work.

dating diary, love, relationships

I remember

I remember
Your arm around me, pulling me close
The heat of your skin against mine
The sound of your voice in my ear

I remember
The touch of your lips on my skin
“Two thumbs up”
Knowing I would be back with you soon

I remember
Your eyes claiming me
Hearing that you missed me
Feeling truly wanted for the first time

I remember

family, life's injustices, misc rantings, relationships, things that make me sad

This is exactly why I don’t talk about the sperm donor.

WARNING: This post is a HUGE rant that covers a couple of decade’s worth of shit and even then I’m barely touching on SO many things. I TOTALLY understand if you want to run screaming from it. I want to run screaming from it, and it’s my life! If you do dare to actually read it, well then, consider yourself forewarned.

*****

I have an ex-husband. I admit it.

It’s not that I hide my first marriage. Not in the least. My first marriage played a very big part in shaping the person I am today. I just usually refer to it indirectly (second marriage, second husband, etc.). If you have checked out my sidebar, you might have noticed that I acknowledge my ex-husband briefly. Very. Briefly. And then I go on to say that I don’t like to talk about him. EVER.

I hate my ex-husband. Hate him. Yes, I did just use the H word. And yes, I do know how harsh that sounds.

I met my ex when I was a senior in high school. My first job was at the local roller skating rink (remember those?) and my ex worked there too. We met and got along well enough and started dating about a month after I started working at the rink.

Our relationship…..overall…..was volatile. I can’t think of a better word to describe it. We fought A LOT. I wouldn’t say it was abusive. But it sure as hell wasn’t healthy. It took me years to figure out that I jumped from the frying pan into the fire. I used him as my excuse to get away from my family, which was dysfunctional with a capital D.

I fooled myself into thinking that I loved my ex and stayed in the relationship because the alternative to me was so much worse. It was either him or my family. And it was imperative that I stay away from my family. They were quicksand to me (but that’s a post for another day). So I stayed. Even though he treated me badly. Even through the drugs. Even through the lies.

And then we broke up for a while. Sure, I know NOW that the break up was the best thing. But then? Breaking up with my ex forced me back to my family, which by this time was totally falling apart. I didn’t want to be around that. I still felt I had to get away from them. So when my ex apologized, I took him back.

I was pregnant with my son soon after and we were married a few months later.

After my son was born (at least I think it was after), my ex started having unexplained seizures that left him on disability and without a driver’s license. We had to move in with his parents, which just added more stress and things were already bad between us. By the time he went back to work and we moved out, the relationship was in shambles. The lies started again. When I confronted him with the huge lie he had told all along about his health issues, I said it was over. I took my son and left.

I struggled on my own. And I made mistakes. HUGE mistakes. Mistakes that I still kick myself for. One of those mistakes gave my ex the foothold he needed to separate my son from me. After that, he filed for divorce. Before the divorce was final, I felt like I hadn’t given the marriage 100% effort. I know now that it really was about still staying away from my family. I just didn’t have enough faith in myself.

The lies continued. My ex said that he had a vasectomy. Can you guess what happened next? You got it. I wound up pregnant. Luckily, that pregnancy did not go to term. I can’t even begin to imagine what it would have been like if we had another child together. I don’t want to.

Sadly, I stayed with him for quite a few more months. The divorce was final, but we were still dating. At some point, I FINALLY got a clue! I realized that I had given the marriage every effort, and that I deserved so much better. I told my ex that it was over.

To say he took it badly was an understatement. And he had the upper hand. He had my son. My ex knew that I wanted nothing to do with him, but he knew I wanted my son. And he used it against me every chance he got. When I moved out of state a few years later, I tried to work with my ex on a reasonable visitation, but he would have none of it. The day I left CA was the worst day ever. I didn’t see my son after that for 7 years.

My ex wasn’t planning to make it easy for me to stay in touch. He changed his phone number and refused to let me have it to try to keep me from contacting my son. He even took my son out of town on a weekend I drove back to CA. Yes, my ex knew I was coming. I made plans with him a month in advance. He was just being vindictive. I also knew he was bad mouthing me to my son (which was confirmed in a conversation my son and I had a couple of year s ago). He even told my son that if I attended his high school graduation, he wouldn’t be there. I showed up anyway (TAKE THAT MOTHERFUCKER!).

Thankfully, my son’s (paternal) grandmother made sure I was in his life. She is the primary reason I have such a good relationship with my son today. I will never forget her for that.

*****

I told you all of that because of the phone call I received from my son today. It started off as any other normal conversation. He wanted to get a phone number from me. The more he talked, though, the more I knew something was off. So I asked what happened. He said his father kicked him out last night.

And I wanted to kill my ex. Right fucking then and there.

My son was out here in Utah for a visit just a week ago. We talked about how things were at home. I was concerned at how my son described his father’s recent actions. They didn’t make sense to me. I wondered if his actions had anything to do with my son coming out to visit me. I kept it to myself, though, for my son’s sake. I only said here and there that I didn’t agree with certain things and that I didn’t understand why his father was being that way.

When my son went back home it seemed like things were going to be okay. He told his father he was going to move up to Sacramento because the city college there had space available in his degree (the junior college in Stockton where he currently lives is full). I supported his decision and it sounded like his father did too.

I don’t know what changed. And neither does my son. An argument yesterday culminated in my ex telling my son to get out and leave his keys. He also told my son that he is not allowed to call the house or his father’s cell phone. My son is not allowed to go to the house to get his things. Until this Thursday. For 3 hours. Seriously?!?!

I am at a loss. I don’t understand this at all. My son doesn’t do drugs. He doesn’t drink. He doesn’t smoke. He goes to his classes. He EXCELS in his classes. He is responsible. I DO NOT understand what could have happened that would justify this kind of reaction from my ex.

And it makes me wonder if it has to do with me. Is this my ex’s final vengeful act? He can’t use custody against me anymore, since my son is an adult. So is this his one last ditch effort to try to hurt me? I don’t know.

What does hurt me is that I’m not close enough to help my son. I want so badly to be there for him. But I can’t. And it kills me right now. I’ve been crying on and off since I got his call today. I know my son is strong and he will get through this, but I feel like he needs me. And dammit I’M HIS MOTHER! I should be there, right?

Good job, sperm donor. You get an A+ for acting like an ass and driving your son away. I hope you’re proud of yourself. Because in the end, YOU’RE the one who has truly lost.

life's injustices, relationships, things that make me sad

I don’t understand.

1 Comment

He was pissed off. At me. I didn’t understand why. So I asked.

Instead of getting an answer, I was insulted. I was called a whore.

I didn’t understand why.

The insults continued.

I explained that I didn’t deserve to be treated that way. I didn’t do anything wrong.

I was told that I was not trusted. That I was in danger of crossing a line.

I wasn’t. I was falsely accused.

I never did anything remotely close to what I was being accused of. I know I didn’t. I explained that and the insults stopped. I thought things would calm down.

I was wrong.

Somewhere in the middle of the conversation, I was the bad person again. The insults resumed.

And then it was quiet. He left.

Hours later, I received an apology, but I was still upset. I wasn’t being unreasonable. An apology just didn’t sweep it all away and make it not have happened. And when I explained that?

I was told to bury it.

Not asked.

Told.

Demanded actually.

I was supposed to bury the fact that I had been treated badly. I was supposed to act as if nothing ever happened.

How could I do that? WHY would I do that?

And because I wouldn’t ‘bury it’, I was the bad person all over again. The cycle repeated. The insults resumed.

Except that I still had not done anything wrong.

And I still didn’t understand why.

The next morning, I received another apology. I was told he was wrong. I was told he overreacted. I was told he acted immaturely. But he still didn’t acknowledge that I didn’t do anything wrong.

I explained that I can’t let this keep happening. I can’t continue to be a verbal punching bag. He agreed.

So now I try to get past it. But it’s hard. It gets harder each time. And when I think about what happened…

…I still don’t understand why.

*sigh*

friends can save you...or commit you, life's injustices, misc rantings, relationships, things that make me sad

I’ve made my bed, but there are some days I really don’t want to lie in it.

1 Comment
Have you ever had days where you were upset, really upset, about something but you don’t feel like you can talk to anyone about it cuz everyone knows that you made a decision and that your reasons behind that decision were logical and if you complain about having a bad time you will hear them say just suck it up or move on and you desire neither being unfair to them for having to hear about your situation YET AGAIN nor hearing someone else say what you have already said to yourself repeatedly, leaving you feel completely alone?

Yeah, me neither.

Except today…..aaaaannnd maybe yesterday too…..and maybe the day before that. So pretty much every damn day.

Ok…..so maybe not every day.

There are days when the logic prevails and I’m reminded that this was a GREAT decision. It’s been going well. Everything has been moving forward. The light at the end of the tunnel is getting a little closer.

Then there are the days when I repeatedly kick myself at the stupidity of this self-torture I’ve subjected myself to on a freaking near-daily basis. The days when I wonder just how small I will be made to feel. The days when I think I would be so much better off on my own as a single parent. The days when I think of possible reasons for hiring a hit man drinking myself into oblivion running off with a sugar daddy avoiding going home.

I won’t go into detail as to why I feel like screaming at the top of my lungs today (many days actually). The details aren’t important. And I know that when my best friend in the whole wide world reads this, she’ll be saying, “I’ll take Dumbasses whose names begin with the letter ‘R’ for $200 Alex.” Cuz even though I won’t tell her what’s going on, she KNOWS. And I love her for that.

And I know I will get past this. I will get to one of those days when logic will win out. Hopefully I will start to see more of those.

alcohol is good, dumb drivers (even me), entertainment, life's injustices, misc rantings, music for the masses, relationships, the method to my madness, things that make me sad

My mood at the beginning of the evening would have fit in better at a 2 Live Crew show instead of a Rick Springfield show.

3 Comments
Well, I just finished my homework, so let’s see if I can downshift and talk about this weekend. I know there are some curious minds out there. Now, it’s entirely possible that this will make sense to no one else but me. And I will not be in the least offended if you run screaming from this post. LOL

Last Friday is the Rick Springfield concert in Wendover. The show starts at 8pm and the trip takes 2 hrs from our house(especially going down Bangerter). I plan to leave home around 5 pm to allow time for motel check-in and maybe food (big maybe). The husband leaves work at Noon to take our daughter to stay with his mother. Even with travel time, he has plenty of time to get ready. I leave work at 4pm, like I planned, cuz I can’t take the day off or leave much earlier than that. I plan to dress casual, cuz it’s not Vegas people. It’s just Wendover. But I want to fix my hair and makeup a little, though. Anyone who really knows me knows that I didn’t already have my hair and makeup done for work. And I still need to pack a few things. I get home to find the husband dressing up. And I’m all, “You don’t need to dress up. I’m not.” He says he wants to dress a little nicer. Fine. Whatever. I pack my stuff in the suitcase and all that’s left is to change my top and fix my hair/makeup. Husband says he thought about going to the bank, but didn’t actually do it cuz we can stop by on the way out of town. That makes no sense to me since he left work more than 4 hours ago, but fine. Whatever. He then remarks that he didn’t realize this was a dress rehearsal. And I’m all, “Dress rehearsal? WTH is that supposed to mean?” And he says nevermind, which of course pisses me off. So when he does finally answer me, it’s a derogatory remark about me wanting to make myself look a little nicer. And I’m all, WTF? You’re dressing up and you can’t understand why I wanna do my hair and put on some makeup? You left work when? And you couldn’t bother to stop by the bank to save us some time? Seriously? Ok, so that was all in my head, but still. I was pissed. So I go into the bathroom (slamming the door for the desired effect) and realize that there’s no time to do my hair or makeup. That’s just great. Thankyouverymuch. I throw my hair up in a ponytail and come out of the bathroom to start throwing my last few things together. Maybe I’ll have some time once we get there to put some makeup on. I tell the husband that I’m upset about not doing anything wrong, but yet being made to feel really small for needing to do a few things. The husband then decides to tell me to go by myself and to have a good time. I NEED to have a good time by myself, he says. And I’m all, “Absolutely not! I’m not going to give you an opportunity to throw it back in my face later that I was a bitch who kept you from going to this concert! You’re going!” I may not speak to you for the entire trip, but you are FUCKING GOING! Ok, so that last part was an exaggeration. I grab everything except his CPAP and stomp down the stairs. The husband is behind me mumbling how I’m stubborn for not letting him carry anything. And I’m thinking, Dood, you just need to shut the hell up and get in the damn car before I change my mind! I throw everything in the car. And realize I’m starving. I know I won’t be eating before the show and I WILL be drinking. A LOT. That’s a given at this point. So I search the pantry for something to eat and the husband asks if I want yogurt. And I’m all, “Yogurt? And exactly how am I supposed to eat that?” He says with a spoon. And I’m all, “Seriously? While I’m driving?” Cuz I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let YOU drive! We get on the road and he doesn’t say a word. Not one. For like 30 minutes. And I’m thinking, Dood, you are SO not helping your case. He finally apologizes, and for once it actually sounded sincere (Long story. Really REALLY long story.). And he offers to drive so I can get ready. No way I’m letting him drive when we’re in a time crunch. HELL no. So we settle into a slightly less awkward silence for a while, which is just fine by me.

The rest of the drive was uneventful until the last 30 miles or so, which is where we encounter a bunch of drivers that are freakin’ STOOPID. They have no idea of how to drive on a two-lane highway (hint: YOU DON’T CAMP YOUR ASS IN THE LEFT LANE! I’m just sayin.). My tolerance on the road is…oohh…zero. Zilch. Nada. Especially now. So, to get away from them, I end up doing 100 the rest of the way to Wendover. The husband looks over at one point, and I’m all, “Yes, I AM doing a hundred!” Just stay on your side of the car. You’re still on my shitlist! Ok, so I only really said that first part. But the rest was on the tip of my tongue, I promise you.

Capping off the night? The motel. I have a reservation, but there’s a delay checking in. The desk clerk goes to get someone’s help. Oh shit. This other person comes out and says that the reservation was cancelled. Ummmmm, I didn’t cancel my reservation. The new clerk says they have one room available (a suite) that’s $129.95. Ummmm, I STILL didn’t cancel my reservation that was booked at $60. She says they’ll get it fixed. She calls customer service who tells her they cancelled the reservation per a phone call on 9/6/09. Ummmm, oooook. I supposedly called to cancel my reservation that I made ONLINE and no one thought to send me a confirmation ONLINE that it was cancelled? Sure, I totally get that. I do it all the time. Amazingly, I stay calm (I have NO idea how at this point). The clerk says they’ll fix it and gets us a room. I’m all, Didn’t you just say that you only had one room? Sweet, we’re gettin the suite? Niiiice! Oh, we’re getting a regular room? Fine. I’ll take it. We’re running out of time before the show starts, so I don’t fucking care anymore. I just want a place to sleep tonight. Wait! Didn’t you just say that you only had one room left?

We head straight to the concert hall after that and I’m so close to spewing forth the slew of 4-letter words I’ve been bottling up for the past 2 hours. Ask Twitter. I’ve got just enough time to throw on some mascara before the concert. And with a wave of that magic wand, I’m transformed into Princess Cinderella who gets swept off her feet by Prince Charming. Ok, so maybe it wasn’t quite that magical. Rick never got anywhere near me. But I got to see a great show.

And I can’t believe it just took me 3 hours to write this. I was reliving it…..in real-time. Great.

dreams, life's injustices, love, relationships

Some days I just don’t know how I’m going to do this.


Having this time to myself just wasn’t what I thought it would be.

When the husband said he was finally being sent out of town for work, I dropped to my knees and cried, “My prayers have been answered, thank you LORD!” But then I remembered that I’m agnostic, so that didn’t really help. I thought that the time apart would be a good break from the tension in the house. And it has been. But along with that, came something I wasn’t expecting. Something that I am having a difficult time explaining (even to myself). I found that I focused on how much I wanted to be free of this ‘arrangement’ and to move on with my life. To hopefully find love again. And I realized how scared I am that I won’t be able to find it. That I won’t be able to have a lasting, loving relationship (that is after the prince charges up on his white steed and sweeps me off my feet – good dream!). It keeps me up at night and helps me plot how I’m going to stab the husband as he sleeps cuz I can he snores.

I recently bought the eternity necklace above. I’m not superstitious. I just liked the idea of wearing these rings near my heart reminding me of things I need to hold onto through this tough time (cuz I couldn’t find faith, trust, and pixie dust). If they don’t work I can always start rubbing my rabbit’s foot, knocking on wood, and spinning around clockwise 7 times.

P.S. I’m watching An Officer and a Gentleman on cable and they dubbed over & bleeped out the word wop. This country’s going to hell. I should probably try to get some sleep, but the odds of success are not in my favor. Good thing the husband is not here or he would be in serious danger if he eyeballed me.

P.P.S. Oh, I need a drink.