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Meet your Special Someone™
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Welcome to Ari-Wood. Step right up and see the sights. To your left, you will see the delicate fragility of fairy land. On the right, watch out for the fiery dragons. For your safety, we recommend you stay on the path and don't stray into the netherworlds of risk and chance. Alternatively, perhaps you like the benefits that go along with taking that chance..........
All rights to the poetry and stories in Ari-Wood
belong exclusively to the author.
That which is not mine,
That which is not good,
That which is not altruistic....
Is requested to leave.
The stories and poems encased in this crystal blog are written from my own imagination and in no way are intended to be viewed as written to any specific person unless I specifically state that it is.
My heart is a book which you leaf through as simply as the pages of this blog..
Antiqued an worn
The words bleed
From a hidden place
Deep within my chapters
Where only one can see
And whispering spirits tarry
Frayed are my edges
Yet my gliding
Remains beautiful
Not a mere ornament
But a testament to the tooling
Which has geared my life
Sown tightly is my binding
I have weathered the years
I shine with wisdom an character
Like no other book
Yet my cover bares the marks
Of ordinary use
Turn my pages lightly
And you shall read
My hued memories
Of dreams and dreaminess
Of times and timelessness
Of lives and liveliness
Upon my inner pages
Are scribbled
Achromatic dreams
My love
My hopes
My life
You are such a treasured book
All my love, Sister of my heart
(Written by a special sister of my heart...MsAlchemy2...a special gift...I wanted to share.)
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| Is That Wrong? |
Aug 1, 2007 10:31 pm
642 Views | I have really mixed feelings about my ex...and I really need to work through them. The man has done some really ugly things in the past, but I don't believe it makes him a bad man...just a very confused and screwed up man. I believe that the most honest words he ever said are that he didn't know if he knew how to love. I think that's true...and I don't think he loves anyone, including himself.
So...how do I feel about him? I'm afraid of him, for the most part. His hands are quick to hit, his words slice into me like knives through butter, when he glares at me I still drop into silence. I hate that I allow myself to live like this. Now...don't get me wrong...he hasn't hit me for awhile...but his words....oh yeah...he uses those all the time.
For awhile, I wondered if I still loved him...but I don't. He killed any hope of that when he told me he'd never loved me...those were words I couldn't bear to hear. Those were words that shattered my world...and I can't get past them. He often asks me why I can't just forget them...have you ever had someone say something unforgiveable to you? Something that might never offend someone else...but broke every silent rule in your life? Something you just couldn't get past? That's how I feel.
I remember every slap, I remember every injury, I remember every hurtful word...as if they were spoken yesterday. They don't have the power to hurt me today...but they shredded my life into unstable, unusable pieces for years...and I never want to feel that sense of emptiness again.
I like the man, sometimes...not always. Sometimes he can be fun to be with, easy to laugh...most of the time he is silent and morose. I don't do well with those characteristics...while I enjoy a quiet house, I want it to be companionably quiet..not dead silent. I never want to walk around afraid to make a sound...and I love a house that rings with laughter and singing...the sheer enjoyment of life. That's the home I want to live in.
Until last year, I really didn't much care if he lived with me or not. When he turned into a$$hole man, I wanted him to get out so much I would have paid him to leave. The rest of the time, he simply was...another body in my house. Last year, all of that changed for me. I had an experience that reminded me what it's like to love and be loved...what it's like to want something more...what it's like to want to be with someone who makes you feel good about yourself, them....everything. And I wanted it so much it hurt.
Of course, knowing I wanted it so much...and knowing it meant he would have to move, made my ex very angry...and very determined to break me down again.
So...how does he do that? Some of his favorite things to do are to tear down other people. If I like someone, he's an a$$hole. If I'm talking to someone, he's unforgiveably rude. The man is stupid; the man is mean; the man just wants to get laid....I hear that every man will always treat me as he has....because that's how men are. I hear that no man will ever want me. He won't say I'm ugly, but he will say, "Well...with that scar on your face..." and I feel deformed. He won't say I'm fat, but he will say..."Well....I like women with some extra meat." Every word is geared to making me feel less secure about myself..and he's good at it. Of course, he's had lots of practice.
It isn't just slaps at how I feel about my appearance, it's slaps at how I do things...and I always do them wrong.
I wanted to help him to get established on his own, in a place he could afford; but he manages to spend money faster than I can get it done. He is always broke and always needing a loan. He can't possibly move out, he's maxed out a new bunch of credit cards. We've had this talk a hundred times, that he needs to slow down and get his debt under control; but I have no way to push the issue...so I just watch what he does and wonder...is he doing this to keep me feeling like he can't afford to live? What happens if I just say...it's time? What will he do...and how much is it my responsibility?
I know he doesn't want to move out. It's pretty easy for him here. He works around the house a couple days a week in exchange for his rent. Since I started remodeling, he's supposed to be helping with it...but he helps on his schedule, not on mine. So...he might work on the gutters today...and then miss three days...or simply work on them after I come home from work. And then the housework doesn't get done, cause he's so busy.
Or am I being unfair? Is he really working harder than I can see? Am I using him to get my house done? Am I cheating...breaking my own rules...setting myself up so I will feel guilty about asking him to move because he helped do the house?
The work gets done piecemeal...he does a part of this project and a little bit of that. I hate this. I like things organized. I just want to start on one project and have it finished before I move on. Sometimes that's not practical...but for the most part, it's pretty doable. but, maybe I'm being unfair.
And damn it....why do I always have to worry about what's right and what's wrong? Why do I always have to have this thought in the back of my head...are you being fair? When does it come down to what I want...what I need...and screw the rest of the world....and....and...I can't do that. But sometimes I want to. When does it come down to me? How do I know what the right thing to do is? How do I know I'm not misinterpreting his words, his thoughts, his actions? How do I know he really doesn't love me? Maybe I'm wrong...and hurting him....and doing harm....and which harm is greater...that I do him...or that I do me? And when will I ever wise up and simply say....I need....and I count...
Is that wrong? | |
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| You Are Now Entering Idaho |
Aug 1, 2007 9:51 pm
538 Views | Idaho's about the last place I thought I'd ever live. It's not a bad place, don't get me wrong...but there's no ocean, there are very few good sized cities, the mountains are way the hell small compared to Colorado...and I had no friends here...just a sister. But, Idaho has been the best place for me to find me..to learn and grow and change into the woman I've always tried to be.
The job I took was the Administrative Assistant for a mine. It was a brand new job so I got to do what I love best...design the perfect job for me. My new boss was a brilliant man who taught me tons and I love that I got to work for him for two years. He needed to know a lot about the costs at the mine...which fit right in with what I most love to do...play with numbers and spreadsheets. And I did.
While the job wasn't always perfect...I have no complaints. I was the only woman working for the company at the mine. The men treated me like I was something special. Of course, they quickly learned that I was something specially rotten...special ed...specially noxious. I actually fit right in with the guys cause they couldn't shock me with whatever they said...and I was always willing to fire it right back at them. I loved working with each one of them and treasure every one of the relationships I built.
Perhaps the one really great thing they taught me was that not one of them would say anything wrong about his spouse. Each of the men talked about how much they loved their wives, how they were their best friends, how they took care of them. It was my first real experience with men who lived what they spoke..and treated others with respect.
Not everyone here is Mormon, although it is a predominantly Mormon community. Mormon's tend to see women as slightly less than men...more subservient. When my boss move up the ladder, his replacement did not much care for me. He was Mormon and I definitely didn't mean his standards or his expectations. It annoyed him no end that I did not hesitate to question his actions when I felt they were wrong, to insist that he live up to his commitments to me, to try to teach him what he needed to know. I wasn't the quiet, receding, subservient woman he was comfortable with. We worked together about a year and by the time I left the mine, I was ready to quit....or kill...and killing is against all of my belief systems.
One of the accountants at the plant quit and I was asked to replace him while they hired a permanent replacement. It was quite an honor to be asked, particularly since I have such a limited education in accounting. In time, I did a really good job and I got the job on a permanent basis. I hope my boss is never sorry he did this.
My boss is the second really great man I have ever worked for. Also brilliant...in a different way, he treats me with respect, thanks me for my contribution, encourages me to try new things, to question, to learn...and guides me with his own standards and experience...which are exceptional. I hope he stays there a long time so I can learn all he knows.
I am required to attend college and to obtain my degree to keep my job. I'm not doing so well at it. I jumped in too fast and too much happened...but I'm getting back on track.
In other ways, Idaho has also been good for me. Far from being as judgmental as I feared about my differences, people often encourage me to be exactly who I am. The fact that I am Wiccan rarely seems to upset or threaten anyone...but then, I don't question their beliefs either. For the first time in my life people enjoy my twisted sense of humor and tease me back in the same tone. They accept me for the person I am...not for who they expect me to be. Now...that doesn't mean all of them like me...but the ones who don't...are pretty few and far between. And it's very mutual...I like these people as well.
The part I still haven't finished working through is my ex. I don't really know what I'm doing here some I'm just going to lay it all out....perhaps it will help me see what I've done, where I'm going, and how to get there. Shhh...I didn't say tell me where to go...lol
Laughter..that's not very real right now. This has been a hard period, writing my life, thinking it through, alternating between hoping someone would care...and hoping someone wouldn't judge....and wondering why I would even give a damn. I didn't write this for you. I wrote it for me. If you gain too...it's a blessing...but I needed to see it out in front of me...so I could decide what my next steps have to be.
So....off to the races, hmmm? | |
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| Leaving Colorado |
Aug 1, 2007 9:30 pm
540 Views | Lord and Lady...I hope I'm almost done here. I'm about sick of my own story....well, I was sick of it while it was happening, I guess, hmmm?
So...I found a new job doing Accounts Receivable and Cost Accounting for a heating and air conditioning company. It was a small company, so I also ended up doing Safety and Worker's Comp. I really loved the job and I learned a lot of new things...particularly about getting along with a wide variety of personalities. The job suited me...but then the stock market took a dive and lots of our customers started bailing.
The company began laying off people and I knew it was only time before it would be me as well. As usual, I confronted it head on. I went to my boss and told him...I am the one person here who supports my entire family. Unlike everyone else, I don't have a spouse to help pay the bills. So, I know you will have to let me go eventually, I'd just like to ask you to give me as much warning as you can. In return, I promise to give you all I have until that time comes. He assured me that he had no intention of laying me off if he could avoid it, but every month brought more and bigger layoffs.
My sis called and told me about an opening at a plant in Idaho. She didn't know what it paid, but really good jobs for women can be few and far between here. I wasn't sure I was interested in a job that took me backwards half a dozen steps in my career, but I had nothing to lose, so I applied...and got the job. It was a cut in pay but had great benefits; the cost of living was tremendously cheaper, and I liked the small community. It took a lot of working things through...but I finally decided it wasn't working for me in Glenwood...and I took the job.
I had a couple of big issues to work through when I moved. First, was what I was going to do with my ex. I really didn't want him to move with me...but, the cost of living was so high in Colorado...I thought if I got him to move to Idaho, he'd be better able to afford living on his own.
Or was it more selfish than that? I also knew I couldn't make the move alone. It took two 24' trucks and two car trailers to move my household. I'd have never managed it in the timeframe I had...and no one I knew was available to help. So...was it because I needed help that I had him move with me? Was it for my own selfish reasons? Or was it because I thought I could help him? I was so mixed up about it, I wasn't sure if I was doing the right thing for the wrong reasons or the wrong thing for the right reasons. So, I kept thinking it over....am I being fair to him? Am I being fair to me?
When he knew I was going to move, he changed his tune a lot. Suddenly he was all sweetness and light and wanted to be with me. We'd done nothing but fight in the previous months, but I was not sure if it was him or me causing the fights.
My doctor had decided to help me quit smoking and put me on Wellbutrin. It never helped me quit, but it did seem that I had a ton more energy and simply felt...optimistic. I never really noticed any changes other than that until the day I forgot to take them. I got through the day and felt fine. But....sometime in the early evening, I suddenly started crying for no apparent reason...and I simply couldn't stop. The next day I took my pill and I was fine. Over the next few weeks, I occasionally chose to not take the pill...and each time I found myself an emotional wreck. It scared the snot out of me and I finally just gave up the pills...but it also made me wonder what it was in me that caused the reaction I'd had.
And that just confused me more. So...in the end...I chose the easy route...I said he could move with me...but he had to understand that I was tired of the game playing. I wanted a life. Either we would work things out...or we would walk away from one another. He agreed...but as usual, he agreed to what he wanted to hear...not to what I had said.
So...a new venture, a new life. I didn't know it when I left Colorado...but I was beginning one of the best experiences of my entire life. | |
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| Learning about me |
Aug 1, 2007 9:05 pm
548 Views | I actually enjoyed running a store, although I'd never done it before. The store had been losing money for several years and I was their last ditch effort to turn it around. I am, after all, an organizer. I planned exactly how I thought a well-run store should be run.
First, I reorganized the layout, opening it up and cleaning it up. Then I worked on the staff. I had a staff of three, a delivery person who was one of the most wonderful women I've ever met, an oxygen therapist with a chip on her shoulder a mile wide (she had wanted that job), and a developmentally disabled cleaning person. And really, it was a terrific place to work with great people.
I learned a lot about myself there. I learned that I could stand up to people without being hurtful, and accomplish amazing things. The first person I had to stand up to were the customers who had left. I researched each one of them and called them to invite them back. I asked about their experiences in the store. I heard that they felt they had been poorly treated and that the products they needed were often out of stock. I made a lot of promises that I would ensure the situation would improve.
One very lovely man assured me that it didn't matter what I did, he would never be back...but I still got him to give me his product information...and I ordered it in and kept it on a shelf in my office. A few months later, in a crisis, he came to me and was shocked that I had his product. He came to my store every month until he died...and then his wife called me to tell me how much he had liked and respected me for the changes I'd made in the store, for how easy I made it for him (he lived on my way home and I would often drop his product off for him), for the way I kept my promises. In the time I came to know him...he touched my heart and I was so pleased to hear that I had touched him.
The next action I took was to confront my problem child employee. We had a serious discussion very late one night. I'm not terribly subtle...least of all when I'm mad. She had been rude to a customer and I had waited for her late enough that she thought she had managed to miss me. I was pretty blunt when I told her, "You need to get that chip off your shoulder or find another job." I really thought she'd be angry and resentful, but she was honest enough to admit that her attitude was hurting her career...and our clients. She did try to change...but there were lots of hard feelings between her and the company and a few months later she accepted a job in another part of the country. I hope it was very successful for her.
I also learned that, while facing my fears may not cure them or solve anything, it does make me feel better about myself. Two really unpleasant incidents happened at the store. The first was a gentleman who ran another store in the area, who resented my parking in an end parking spot. He cornered me one morning and demanded that I move my car and no longer park there. I simply refused.
I tried to explain to him that I'm blind in one eye, have no depth perception, and can't get in or out of tight parking spots easily. He did not want to hear it...in fact, his comment was, "Why do I feel as if you are just telling me no?" I answered, "Ummmm...because I am?" It didn't go over well. He was a big man and towered over me. I usually find that very intimidating, but for some reason, I was willing to stand toe to toe with the man and look in his eyes as I refused to comply with his demands.
He made my work experience miserable for a time as he would watch and glare, yell at me in front of my customers, block my access to the store, or slam his chest into me. I responded by calling the police and allowing the company to pursue the issue in court. The court ruled that he had to stay x number of feet from both my daughter and me..and have no contact with us for a year. He did just that and a year later his record was cleared. I was fine with it as long as I didn't have to deal with the ugliness.
The second incident involved an employee. We had hired a new person who moved into the area from another state. When he came into town to interview, I had given him the local paper and talked to him about rents, the cost of living, that he should ensure he negotiated a good deal so he could afford to live in the area. He started working about 6 weeks before he actually moved his family there, and for those six weeks, I allowed him to live in my guest room so that he didn't have to spend a fortune staying in the area. I didn't charge rent or anything, just tried to help as much as I could.
But, once he moved up there, he learned that the cost of living was much higher than he'd bargained and he began to be nasty in his comments about how the company and I had cheated him. I wasn't willing to listen to it and reminded him that I had warned him. Then he claimed he was injured. I remembered a story he had told me about having injured the same body part twice in successive years and received settlements in time to pay for Christmas and I passed those stories along to our Worker's Comp carrier. That was my obligation as manager.
The insurance company investigated and denied his claim. The doctor's office said they felt he was faking the injury. Immediately following his last appointment there, the doctor's office called me and told me they were pretty sure he'd just called in a bomb scare to their office. It closed their offices for a full day. My boss decided that he should come into the store and call her...she would fire him by phone. I was so uncomfortable with the idea, as was my co-worker. We truly felt this was a man who could lose control and hurt others in his path. We were relieved when he took the information, called everyone a few not nice names, and left.
The best thing about the job was that I met Kelly through my store. She managed the business next door and over the year and a half I was there, we built up a beautiful and lasting friendship. The job gave me a great deal...and I was sorry when they decided to sell off all stores which supplied oxygen...which included my store.
And now...it was time to find another job..... | |
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| My Break from Reality |
Jul 31, 2007 10:07 pm
558 Views | In January, the company I worked for got a new software package. They wanted to convert two years of construction records to the new package which was totally different from the QuickBooks we’d used up to then. It should have been relatively easy, but I worked for Scrooge and Vicious Scrooge. They wouldn’t pay for extra staff…it was my job to do. I really needed to keep my job. The salary I made was excellent for the area and the time. Other companies just weren’t paying that well. So, I gave what I had to give to the company.
It was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. Over the next few months my work schedule increased until I was working more than I was home. I’d work three or four days and nights straight and then go home and collapse for four or five hours and do it again. My mother was bringing dinner to the office for me; my daughter was reading data to me so I could enter it. But, I was so exhausted it was a huge waste of time and effort. I couldn’t see that then.
Tia and mother continued to argue. My ex continued to show up whenever I got home. I was exhausted, confused, and tired of all the fighting. My ex kept asking me to get a place with him…just as room mates. He couldn’t afford rent on his own. Of course, he wouldn’t take low income housing…but I wouldn’t find that out for several years. And finally…after one particularly ugly fight between Tia and my mother…I gave in. I told my ex that if he agreed we would be room mates only…no sex, no relationship…none of it…I would share a house with him for awhile.
He and Tia had everything arranged in a matter of days…and they even moved everything. I was still working the same incredible hours.
I don’t think I really noticed that we had moved for awhile. They painted my bedroom sea-foam green…one of my two favorite colors. All I noticed was that it was very peaceful in my room. Otherwise, I just kept working. Until September.
In September, Tiana told me that she hadn’t seen me all year. I had to really sit down and think about when the conversion had started…and what time of year it was now….and she was right. I was so exhausted I could barely think straight. I went to work the next day and when my boss yelled at me…I simply started crying…and I couldn’t seem to stop. I told him that I was quitting…effective immediately. He called me a quitter. It’s ok. You’re probably right…but I’m killing myself.
I went home and slept for four days. When I finally woke up, it was to find that I had no idea what I was doing. I thought I had lost my sanity. I couldn’t remember anything for more than a minute. I would start a task and forget what I was doing. My mind was so fuzzy I couldn’t find my way around my own house. My vision was just as fuzzy. It’s odd how permanent those things feel as you are going through them.
I truly believed I had lost my sanity, my ability to remember, even my ability to hold down a regular job. I would fight my boss for three months over unemployment, finally beating him when his landlady testified against him. It would be more than four months before I began to feel as if I could keep anything straight in my head, and slightly longer before I began to feel normal.
Six months later I was offered a new job running a medical supply store in Glenwood Springs. It paid slightly more money than my previous job, but would require either a long (101 mile) commute twice a day…or a move to the area. Since we weren’t arguing too much…and since rents in the Glenwood area start at around $1,000/month for a small apartment or townhouse…I agreed that my ex would move with me. Without that, I wouldn’t have been able to take the job.
At the same time, Tiana decided to drop out of school. Since she was sixteen, I couldn't stop her. I could, however, be a bitch. So I was. I told her she had a choice. She could return to school, or she could get a job and help pay the bills at the house. I didn't charge her a lot...$200 a month...but I made her pay it every month...and kept reminding her that I would stop charging her rent if and when she returned to school. She never did. But she did learn a great deal about being responsible for herself...and I'm very proud of the woman she's become.
Eventually, I found a house outside of Rifle...about 35 minutes from Glenwood...at least, in good weather. The house was 13 miles outside of town; the nearest neighbors were a tenth of a mile west of us and a mile east of us. It was very rivate and very beautiful, high up in a mountain valley with the most gorgeous views. The first time I saw the house, I felt like I had come home. It was homesteaded in the mid-1800's and added to over the years. It had everything I could imagine I ever wanted...a huge rock patio, terraced gardens, privacy, a gate so I could close the world out. It was right at the base of the mountain, so the snowplows turned around in the driveway, very generously plowing it for me as they did. I loved that house. | |
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| Pressure |
Jul 31, 2007 9:45 pm
534 Views | Tia and mother would not get along. Sometimes Tiana would call me at work to complain about mother…and mother would call on another line to complain about Tia (Tia used my personal phone line). It reached a point where I had to insist they could not call me at work unless there was a serious emergency. They fought over the most ridiculous things. Mother said the new volkswagon was cute…Tiana said it was butt ugly. And they were off to the races.
I really wanted to move out into my own place but it wasn’t as easy as all that. I had an old horse I was paying to board. I had a car payment. I had a fifteen year old daughter. I kept running the numbers and coming up about $150 short for being able to afford a reasonably nice place….nothing fancy…just reasonably nice. Oh yeah…I had taken all the debt from the marriage…except his truck payment. My house payment had been $560/month. But rents had climbed to $800.
I tried to talk my ex into selling our house, even needing repairs. I brought a realtor out and she thought she could get more out of it than we had in it…but he refused. He would not sign the paperwork to allow the house to be sold so I stopped making the payments on it and it was foreclosed on. All the money we had put into it…was just gone. He told me that he figured my credit was important to me…so he was going to destroy it. He did. The foreclosure would cost me ten years to get it off my credit. He paid his truck payment late every month for four years…on my credit. It’s only this year that I’ve finally managed to get it all cleaned up…and I’m still fighting a couple of issues from then.
So…nowhere to go. I had a friend who had a house for rent in Fruita…$800. I was still short on being able to rent it. It was a really cute three bedroom house in an older neighborhood and I liked it a lot....but I just couldn’t swing it. Tiana was determined to move. She did not want to live with her grandmother any longer.
I can’t entirely blame Tiana; mother is very hard to get along with. She searches your room when you are not home, helps herself to whatever she wants out of it, lies damn near constantly, and is perhaps the most argumentative, opinionated person I know…and that’s saying a lot when I look at myself in the mirror…but I will argue for fun…debating. Mother argues because she has to be right.
So we kept running the numbers and talking…and no matter what I did, I couldn’t stretch the money. I looked at apartments, but they wouldn’t let me keep my dogs. I don’t give up my animals easily. I had to have a place I could have my dogs…a reasonable place for my horse…and all at a price I could afford and still pay all the residual bills from our marriage. And that wasn’t looking like it was going to happen.
Oh yeah…did I forget? When I left, he took all the credit cards, the home equity line…and maxed them out…totally…again. So..here I was with a mountain of debt and I couldn’t see any way out of it.
Tiana had a suggestion. I should share a house with her father.
I don’t friggin think so. We’ll just stay here.
I don’t want to stay here, Mom.
Tough. No. Not doing it.
I’ll give her credit…she tried hard; but I had just walked out of that mess and I wasn’t the least bit interested in walking back into it. No. I am not as stupid as I look.
A month or so later, my ex started showing up at the park where I walked. He wanted to walk with me.
I prefer to walk alone, thanks. I like this time to think.
Don’t you think we should talk about Tia?
What about Tia?
She’s not very happy right now.
She seems fine, thanks. Why would you think that?
Do you know how your mother treats her?
Oh Lord…I don’t want to have this discussion.
Ari…if you let her treat Tia badly…I will have to go back to court to get custody of her.
On your best day…you couldn’t take Tiana. I would never allow it.
And so…sometimes we would walk together. Sometimes I made him really mad. Once I made him so mad he flung his glasses and shattered them…and then had to walk mostly blind. I wasn’t sympathetic. All it took to make him mad was to disagree with him. Finally, I had reached the end of my limit with him and told him that I didn’t want him to show up where I was. I guess it really freaked me out when he started telling me everywhere I had been on specific days…and how long I had spent there. That was when I realized that he was following me around town. He thought it was funny….I thought it was terrifying. And it made me mad.
So…he stopped walking with me. He waited a bit longer and started showing up at my mother’s house. Tiana was generally home when he’d show up. I really had to struggle with myself to be nice about it. I felt that Tiana should have the right to see her father…but I felt trapped by the two of them. It was miserable and I spent a fair bit of time back in my room…but then I decided that was a garbage answer. I started asking him why he was showing up every day.
I want to see you.
Yeah, right. Please stop.
I love you.
I can’t live with your love. Please don’t do this.
He’d stop for a little while…and then he’d be back, sitting on the front porch when I got home from work.
Did I tell you I have a naughty mouth? Hmmm…did I forget that part? I’d reached the end of my rope and I asked him if he wanted me to put an ad in the paper for him…”Date my ex-husband, please. I’ll pay.” He didn’t’ find me amusing. I probably should be more understanding of that. But I’m not…I thought it was funny.
And time marched on…back and forth, back and forth. It made him mad when I went out on dates. I was accused of all kinds of things. The funniest part of all that is that…I never slept with a single date. I still hadn’t been with another man…but he’ll never know that. | |
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1 comment | |
| Finding Me |
Jul 31, 2007 7:47 pm
519 Views | Divorced….free. I cried the first few days for all the things that had changed in my life; for letting go of my own beliefs in the permanence of marriage, for all the ugliness that had gone on for so long, for all I had been willing to put up with, for the teenage girl who was so battered by what we had given her, for the man who was so lost in his own misery….I cried until I had no more tears. I wouldn’t cry again willingly.
When I was all cried out, I found that I was hollow and empty. I wasn’t really sure who or what I was. I told you that I changed my name. All my life I had gone by my middle name. My first name was Ruth. It never fit me; it was just a family name that all of us hated. So, I had my name legally changed to Arreana. It was the name of a tiny fairy my daughter had given me for my birthday. She said the fairy…and the name…reminded her of me….and that the name was supposed to be mine. I loved the name and Tiana was right.
My middle name was Rene, and that was what my family had always called me. I knew that Rene was my mother’s daughter, my ex-husband’s wife, the abused child, the battered woman…and I didn’t want to be her anymore. Name doesn’t mean much of anything…but the life we have attached to that name does. So, I kept my middle name, but I no longer use it…although my family still insists they will never use Arreana….and I haven’t really pushed the issue…but that day is coming as well. Arreana Rene. That’s me. I had no idea who I was, where I was going, what life was meant to be for me. But I knew that I would never again be that same woman I had been.
My first step into the world was to begin to find me. What did I like? What did I love? What were my friends like? I learned that I love eggs benedict, I love long drives going nowhere, I love to wander dry river beds searching for beautiful stones, I love to play with teenagers, I love music cranked to suit my mood, I love to wander in my imagination, I love to dance my way through the house, I love to help shape young lives. I couldn’t care less about television, I didn’t want to be near people who were hurtful to anyone, I despise raised voices and yelling, I can’t stand negativity around me, and I don’t like sweets. I learned these things one piece at a time as I tried things out and re-established my own identity…not the identity everyone else had given me…or I had allowed them to give.
One of the first things I did for myself was to establish a time for me. I began to walk, every night, at Connected Lakes. Some nights I really didn’t want to walk…but for some reason, I forced myself to do so. I learned to love those walks. Sometimes Tiana would join me, sometimes one of her friends, sometimes an entire group of her friends, sometimes my mother…but most often, I walked alone. I walked in silence with my thoughts for company.
I thought about all kinds of things. I thought about the idea that I had a hard time believing in the same God everyone talked about. I had a hard time believing that God would make life so hard for individual people. Weren’t we all supposed to be created equally? Why had my life hurt so much? Why did other’s lives hurt even more? Why did some people seem to skate through life with little worry?
I thought about my entire life and wondered what I could have done differently…and then one day, I realized that thinking about it didn’t change a thing. So, I began to think about what I wanted from life. I wanted to live. I wanted to be happy. I wanted to find myself. I wanted to know tomorrow would be ok and I didn’t have to worry about it. I wanted to be around people who made me feel good…about myself, the world around me, everything….not people who were always negative and ugly about it. I wanted to hear the sound of laughter. I wanted with a thirst that was unquenchable.
One of Tiana’s very best friends has often told me how I looked when he met me. He’s always described me as a whipped puppy hiding in the corner, afraid to meet anyone’s eyes, afraid to make a sound. He often said he wished he could beat the person who made me that way. Honestly, I guess he’d have to beat me. I made me into who I was in order to feel safe from everything around me. I did this. It was a choice I made.
Within a few months, I was not so afraid. I laughed openly, but not often…I talked as loudly as I wanted, I played music whenever I wanted, I danced through the days and began to love living…one tiny step at a time. And still…I walked every night with my own thoughts for company. I’d stop sometimes and watch the animals…but mostly, I just walked with myself and listened to the voice of the river…although I didn’t hear her well at the time.
I grew more confident in myself, standing taller, looking people in the eye, being willing to say no…I can’t, no…it’s not right, no…that’s not something I choose to do. I even found the strength to stand up to my mother as I needed to, without anger.
She and I talked, one long day, about my father and all I had been through with him. I was surprised when she brought it up; it wasn’t her style to face any kind of ugliness in our lives. I told her how I had felt, living in that house; how I had felt when she denied the truth; how I had felt about how long she allowed it to continue. But, in lots of ways I made it easy for her and simply said….”It’s over, Mother. It isn’t worth talking about now. I don’t hate you; I don’t hate him. What’s done is done and we can’t change any of it…so let it go.” She never believed I didn’t hate her for that. I didn’t. It wasn’t worth my time and I was beginning to understand how precious my time was.
Not that mother had changed or anything. She still made sure I heard how bad a mother I was, how I needed to live up to my sister, whatever. I listened…and walked away. It wasn’t worth the anger, the tension, the nastiness that would come out of arguing.
Tia and mother did not get along. They fought like cats and dogs. Sometimes the tension in that house was so great I would just stay in my bedroom for awhile…or take Tiana and go somewhere with her. I couldn’t deal with anyone else’s tensions or nastiness. I knew that I was borderline for just snapping. Healing or not…it was a slow process…and I started very low on the ladder.
I love finding me. I loved the life I was building. I loved my friends, my family, my little world. I loved everything with a love that just grew each day as I explored my own limits. I couldn’t believe I had waited so long to find my freedom. And that was what it was…freedom to live, love, laugh, play…just to be me…and not to worry what anyone else thought of me. For the first time in my life….I didn’t give a damn what anyone thought. I lived to please me…and to learn to be the best person I could be. And I loved every minute of it. | |
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3 Comments | |
| Divorced |
Jul 30, 2007 10:26 pm
453 Views | It surprises me to realize, as I write down my story, that the years of my marriage have little impact on me these days. I find it easy to write about and easy to understand lots of the pieces I didn’t understand then. But, as I get closer to my divorce…the last day or so…it has gotten much harder, much more painful to write each word. Some words I never want to say…they were too hurtful then…and they still have power now. I believe I was as fair and honest as I could have been in my divorce…my ex has often said I was…but how much was truth…and how much was wanting something from me? And how fair can I be? These truths still rip at me as I write them…open gaping holes in my reality…and I want to crawl into them and hide. Truth, Miss Ari….always truth…and when you face it…it will free you.
The issues with Tiana seeing the neighbors came to a head one very late night when her father brought her home high and drunk. She was hateful and hurtful…just drunk enough to say whatever she wanted to say without thinking of the consequences. And I was just angry enough to fight back.
It started when she came in and gloated over having been at their house…told me about the booze and drugs and how I couldn’t stop her. And then she sashayed her tiny hiney down the hall into her bedroom. Well, I am not nice when I am mad…and I am willing to take on all comers if you push me far enough. I followed her down the hall and pushed open the door. She shoved it closed against me, accidentally catching my hand in the door. I pushed it open and told her to let me in. Of course, I should have probably let her sleep it off…but…perhaps not.
She started screaming about how I was invading her privacy and she hated me. She screamed at the top of her lungs. My mother went to work at 2 am and there was no way she could sleep through it. I happened to spy a glass of water on the dresser…picked it up…and dumped it on Tiana. Oh Lord and Lady…you’d have thought I killed her. The screaming got worse and worse. She was kicking and hitting me and finally I had to hold her down on the bed and just let her scream.
Mother is not so patient. She came in, mad as hell, and told Tiana exactly what she thought of her…exactly how she was behaving…exactly how she treated me…and exactly what she would do to her if she were me. Tiana didn’t even pause…she called her an effing bitch. I was momentarily stunning, remembering what mother had done the one time I had said anything close to that foul to her. Mother was not…she reached out and slapped Tiana hard. Then she grabbed her hair and slammed her head against the headboard.
I grabbed her away from Tiana and told her to keep her hands off my daughter…but…in lots of ways, it opened a huge door. Tiana screamed for a few seconds and then suddenly deflated into tears…ragged, jagged, hideous tears that came directly from her heart. She cried for more than an hour while I held her. And then…as she slowly drifted off to sleep, she told me stories that I had not known…her experiences with the neighbors. I think I got two hours sleep that night. I cried myself to sleep…frustrated with reality, angry with myself for letting my daughter get caught in this trap…furious with my husband for allowing it to continue…and mad as hell at the neighbors. It’s the one time in my life I thought I could seriously hurt someone.
I won’t say Tiana totally changed overnight; it would be a lie…but the groundwork was laid and we slowly rebuilt our relationship…and even more slowly…her self-esteem. And I will tell you that while Tiana often made life hell in her next three years with me…she was also my best friend…and the most wonderful person I knew/know.
Tiana has a really soft heart. It doesn’t take much to hurt her…and it doesn’t take much to enlist her sympathy for you. I think she gets that from me, but I really wish she hadn’t. It won’t do her any favors growing up.
She went to visit her father fairly often at first, but he didn’t have the money for food and he wouldn’t do anything with her. I sent food with her, so that she would be able to go; but he sat in front of the television set while she was there…and she was bored and lonely and miserable. At home, we often went for drives on the weekends. We found that we both looked forward to just climbing in the car and picking a road to wander as far as we could go on it. We admired houses, watched wildlife, stopped to pick rocks and flowers. It was something we both enjoyed and we did it often.
When her father’s birthday came around, Tiana came to me and asked me to buy him a cake and a gift. I really did NOT want to…but Tiana kept reminding me that he had no one. And finally I gave in and bought him a reasonably nice gift from her…and a cake. I had the words, “Happy Birthday, Butthead” put on it. The baker laughed when I asked for it and assured me she would make it fit just so she could see it. And so, we spent his birthday together…at least an hour or so. I knew it was a mistake…it just gave him hope.
But that hope was soon to end. We were divorced on June 6th.
Prior to the divorce, I asked for full custody of my daughter. He didn’t want to give me custody of her although he’d already told her, “I’m not your father anymore…I’m giving up all my rights to you and the next asshole your mother marries can be your father.”
I didn’t negotiate…I simply made it clear. I would not ask for child support. I would not interfere in the social security checks he got for her. I would not stop him from seeing her whenever he wanted. But, I did not want him to have decision-making rights over her…or give him any residual control over me. I wanted to know that I had the ability to keep her safe. I promised him that if he refused, I would hire an attorney and fight him. Since everything else had been evenly split between us…he really didn’t have anything to use against me…and when he thought about the money…he agreed.
But, my Lady he was a fool in court. The magistrate asked me what I wanted in child support and I told her I wanted nothing. She asked me why I wanted nothing. I said, “I believe my daughter has the right to have a relationship with her father. As low as his income is, if I ask for any money from him, he will not be able to live…and she will be denied that relationship. So, I think it is in the best interests of our daughter that her father not pay child support. I am capable of supporting her.” The magistrate nodded and turned to my husband. “How do you feel about paying child support, Sir?” His answer…”I ain’t giving her no G... Damn child support.” It was a silly mistake to make when the magistrate was already willing to refuse child support. Because of his comment, I was told that any time I changed my mind…all I had to do was send her a letter and she would award child support. I never did. It might have helped sometimes…but it wasn’t worth the fight…and I’d promised I wouldn’t. I meant what I said…Tiana needed her father.
And then...17 and a half years of marriage was simply over. We each walked away just as we had come into the marriage....alone. | |
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0 Comments | |
| Written Words |
Jul 30, 2007 9:57 pm
575 Views | Colors reflected on the walls
From crystal beads
Hanging in the window.
Tiny tinkling tones
Of fragile chimes
Barely brushed by the air
As I leave.
So representative
Of a lifetime in which
I failed to exist.
Your world was never
Meant to be shared.
All the extraneous
Activities of living
Were disallowed.
“You may breathe,
But do not speak.
You may eat,
But do not dine.
You may worship,
But do not love.
Expect nothing of me.
It’s all I have
Available for you.”
Those words were written
In the book of my days;
Living in entombed silence;
Dwelling in a grey mist
Of emptiness.
You cast off all
Who did approach
In friendship or in love;
Rejecting all advances;
Retreating deeper
Into the shell of vacancy
You live there still, my dear.
Not one to recognize
Your life damages
Those who would touch.
As icy winds burn the grasses
Of the arctic tundra.
So do your words
Sear the emotions
Until none are left.
A lifetime of loss
Has no cost;
Not to me.
You emptied me.
Your silences defeated me.
Until I did not need,
Did not share,
Did not even want to care.
Wanted nothing more
Than to find me
Recovered from the room
You locked me in
When it suited you
To have silence
In your huddled world.
You kept the shell
But threw away the girl.
She’s run away, you know?
Did you even see her go
Or are you so immersed
In your rejection
That you see her still?
Delusion often follows will.
Her final words were writ
On the door of your tomb,
“You may breathe,
But do not speak.
You may eat,
But do not dine.
You may worship,
But do not love.
Expect nothing of me.
It’s all that I have
Available for you.” | |
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2 Comments | |
| Try |
Jul 30, 2007 9:34 pm
523 Views | Capture that butterfly
Dancing on drifts
Entrancing her movements
Succumb to her kiss
You need to possess her
Holding her close
A moment’s obsession
No time for remorse
You never intended
Her to be hurt
Her wings to be tattered
Inside of your net
She’s lost something special
Traded it in
For bruises that cover
Her delicate skin
You’ve lost the incentive
Watching her pain
To keep her imprisoned
So you set her free
You couldn’t imagine
She’d want to leave
Without interaction
Without anything
She’d rather be floating
Spiraling down
Exploring the motion
With one of her own
Someone who won’t own her
Leaves her complete
Whose contact enhances
The places she’s weak.
When reaching for passion
Touching the stars
Ensure you remember
Don’t leave any scars. | |
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1 comment | |
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