Ramblings of a Single Mom

Gypsy · Jan 26, 2003

Oh my lord I'm tired...

I have GOT to stop staying up till 4 AM on the phone. Got to. I'm exhausted, and I don't need to get run down again.

Last night while we were talking, Mr. Silent told me he intends to convince me to marry him, someday. I'm terrified of the idea of marriage to ANYONE, and at this point I'm a lot more comfy with the idea of being engaged for several years. I know, that sounds ridiculous. Can't help it, though. I'm such a fraidy-cat.

It's Super Bowl Sunday. I'm praying that means lots of deliveries...and good tips. I need it so bad! I truly need to make up the money lost on replacing my alternator - being completely cashless with no saved reserves scares the crap out of me. If anything else spendy were to go wrong right now... *shudders* Mr. Silent spent nearly half an hour trying hard to convince me to let him send me the money I had to spend on the alternator. Hell no. Maybe someday I'd let him do that, not now. It was incredibly sweet though, because I knew he was worried that I was broke. I'm not used to anyone wanting to take care of me like that. Yeah, the offer made me smile, but I can't let him do that. Someday, he can take care of me. When everything else is fixed and we're physically together, he can take care of me. Until then, though...I'm a stubborn independent little shit.

He got on a national long distance plan, which has me practically dancing. I was feeling awfully guilty for all the hours we spend on the phone, and how much it was costing him. Five hundred dollar phone bills freak me out. Now he pays $49 and tax, and all national long distance is a local call. Way freaking cool. I feel all kinds of better, now.

I'd love to do the same, but I refuse to have a long distance carrier at all. Granted, if I had the national long distance, that would go a long way toward fixing half the reason I chose that option. However, right now it's still cheaper for me to buy a phone card and use it sparingly. It occurs to me though...eventually, someday, I'll be living there with him. And I can call my sister, my friends, anyone I want to...and talk as long as I want. I like that. I'm a talker by nature...but I'm guessing you'd never figured that out.

I have to go get ready for work...damnit. If I don't move fast, I'm gonna be late. Oh, what I wouldn't give to just go back to bed and sleep like the dead for another four hours! I must work up the willpower to tell Mr. Silent that I need to hang up and go to bed by midnight tonight. I desperately need to pay off sleep debt, before I seriously get sick. It's SO hard to hang up that phone - I love talking to him, I love the sound of his voice. He has the sexiest voice I've ever heard, for starters...and I usually really like what he's saying with that voice. We've yet to run out of things to talk about, and that is so cool.

He spent over an hour last night working on convincing me to write that book I said I can't write. I must say, his argument was pretty compelling. I'm thinking about it.

I just can't think for the life of me who would want to buy a book about my life.

Gypsy · Jan 26, 2003

There's a relatively new journal on the boards that I've been reading. It's called My Life On Earth, by Starstruck. I feel a sort of kinship with Starstruck just from reading these few entries, and I found a question in the last post that I wanted to answer. I don't know if you remember, but my good friend Thomas is a pilot, albeit not all the way through his schooling and training. He's great at answering questions and explaining things so that *I* can understand them well, even when I'm clueless about the subject matter. I wrote him a quick email, pasting Starstruck's question to him. As requested, he has replied with a much more detailed (and correct) answer than I could hope to give - although I was on the right track myself. Thanks Tom, you're the best!

Anyway, here it is - A little bit of interesting 'trivia'.

See why I think Thomas is so cool? For starters, he's only 20...oh wait..is he 21 now? Oh my God...Tom, don't shoot me, ok? Geesh, I've lost track. In any case, he's definitely younger than me and he's SMART! Damned smart. Talented, too. He can fly planes, he can write, he can sketch, he's hellacious at games. He does things with computers that almost scare me. Tom is incredible, and I count myself lucky to have his friendship. Especially when he's answering my many questions. *grin* All that and he's good looking. And single, ladies. I know there are girls out there in the appropriate age range.

Starstruck, I'm betting this is a much better answer than what I told you...huh? Thomas rocks.

-Gypsy

Gypsy · Jan 27, 2003

I've had a somewhat disheartening day.

My former (step) brother in law came by today to visit with me before going to his brother's house to help him work on his car. I got a bad feeling about his intentions the last few times we talked, but there just wasn't anything I could put my finger on to point the blame on for that feeling. Just...a feeling. A niggle. I don't want to go through this scenario with him. He's supposed to be family, and he's supposed to be a friend. Granted, I'm single to his knowledge, but he lives with the mother of his baby, and so that makes him coming to my house in the hope of getting a little just plain wrong.

The whole thing just makes me sad.

He showed up with the baby, and I thought at first "Cool, maybe I was wrong." Yeah, we talked about all sorts of things, and he stayed on his side of the room. I didn't join him on the couch, but stayed in my rocker-recliner. It just felt safer. I started to relax, eventually, thinking I'd been just silly to even wonder about his intentions...and then he started trying to put the baby to sleep. My discomfort returned. I kept talking to the baby, not wanting her to fall asleep, because if she did and his plan was to seduce me, then he'd make his move. I'm honest enough to admit that I don't want this to be happening, I don't. I want it to be my imagination, I don't want to deal with this scenario with him the way I've had to deal with untold others. If the baby went to sleep and he made a move, I'd have no choice but to accept and admit what he was thinking, what was happening, rejecting him, and basically pushing him out of my life. I want to be wrong about that feeling, damnit.

She never fell asleep, and my daughter came home from school. Not long after she got there, he went out to his truck to check the cell phone. His brother had called five times wondering where the hell he was - they're supposed to be working on his car! He left a few minutes later.

Nothing happened and nothing was said to confirm my suspicion. That doesn't change the fact that I still have that feeling, and it's a bit stronger. And yes, I'm sad.

His desire to manuever a situation so that he could sleep with me is wrong - he's committed to another. The fact that he wanted his daughter to fall asleep so we could essentially be alone is wrong - and just somehow disrespectful of the child. He seeks to dishonor himself, his girlfriend, his daughter, and me. I'm pretty upset, because this all indicates to me that he does not assign a very high worth to my person. Does that make sense? He thinks it's okay to make me his piece of ass on the side, illicit, a dirty secret. He does not view me with enough respect to just feel I'm above that sort of thing, he feels it's okay to involve me in a clandestine affair where we cheat on the mother of his child.

I'm sick at heart.

Gypsy · Jan 28, 2003

Isn't it cool?

Ok, here's something kinda weird...but in a good way.

Mr. Silent called yesterday, and we talked awhile. During the course of our conversation, he told me he had plans to go to his best friend's house and visit awhile later in the evening. My kids got home from school, I was doing the mom thing while talking on the phone, and I had to keep telling him "Hang on a sec". Finally he says "You go do the mom thing with your kids, I'm gonna head over to Ed's. I'll call you when I get home later." Hey, cool. I cook dinner, make sure Harley does his homework, etc. The kids are finally in bed at 9:30, and I settle down.

Now, Mr. Silent and I have been burning up the phone lines for many days, to the tune of three to seven hours at a time - and this often occurs after 11 pm. We're tired. Really tired. But we can't seem to shut up and hang up the phone.

So here I am, too sleepy to be interested in anything on the computer, and really thinking about how nice bed will feel. However, I know he's going to call, and very soon. It's just going to be less tiring if I'm already awake when the phone rings, rather than going to sleep, waking up, going back to sleep...ya know? So, I settle down on the couch with the remote, intending to watch a little tv to kill time while I wait for my sweetie to call. And then I promptly fall asleep around 10:15 or so. On the couch. The hard, unforgiving couch. Using the couch pillow. The even harder, even less forgiving couch pillow. Oops.

See, night before last I ended up sleeping on the couch. Why? Because he'd called around 11:30 or 12:00, and we stayed on the phone until 5 AM. I was watching the sun come up, and looked at the clock - holy shit! My daughter's alarm went off a few seconds later. For some reason, I didn't want her to know I'd spent the entire night on the phone, so I just laid down and closed my eyes, deciding I'd just look like I fell asleep out here, which does happen on occasion. And promptly fell asleep. I vaguely was aware of the kids up and moving around, getting ready for school and stuff, but wasn't what anyone would call lucid. As soon as Harley was out the door, I went into a very deep sleep, which continued until the phone rang at 10 am or so.

So yeah, I was tired last night, and hurting too. My neck, shoulders, and back always hurt like hell after sleeping on the couch - and all that gives me a nasty headache. I was miserable yesterday, and grateful it was my day off, not a workday.

Anyway, I fell asleep on the couch again. At around 4:10 AM or so, I woke up suddenly. No reason. I just...woke up. Boom! Awake, alert. Well, hell, I'd just had more of a night's sleep than I've been getting for a couple weeks now, so I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. I looked around and thought "Shit, I'm on the couch. Why am I on the couch? Oh yeah, I'm waiting for him to call. Wait, is that the time? Holy shit, he should have called LONG ago. I should go to bed. Screw it, I'm sleepy, I'll stay here." and tried to doze back off. My mind was going by then, though, and I couldn't sleep, I just laid there being lazy with my eyes closed, hoping for extra z's. At 4:25 the phone rang.

It seems that while at his best friend's house, he had a bit to drink and passed out...it was going on 11 when that happened. And then he suddenly woke up, completely alert, at around 4:10 AM. He threw on his shoes and headed home. While in his car driving, he called me to apologize for not calling earlier. He probably wouldn't have done that, but he's aware that I'm aware that A) He's been just as tired as me, if not more so. B) It's about a half hour drive home for him. C) The weather has been icky there, and driving conditions can be treacherous. D) I worry about him falling asleep at the wheel. E) He doesn't want me to worry when he knows that everything is ok.

Isn't that cool?

Now, he wasn't supposed to crash at Ed's, but he did. I wasn't supposed to crash on the couch, but I did. We fell asleep within half an hour of each other. We woke up at nearly the exact same time - goddawful early in the dark hours of the morning - completely alert and thinking about the other. Does anyone else see how neat that is? Stuff like that happens with us all the time.

So, he calls me at around 4:30 to tell me he's okay and to apologize if I was worried - which I did, a little, after I woke up and realized he hadn't called, and knew it had been snowing up there again. Then he calls me back when he gets home, since that's now basically a local call, and the cell phone isn't. And we talk. And talk. And talk. Around 5:15 Alyssa gets up and into the shower. We continue to talk. She finishes getting ready for school and seems weirded out that her mom is awake and on the phone. And we talk. She leaves for the bus stop, and I make coffee. And we talk. I open the blinds so I can watch the sunrise. We keep talking. Harley gets up and gets ready for school, and eventually leaves. Still we're talking, with no sign of running out of conversation or getting bored. It's now 9:00 AM.

He gets a beep, switches over, comes back to say he has to take the call and he'll call me back. When he does, he tells me his daughter is sick and he has to go pick her up from school, take her to his mom's (who babysits her), and hang out with her until time for him to go to work. That's cool, he has to go do the Dad thing. Not a problem. The only reason I even care is, we'd intended to spend the entire day on the phone. Actually, we'd intended that yesterday, he even took the day off work for that very reason...but then my ex step brother in law showed up and stayed until after my kids got home. *sigh*

You know, if you plug a headset into a cordless phone and talk on that, you don't get a sore ear. Plus, your hand and arm doesn't go to sleep from holding the phone up. And you're hands are free to wash dishes, fold laundry, just do whatever mundane thing needs to be done - and there's no crick in your neck as a consequence. It's not the same thing as spending the day together, but since if we were actually physically doing that, we'd be talking our heads off...it kind of is. It's the best we can do under the circumstances, anyway.

You'd think I wouldn't sigh in disappointment for not being able to spend from 9:00 AM until 2 PM on the phone with him - after all, we've already talked for over four hours today. I did, though. Actually, he did too. We're seriously addicted to conversation with one another. Thing is, we always have been. Long before we fell in love with each other, we fell in love with our ability to talk about just any damned thing under the sun for hours. That's why he was my best friend, you know? There wasn't anything I couldn't talk to him about. I could tell him things that were damned hard to talk about, things I couldn't tell anyone else, not even my sister. It's always been that way with us, since we met.

I love our connection, especially now that it's actually connected again. It was the loss of that intense connection that I mourned the most when he was gone from my life. I would have settled for only being platonic friends, if only I could have kept that friendship, that ability to talk to someone the way he and I talk, to be understood and accepted for who and what I really am, the knowledge that the other person instantly picks up on my emotions even when I deliberately keep them out of my voice, that can know from hundreds of miles away that I need him to call, I need to hear his voice, I need to cry on his shoulder.

There is nothing in the world, nothing at all, that compares with knowing that you've found the one person who can see all the bits and pieces of who you really are, understand them, and accept you as you are. Even with my issues, even with my faults and quirks, he loves me exactly as I am. He thinks I'm so cool. He thinks I'm a truly great person. He thinks I'm pretty, I'm smart, and I have a good heart. He trusts me implicitly. He loves me - all of me - not just my smile or my hair or my boobs or the way I dance. He loves my soul. He loves the real ME. Wow.

He said it this morning when we were talking. "I spent my whole life looking for what was missing, and I didn't even know what it was. Even when I married my first wife, and I truly loved her, there was still something missing. When you and I met, it was like coming home. And then I realized - when I'm with you, I don't feel like anything is missing. All the pieces of my puzzle are there, and they actually fit without being forced or leaving gaps. We belong together." Funny thing is, I feel exactly the same way...and he was not repeating back to me something I'd said to him. No, he said it first, I was only thinking it.

When two people can absolutely meet the emotional needs of the other, and that person does the exact same thing for them...then no matter what, they have to find a way to be together.

Don't they?

Gypsy · Jan 28, 2003

an excuse to talk about him some more...

I received this email a bit ago, and I was writing a response to it when I realized that I'd likely get the same question again. So, since it's kind of wordy for a short email, and to keep from typing the same thing a hundred times (ok, that's an exaggerated number, I know I know), I'm posting it here.

We spent not this past weekend, but the weekend before, together. It was our first time laying eyes on each other in a year and eight months. It was the first time in two years that it was appropriate and allowed to say things like "I love you." He was determined to honor his marriage regardless of the reason, and I cannot argue with honor, even when it's breaking my heart.

More than once during that weekend, he told me with tears in his eyes how sorry he was that he'd hurt me, that he loved me, and that if I would just give him the chance, he'd spend the rest of my life making it up to me. He's still saying it.

As for moving, we don't know how we're going to accomplish this, yet. If he moves here, he'll go from making $30 an hour to less than $10 due to the difference in job markets, and he owes more a week in child support than he could make here, for starters. Plus there's the whole not having custody of his daughters and leaving them behind scenario that just isn't acceptable. No, somehow we want to move me and the kids (and my ex, if necessary) up there, where the job market is better, and everyone can have their kids. I don't know how, yet. If this is fated to be, and I'm telling you that it's hard not to see signs of that, then something will occur to make it possible for the kids and I to go.

I can use all the good luck wishes, crossed fingers, good energy, and prayers I can get.

It isn't going to be easy to be patient about this, but I know that I have no choice. He asked me last night "What other options do we have? Break up again? Go back to not talking to each other? I don't know about you, but I need to be able to talk to you, even if all we are is friends. And we both know that the knowledge that the other is seeing someone else is going to crush us, don't we? You spent over a year and a half without dating anyone, because it was me you wanted to be with, and no one else could measure up to what we have. So, what are we going to do? Break up and try to go on without each other because we can't readily see the answer, yet? Or take what we can have, our phone calls, what weekends we can get, while we wait and look for the answer? I know what *I* want to do. What do *you* want to do?"

He's right. As miserable as it is waiting for the right time and opportunity to come along so we can be together at last, ending this relationship just because there's a gigantic obstacle in the way of us being physically together would only cause an astounding measure of pain and misery.

What else can I possibly do, but learn patience?

Gypsy · Jan 29, 2003

I need a sign...

I've been thinking all day long. Thinking while I wash dishes at work, thinking while I drive on delivery. I keep wondering what I've gotten myself into, and if I have the strength to see it through.

My mind keeps turning round and round, trying to look at the situation from every possible angle, positive that I must be missing something. In order to legally move with the kids, I have to have proof that my ex is doing (or not doing) something that would merit the custody case being re-opened. Just wanting to change things based on personal desire, the judge warned me, is not enough. He has closed this case and does not intend to hear another word about it, unless the word is neglect or abuse - or something else similarly important or catastrophic. That leaves convincing the ex to let me take the kids and go.

He won't let the kids go because making big noises about what a good and loving father he is while pointing a finger of blame at ME is how he manipulated people into feeling sorry for him in the first place. It's all about appearances, you know. The truth is, he doesn't really want the responsibility of taking care of the kids. He just wants to be able to beat his chest about it, you know?

So, in order to get him to let me move with the kids, I'll have to convince him to move too. That means I'll have to set him up with a really nice gravy train for awhile - he won't go any other way - if even that will convince him. Mr. Silent and I discussed it a bit, and he's already stated that he'd be more than happy to pay all the bills and completely take care of me and the kids. I could potentially work for the simple purpose of supporting my ex in his own apartment, giving him time to get on his feet. Problem with that is, as soon as he found out the kids and I would be staying with Mr. Silent, he'd lose his mind and refuse to go. He hates Mr. Silent with a deep and frightening passion, after all.

It's a vicious circle. Every idea I come up with to make one facet of the problem resolve ends with 'but that won't work because of THIS' regarding another facet.

I keep wondering if my desire to move up there is just too damned selfish to attempt to fulfill. I mean, sure...I'd be happy. I'd be treated like the most special and loved person on the planet by someone I adore. I wouldn't have to be scared about money so much, although that really doesn't matter all that much to me, to tell the truth. I'm used to being poor, I've had a lifetime of practice. And it's not like Mr. Silent doesn't have bills, it's not like his income is unlimited. It's a better living than I've ever had, but it isn't what I'd call rich. The numbers are bigger than the ones I currently work with, but there's still a need for a budget, and big stuff still has to be saved for.

I keep thinking about the current and coming months of having to keep my relationship with Mr. Silent secret from my ex, and I shudder at the stress of it. I also really suck at lying, have I ever mentioned that? One direct question from him, and all is lost on that count, anyway. The only way I can win at this game of wits and wills is to manipulate and manuever, and I hate that. I'm sure I'm intelligent enough to do it, but it's really not in me to be so dishonest. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth, and frankly, it makes me nauseous.

Would I look at my situation after being there awhile, and find I had made a mistake? If making this move really is a mistake, can I live with it? After all, it isn't just me I'm talking about here, it's my kids. AND their dad. What right do I have to make this choice for everyone, simply because I desire to be with one particular man?

I keep wondering what I'm supposed to do. After all, the only people who aren't content are myself and Mr. Silent. The kids are okay with living here, even if they don't pariticularly jump for joy over having two addresses. Their father bitches about how he can't make a decent living in this town, yet if I try to talk to him about moving away, he's too busy making excuses about why he can't to even hear - he's scared.

My daughter made me watch a video with her the other day - the newest one by Pink. It ripped my heart out, and the guilt is killing me. I think her telling me how much she identified with that song is the closest she's ever come to just flat out telling me how she feels about the divorce and having her family torn apart. I can't blame her for feeling that way, I honestly can't. I thought I had long since come to the point where I stopped feeling guilty, and yet here I am feeling nearly as guilty today as I did three years ago when it first happened. She has also informed me that, should I try to move away, she would willingly go with me if I would wait until school let out, but that her brother has emphatically stated to both her and their father that he wants to live with Dad. I cannot leave here with only one of my children.

I can only bring myself to leave if I have both kids. I can't take the kids unless I convince their dad to let me. The only way to convince him to let me take them is if he goes, too. The only way he'll do that is if I guarantee him a place to stay, basically expense free, for a really long time. Mr. Silent has stated that the Ex cannot live under his roof - understandable. I have a strong suspicion the only way the Ex would go is if I were living in my own place and allowing him to stay there with me - which is what I offered him the last time the scenario were considered. I would have had my own place, and I promised him my couch for several months if he'd only come up there and TRY to make a new life. I told him flat out that we'd not be together, that he'd have a place to eat, sleep, and wash his clothes...but that I'd give him a chance to get a job and get on his feet before I asked him to move into his own place. Now, I really don't want the Ex living with me, I never did - but I was that desperate to stay where I was, you know?

This time, the person I'd be going to live with wouldn't just be a friend. This alone would be extremely bad, in the eyes of my ex. The fact that it is Mr. Silent pretty much guarantees that the Ex will shut it all down in an instant.

If I had a way of going up there with enough money to move into my own place and offer the ex what I offered before, I'd do it. I'd give him six months to be in his own place, and I'd live in a hellish purgatory for that six months. Once the six month mark had passed, I'd tell him to get his own place. If he refused, I'd simply have my name taken off all the utilities and the rent, and move out myself, leaving him there alone.

The Ex has many, many skills when it comes to the job market, believe it or not. I'd suggest to him that he get his GED before he come up there, and get on at one of the factories. Once you're hired on the line, you can sign up for one of the apprenticeship programs. If you pass the IQ (type) test they give you, they'll send you to school to learn all you need to know for your particular trade of choice. They pay for the courses and books, all you have to do is attend. Apprentices make pretty darned good money, especially compared to anything the Ex has been making for the fifteen years I've known him. After a certain number of hours as an apprentice, you eventually make journeyman, and that journeyman's card is a fine thing to have. As either apprentice or journeyman, you have really good insurance and other benefits, and make damned good money. I would be suggesting to the Ex that if he were to work a job such as this for a few years and budget himself well, he could accomplish his current dream of buying out a dry cleaners/laundry, and carrying the title of owner/operator. Actually, I think it would be really cool for him to be able to do that. I can just see the look on his face, and the faces of those he knows here, if he were to return to town after five years or so, carrying enough cash to actually buy the cleaners he's been working for these last ten years. He's damned near built the place a couple times over. There isn't a piece of machinery there that he can't take apart, fix, and put together again. He has all the contacts he'd ever need to buy parts and supplies. He knows all the customers he'd ever need in town. He'd need to hire an accountant to take care of all the books, but the rest of it he could do easily.

Me? I'd like to spend my life being happy. I'd like to be able to go back to school without worrying about how I'm going to be able attend class, do homework, pass tests, and still work enough to pay the bills on time while taking care of two growing kids, and still manage to be an attentive mother who helps with homework, listens to her kids, cooks meals, cleans house, and keeps the laundry done. Mostly, though, I'd just like to be able to spend the rest of my life being accepted for who I am, cared for and about, believed in, loved, adored. And gee, wouldn't it be great? Wouldn't it be just fucking awesome to have all of that...and be able to return it, too?

How the hell am I going to get from point A to point B? But really, here is the scary question...

Am I even supposed to be trying to do all this? What am I even doing? Am I really in love with Mr. Silent, or am I in love with the idea of being in love, because I was in love with him before? Is he really my destiny?

What if he isn't my One? What if I'm being a selfish greedy person, and I'm fucking with the lives of four other people for my own selfish desires? What if my real destiny is actually right here in this town?

The real bitch is...if it were just me, if there were no kids to consider...there wouldn't be a doubt in my mind. *sigh*

Catch 22.

Gypsy · Jan 30, 2003

I know, I know...

I can't seem to make up my mind whether I'm deliriously happy or scared and depressed. You think it's driving YOU crazy? Imagine how crazy I feel, right now. And it's only going to get worse as time goes on.

I said yesterday that if it were just me, if there were no kids to consider, there'd be no doubt in my mind. That is *so* true. If I didn't need to consider all the needs of my children, lots of things would be different, though. If when I left the Ex I had had no children...wait a minute.

If I'd had no kids, I'd have left him back in 1990. Things would be incredibly different. To tell the truth, I'm not even certain I'd have met Mr. Silent at this point. It makes me wonder what that alternate life might have been like. Twenty-one years old, divorced again, still no kids. Where would I have gone from there? What would I have accomplished? Hmmm... I think the first thing I'd have done is search for somewhere to live - meaning I'd have likely looked for family to turn to for awhile. I'd have gotten myself back into college somehow. I'd likely be doing something using the written word for a living, by now. I don't know if I'd be happy, but I'd definitely be different.

I can't discount everything that happened with my Ex, though. I learned a lot of painful and difficult lessons from him, but learning those lessons played a large part in showing me that I had the ability to heal from my childhood, if I would just look at things differently, if I stopped believing that I had to carry anger and hatred, I could feel better. You see, it's hard to give that part up. Everytime someone said "You have to forgive and move on, put the past in the past where it belongs, stop carrying it around with you" I'd get anry with them. I felt like if I did that, the people who had hurt me will have gotten away with it. How can you do stuff like what was done to me, and get away with it so cleanly that the person you harmed doesn't even hold a grudge? Unthinkable!!

It was in part through my ex that I learned that my grudges, my anger, my bitterness, pain, hatred and scorn...they weren't punishing those who'd hurt me. Not at all. In fact, the only person all that crap was hurting was ME. I had this huge black hole inside of me, where nothing good could live. If a ray of sunshine tried to creep inside my heart and soul, I'd do everything in my power to squash it, without actually meaning to. I was so busy keeping the negative alive and fresh, that nothing positive could plant and grow. Dear God, the years I've wasted! All the time I spent in self pity and bitterness, I could have tried to have a little bit of happiness along the way. Most people don't start carrying emotional baggage until they're at least in their twenties. Not this girl. Nuh-uh, not me. I started early. I placed a chip on my shoulder way back in early grade school, and I left it there. Every year it got bigger, heavier. And the more resentful I became of the chip (which became a boulder), the harder it was to just set it down. And you know something? It positively amazed me when I finally understood that the only one who could make it all better was me. It floored me to finally grasp the concept that the only one who could take away the burden was me. It was so hard, so hard! And yet, all I had to do was...put it down. Put the load down.

Where my ex is concerned, I'd love nothing more than to just put this burden down. I mentally and emotionally beg for the moment when I can finally let down my guard, relax, and just allow forgiveness to be the only thing remaining. I wish I could. I want to, but I can't. Every single time I get to that point, he starts thinking "Oh, she's softening up! If I try really hard now, she'll come back to me!"

It doesn't matter how many times I tell him "Never." It doesn't matter that I forgive him...I don't forget, and I'll never trust. I can't help that. Healing and forgiving doesn't mean your memory is wiped out. Forgiving someone doesn't mean you have to invite them back into your life to hurt you some more. It only means you lay the burden of the past down. Every time I do that, he forces me to pick it back up.

Mr. Silent and I seem to be revisiting a lot of pain. It hurts him when I mention something I did or felt in the past two years, and he kind of feels like I'm trying to punish him. I'm not, though. The truth is exactly as I've told him: That two years does not now un-exist simply because he wants it to. Sorry. It's a very real part of my life, and many things happened. A lot of what I did, said, or felt is because of our separation and why that separation occurred...and how he handled it. I tried to be brave. I tried to be strong. I tried to be mature. Often I succeeded, too. I know in the past few months I felt like I finally had a grip on it, and was ready to move on. Hence my joy at realizing I actually wanted to date Dodge, you know? I'd finally gotten to the point where I could actually think about another guy, and that meant I'd finally reached a place inside of me where I could live again.

And damned if he didn't come right back into my life, damned near the minute that happened. As a matter of fact, every single time I've gotten to a major turning point in my emotional healing where he's concerned, *poof!* there he is again. It's like he knew. Some things are just too coincidental not to be a little scary. Even when the connection was broken, I think it was still there and working. I'll never EVER get away with lying to him, even if I practice a good poker face. He'll feel it in his soul.

I sometimes have dreams that stay with me in vivid detail, and I know they are going to occur in some way. I keep hoping I'll wake up one morning, and realize I've just had a dream where my Ex tells me "Go to him, and be happy. I can't make you happy, and I see that. The only way I can make you happy is to let you go to the one who can. So go."

The only way I'm ever going to be able to be with Mr. Silent without a lot of sincere drama, craziness, negativity, pain and suffering, is if the Ex wil just set me free. I pray for it, every day.

If only the Ex's insistence that he loves me more than he's ever loved anyone were really true. If he truly loved me, he'd let me go. I wish I could say I believe he ever loved me with the kind of love I know to exist. I know he did not. Still, I pray.

Please. Please, Henry. Set me free.

I'm begging you.

Gypsy · Feb 3, 2003

I am *so* tired

This has been the weekend from hell. Well, sort of. Work was a nightmare. We had a combination of things going on:

It was the first of the month. All the welfare, social security, disability (and so on) checks were in hand.

Our new kickass coupons hit the mail on Friday morning.

It's tax return time.

Oh my God, were we ever busy. Friday night I worked 5 to close, and I ran my self silly the entire time. I never got a break, and I never got to slow down. That's seven and a half hours of stress and pressure. Talk about tiring. Last night was even worse, somehow. I close on Friday nights, then open on Saturday mornings. I hadn't had much sleep when I went in, was suffering an awful headache, and just plain didn't feel like being there. I was scheduled 11-7, but ended up working until 8:30 - straight through, no break. I was worn out and quite cranky by the time I left. When I did clock out, a co-worker that I happen to like was sitting in another co-worker's car (who happens to be her best friend), crying her eyes out. She's going through the breakup of a long term relationship, and he'd called her at work and upset her terribly. She had no car, and nowhere to go. Naturally, I brought her home with me, and we ended up talking about all sorts of things until around 2:30 this morning. Oh, and we both had to open today. Yeesh, I'm tired. No, wait. Tired is a very lame word. Exhausted doesn't even cover it. I'm simply bone weary.

I managed to stay on the phone with Mr. Silent until 4 AM Saturday morning, by the way, knowing better all the while. I'd been going through this horrible period of freaking out about the situation we're in, and thinking "I can't handle this. I can't, I can't I can't." Naturally, he picked up on that, and asked me Friday afternoon before work what was wrong. He shouldn't ask if he doesn't want the blunt truth, I guess. I told him what was on my mind, and he panicked. He was in his car on his way to work, and I all but said "I'm breaking up with you." He asked me if that was what I was doing...and I never actually answered the question. He was in a funk all night long, scared he was losing me and I'd just refused to actually say the words out loud. We agreed he'd call me Friday night (wee hours of saturday morning), about the time I expected to get home from work, and talk some more.

And then I wasn't home yet when he called. There were three messages on my machine. His number was on my ID five times. His last message on the machine broke my heart. I don't know how to explain how desolate his voice sounded, I only know how it affected me.

"I don't know what I did wrong Baby, but I'm really sorry. I love you. Goodbye..."

and then a soft click. I picked up the phone and called him back, even though it was three in the morning, for him. I got his machine and left a message, telling him that I was home from work, that he'd been on my mind all night, that I'd talk to him the next day, and that I loved him. Ten minutes later, my phone rang.

The instant I said hello, I knew what he was feeling. His voice when he said "Hi" confirmed it. He was sick at heart, to the point of physical. He was scared. He was waiting for that other shoe to drop. In fact, a few minutes later he actually begged me to just say the words and get it over with, tell him, just tell him, just do it. It wasn't until that moment that I was sure that I wasn't breaking up with him.

I knew I was freaking out about everything that can and will likely happen with my ex when he finds out Mr. Silent is back in my life. I was freaking out because I know firsthand what it is to miss him, to be separated by so much distance for such long periods of time. I know how difficult this will be at best, and what hell it will be in all likelihood. I was freaking out because I've been a bit obsessive with 'us' since our weekend together, and I've allowed it to take over bits of my life. I haven't been as attentive to my daily life and what needs done as I should be, and I feel guilty - and scared. Such behavior is ultimately destructive, and I jolly well know it. I've worked too hard to reach where I am, the last thing I need is to lose my hold on control of my life, because I can't think about anything but us and finding a way to be with him. I was freaking out because the only answers I can currently come up with to achieve that goal require secrecy, manipulation, dishonesty. It doesn't sit well, and I know that I refuse to do it. I also know that should I even try it, it would blow up in my face. I have the intelligence to play mind games. What I don't have is the stomach for it.

And yet all through these conversations with him both Friday afternoon and in the wee hours of Saturday morning, all I could sense from him was incredible fear and loss...and the deepest and truest love I've ever sensed in anyone - much less for ME.

I fear what is to come, but I feared going through it all for nothing even more. As long as there was the tiniest speck of doubt in my mind as to the solidity and validity of his feelings for me and his committment to our relationship...I couldn't let myself let go. I was holding on to my wall, my safety net, my self-protection. I was refusing to let myself completely trust him, trust any of this to be real or solid. It's all been a ghost, haunting me. It's all been a dream, showing me what my heart desires. Ghosts go back into hiding, and dreams disappear upon awakening.

I have worried that what he says he feels for me is only temporary, a rebound, a reaching out for the love I once gave to him because he needed to feel loved. I have worried that after awhile, he'd slowly start to realize that what he felt was more akin to temporary infatution than to truly deep and abiding love. I have worried that if I allowed myself to let go of all reservation, allowed myself to feel the full measure of love that I once felt for him, that I'd be burned again - only this time it would be even worse. I've been much more afraid that he never loved me as much as I loved him, before, than I realized.

You see, I've come to realize that I deserve and desire to be loved exactly the way I loved him, before. Nothing less will do. I had doubts that he loved me the same way I loved him, but I hadn't admitted that - not even to myself - until recently.

Something he said in passing during a conversation on Thursday night struck me hard, and broke my heart. "I'd forgotten how easily we talk about absolutely everything under the sun. I'd forgotten how well we communicate even when we're upset." That might not sound like much of anything to anyone else, but it cut me to the core. You see, our ability to to converse about anything and everything for hours upon hours on end without getting bored or running out of things to say, our ability to communicate anger, pain, joy, love, to discuss everyday problems and bounce ideas off one another...all this is what made us US. This ability is and was the very core of our relationship. And he'd forgotten. He'd forgotten us. He'd forgotten me.

I never forgot. Not for a second.

So I woke up Friday with a heavy and angry heart, wondering what in the hell I was doing in the middle of this mess. What was I doing? Was I insane to willingly put myself through all the tension, stress, lonliness and heartache - for a man who had never loved me nearly as much as I'd loved him? I had to be! I began contemplating the changes in our relationship, from this time to the last. I compared everything I could see was even the slightest bit different, and all evidence pointed to "He truly loves me." Yet, I was still afraid to believe. Self protection mode was gearing up hard. My hoe was at the ready.

And then I heard the broken and hollow voice of a man in incredible pain. I literally felt the loss he was feeling. He was completely devastated to realize I was thinking of 'getting rid of him', as he so aptly put it. It was in that moment that I melted. I knew that he honestly did love me every bit as much as I loved him. You see, the measure of the pain is the measure of the love.

I still don't know how we're going to ever end up being able to physically be together, and build a life we both dream of. No clue. I only know that I now realize that he loves me, and he believes in us. Those sweet things he says to me...he really does mean them. He continually spoils me emotionally, telling me all the ways he loves me. It's only now that I finally believe that he means it, they aren't just pretty words.

I've thrown down my hoe. My wall is nothing but rubble. And God help me...my safety net is gone. The obstacle that keeps us physically apart is still very much there, and I still see no way around it. I'm simply playing a waiting game, right now, hoping that Fate doesn't hate me after all, and will step in and lend a hand. I'm calm, and I'm happy.

I have never felt so emotionally content, sated, and secure in all of my life. If it's this good when we're this far apart...can you imagine how good it's going to be when we can actually reach out and touch each other anytime we want to?

If this really is just a very long dream, I don't ever want to wake up. If I'm in a coma, dreaming, and he and I aren't really doing this, I don't ever, ever want to wake up. I can die happy, now.

Gypsy · Feb 4, 2003

I have been livid all day long.

I mentioned my journal awhile back to a couple of people at work that I liked, considered friends, and trusted. I never told them the site, the name of my thread, or any real specifics - only that I'd begun writing one in the hopes of working out some of my frustrations, my issues, my occasional anger 'on my own'. Those aren't the only things I wish to write about, of course, but...well, I've had a lot to deal with for a long time. It's good to look for avenues of working out my inner issues without troubling the people in my life, if I can. Right? Besides, although I sincerely suck at it, I truly enjoy writing.

I enjoy having my journal, I really do. It's the best friend that I call to tell secrets to in the middle of the night. It's me - good, bad, and ugly. It's the first time I've ever had the luxury of having something private and (semi) secret, that wasn't a shameful secret, you know? Being abused and molested is a shameful secret. This is something positive, something good for me. I may not want the people I interact with in my physical world reading it, I may desire my anonymity in that fashion, but I am not ashamed of what I write here. In fact, almost every subject I've written about here, people already know. If they're family (or ex-husbands), they *know* most of it firsthand. If they're co-workers I've ever trusted, then they know the basics of some of my past. They certainly know what I think of whom around work, because I don't exactly hide my feelings well, even when I want to.

Anyway, I mentioned that I have a journal, that I really enjoy it, and that sometimes I write about work stuff here. A couple of people asked for the link, they want to read it. I told them "No." You see, I know it's posted on the internet for the 'world' to see. I'm aware that this is a public forum. I'm also aware that I'll never get to meet any of you, even should I come to desire it. The purpose of my choosing this forum to write in is simple, really.

I wanted somewhere that I wasn't likely to be found by anyone I know, for starters. A site about improvisation? Hah. Who in the hell that knows me would EVER look here?? The benefits to writing in a public forum are many. You get to read the journals of others, and make friends with a chosen few. You get to find people in the world that you admire and respect that you would never have had the opportunity to find out exist, otherwise. You get a lot of feedback and encouragement - often just when you need it most, and aren't finding it anywhere else in your life at all. Especially when you find it difficult to trust people, even when you trust them. It's just hard to get close to anyone new. And besides, I've been doing the Tough Woman thing in order to survive for the past couple of years, and that makes people think I'm really standoffish and disdainful of them. I have had a chip on my shoulder when it comes to men, albeit I haven't exactly become a Man Hater or anything. When I do get to know a male and discover that they're a good person, someone I can truly like and respect, I feel the urge to settle into a nice comfortable relaxed relationship like I would with one of my female friends, and that weirds them out. You see, I like to 'adopt' brothers, so to speak...and they usually reciprocate by either becoming uncomfortable and backing away, or by letting themselves believe that there is a possibility of sex.

God how I hate that. And I hate it that I keep letting myself become that fond of anyone. I really should find a way to fix that Daddy Figure and Brother Figure complex, huh?

Ok, so I'm rambling. Don't say I never warned you about my rambling, damnit. I did. It's right there in the title. Go ahead, check it, I'll wait. See? Told ya. Now quit making faces at me.

I love my journal for all its aspects. We've all got that, right? Same page? Good. Now, turn.

Apparently someone at work has suddenly taken umbrage with the fact that I have an online journal, and I won't let them read it. Today I gave a coworker a ride to work, and went in to pick up my paycheck. MIKE (yeah, that's you Mike) went into his office to get my check, and while there he asked me "What can you tell me about this website I've been hearing about, this journal?" Well, what else was I going to say? "It's my journal, Mike." He showed me in the company handbook's policy guidelines that disclosure of confidential information is grounds for immediate dismissal. I told him that when I write about something at work, it's always something I've witnessed myself, or discussed myself. I don't tell rumor-mill gossip. Also, I don't use last names. I've never named our store. I've never named our town. I'm not positive, but I *think* I've never named our state. I know in my profile I'm listed as "Somewhere in the Bible Belt". I don't write under my real name, although a select few of you know my first name.

He wanted the link. I said no.

I told him that if he could find it, he could read it, and then if he had a problem with anything I'd written, he could tell me. This made him angry. "Why would I DO that? Why would I waste my time..."

"Exactly. Exactly, Mike."

"If you have nothing to hide, then why don't you just give me the link?"

"Because it's my personal journal, Mike. You demanding the link is exactly the same to me as demanding I go home, get my diary, and bring it here for you to read. It's my personal journal, Mike."

He told me that if I won't give him the link, then he's calling Bianca to set up a meeting about it. I began to shake. I wasn't afraid, I'm not afraid of him, I'm not afraid of Bianca, and I'm not afraid of losing my job. Yes, I need my job. But by God, I will not be bullied like this. No, I was shaking because I was furious. I was enraged. I was insensed. I simply could not BELIEVE he was trying to strongarm me about my journal! If I've ever proven anything to Mike, it has to be that I'm honest and that honor and my word MEAN SOMETHING TO ME. When I told him I'd told nothing that would reflect badly on Corporate, he should believe me. When I told him it was my pesonal experiences, he should have let it go. When I told him I'd protected our store by not naming us or our location, or giving last names, he should have let it go. If he was worried I'd said bad things about him, he should have asked. I'd have told him the truth.

I was so very angry when I left, I slammed the back door. I didn't slam it deliberately, but I was so furious...it just kind of happened. Our back door automatically locks when you shut it. I slammed it so hard that it bounced back open about three feet. I was embarrassed by my obvious display of emotion, but I couldn't help it. It has taken me all day to calm down about it. Every time I think about it, I get angry all over again. I can't believe Mike is going to be like this, treat me this way, shit on me like this. Yeah Mike, that's how it feels. I work damned hard for you, you know that? I don't appreciate the idea of having to add you to the list of people that has crapped all over me. I like being able to respect you, damnit, and you're screwing with that. You're screwing with my serenity, Mike. Don't screw with my serenity. I don't have nearly enough of it as it is.

Don't make an enemy of me, Mike. I can promise you, you won't like it. Just because I'm sweet and considerate by nature doesn't mean I don't have a streak in me a mile wide, Mike. I may not like head games, but make no mistake, I have a stubborn streak. I will never willingly give you this journal. You'll have to find it on your own. Fire me if you must. You will not bully me.

You took entirely the wrong tact with this, Mike. YOU'RE being childish by demanding the link, I'm not being childish by writing it. Don't agree? That's okay. Here. I'll give you the number of the counselors and shrinks who have recommended that I keep a daily journal of my life, and that I could also benefit from things like Help Lines. You see, on a Help Line, you don't know the person you're talking to. You've never met them, you never likely will. You can't see what they look like. They listen to you, and sometimes they offer really good advice. Often though, they just listen, and you know you were heard. You were heard and you weren't laughed at, called crazy or stupid. My journal gives me all of that. How dare you try to take it away from me? ESPECIALLY by bullying?

I'm sorely disappointed in you, Mike. And I'm horribly disappointed in the person who brought this to you as an issue. How hurtful.

Gee, did I name enough names? I'm sorry. I'll try harder next time.

Gypsy · Feb 4, 2003

Another day in the life...

At 9:52 AM today, Mike called me at home, and asked me to meet with him at 2 PM. I agreed.

When I arrived, he asked me to read a write-up and sign it. This form stated that it had come to his attention that I'd been keeping an online journal, wherein I disclose confidential information about work. By signing, I would be agreeing that I have been doing something wrong, breaking company policy. It stated that I must stop writing in my journal immediately, and provide proof that I had done so. Naturally, the only way to prove this would be to give the link to Mike.

I said No. I refused to sign, because I won't promise to quit my journal, I won't give him the link, and I don't feel I have been doing anything wrong. I have divulged no secrets. Everything I have written about work can and HAS been discussed among employees, and between employees and their friends and family. Other than telling specific incidences and conversations I have taken part in, stuff that has already been discussed by myself and others outside of the store, I have simply told my feelings and views. And after all, there's that whole 1st Amendment thing.

I was fired.

Gypsy · Feb 5, 2003

Thank you. All of you.

Thank you, everyone. Minou, Sugar-Snit, Stanley, Cadhla, Oldlady, smsj, Black James Kid, Lady A, Junie, deez, Dan Telfer, brown_eyed_girl, Suicid256, Yonphi, ktthequeen, Starstruck, Lull, No_Key_Bandit, Wenchie, Qsara...and to those who have tried to leave a message and my inbox is full because I haven't had time to sort my messages yet....thank you so much! (tardis357 - I've cleared my inbox. Sorry about that. It took me so long to make room because I've been on the phone with Mr. Silent for two and a half hours.)

I have received so many pm's and emails since my last post, and every single one of them were filled with hugs, moral support, and advice. I don't mind telling you, I'm grateful for them. I've really needed them, today. You people are just so damned wonderful to me...and you just don't know how much it means.

Oh and by the way, there were lots of "get a lawyer and sue" messages. Just thought I'd let you know:

I stopped at my lawyer's office within 7 minutes of leaving the store. He obviously doesn't really want the case (he told me it would be a $1500 retainer fee - bullshit on that), but he gave me the number to our state's Commission of Rights. It so happens that it's not about the right amendment for them to hold jurisdiction, so I have to find a private lawyer. I will be looking around for a mean sunofaBITCH. I have my fingers crossed that I can find one who just wants to tear into someone for the right reasons, and would be willing to only collect if I did. I don't know that I'll find that around here for this particular case, but if everyone crosses their fingers at once...

Dan Telfer, I loved your idea. Even though it would never actually go beyond your pm and into action (I could never ask such a thing of everyone, after all), I LOVED it. It felt awesome to me that you'd even think such a thing, much less write it down and send it to me. Wouldn't it be cool if that really happened, though? I'd LOVE to be able to hire a mean nasty GOOD lawyer! Thank you so much for that message. If it had been written on paper, I'd have hugged it to my heart and cried on it.

One last thing, and I hope to heaven this doesn't freak anyone out. I have just cut and pasted all those pm's into wordpad, to save on my hard drive. You see, I got an email telling me someone tried to send a pm and my inbox was full, and I want to be able to go back and read those pm's later, when I'm feeling down and frustrated, and starting to lose hope and confidence. The times will come, I've no doubt, and that list of pm's from all of you available for re-reading will make a difference, all over again. I intend to do the same with the emails I received, for the same reason. Please, no one get upset with me about this. I won't post them. I just want to save them. OK?

Now then, on to the 'regular' post.

My mind has been battling itself all day long. When I got that call from Mike, I suspected what was going to happen, but I tried hard to believe the best - that he'd thought it over, and he knew he could trust me, and he was taking back what he'd said before. I knew better, but I really wanted to believe, you know? I wanted to believe that once you've proven to someone that you can be trusted to tell them the truth, that's all that's needed. I really wish that were the case.

It's not that I valued my delivery job so much, I've had better jobs, that's for sure. It's that it took me five months to find that one, and I wasn't goofing around about the looking. It's that I have two kids who seriously depend on me, because their dad kind of sucks at coming up with money for stuff like clothes, shoes, haircuts, school pictures, jerseys for ball teams...stuff like that. I averaged it a couple of times. What he nets in two weeks roughly balances to what I was making in two weeks after you add wages and tips together. We make (made) about the same amount of money. We pay about the same amount in rent and utilities. In fact, I probably pay more for phone service than he does. When my car breaks down, I dig into my savings and fix it. He wonders where I get the magic money from. When the kids need something and I dig into the savings and pay for it, he wonders where I get the magic money from.

Right now, I'm wondering where I'm going to get the magic money from.

Everyone has money problems. I'm not the first single parent to lose a job. I'll surive this as I've survived so many other things. My guilt though...I'm hoping I don't have to suffer with that for too long. You see, I'm well aware that I could have taken the option of giving up my journal to keep that job, so I could continue to support my kids. When things get especially tight around here, my kids are going to be resentful. I know it's coming.

I hope I can bear it, knowing that I've willingly brought it on myself..on all of us. All because I refuse to be bullied, I refuse to compromise my beliefs and principles for money.

Keep on wishing me luck. Thanks.

I'm still shaking my head in awe, and trying not to cry over the huge amount of moral and emotional support I've received here. It just amazes me. Between all of this and Mr. Silent calling me something like 8 times today to check on me...I feel so loved tonight. It's indescribable. My heart has never felt this warm.

Thank you again.

Love,
Gypsy

Gypsy · Feb 5, 2003

Oh yeah, and one more thing...

From this moment on, Mr. Silent will once again be referred to by his original name.

The One.

Thank you. Goodnight everyone. Please close the curtains and lock the door on your way out.

:love: :love:
:blush:

Gypsy · Feb 6, 2003

It feels like it's been a month since I've written here, and I don't know why. I feel so removed from what's happened and what's happening in my life. I feel numb.

I didn't get to accomplish anything today, because my kids were home on a snow day. It started snowing sometime after I went to bed last night, and it has yet to stop. For all of that, we haven't accumulated more than a few inches, and at this point we're expecting school to be in session tomorrow. I hope so. I woke to the sound of screaming and fighting this morning, and that did absolutely NOTHING good for my mood for the day. It was all I could do to maintain my calm and not be a bitch. I guess I kind of had to shut that part of me down just because I knew that not only would my kids be here all day, but other kids would, too. It was impossible to find a moment of peace to use the phone, and I didn't dare leave them here alone.

I decided to set my sights on accomplishing more tomorrow, and stayed in my pajamas.

I didn't call any lawyers, but I did manage to browse through the current job selection listed with my state's employment site. There were all of two jobs that I was the least bit interested in, and I have to go to the Career Center on the other side of town to apply. So, that's on my agenda for tomorrow. And calling lawyers. And something else, but for the life of me, I can't remember what, right now.

My kitchen is destroyed, and I just can't bring myself to clean it tonight. I'll see it when I'm making coffee in the morning and cringe, and I won't be able to help myself - I'll start cleaning it before I ever start the coffee brewing. There are better ways to start the day than facing a messy kitchen, but there are worse ways to start the day than to be productive, too.

I'm disgusted with myself for changing out of my pajamas to take a bath, then putting on clean pajamas...and never getting dressed and going outside. Ugh. Not a happy lazy day, even...just a day spent rebelliously in my pj's, trying to eat myself into oblivion. It didn't work, by the way. I stopped eating around 4 in the afternoon, completely annoyed with myself. Mostly I ate a ton of muffins. My daughter can't seem to stay home on a snow day without baking. Damn but she's cool for a 12 year old, ya know? We had banana nut muffins (the mini kind) and strawberry/blueberry mix. Notice I said 'had'? No, I did NOT eat them all by myself. I simply ate way too many.

Yes, I had a depressed and numb day. But you know something? Tomorrow is going to be different. Tomorrow, I won't let it get me down. Tomorrow I'll come up fighting, ready for another round. Tomorrow, I'm calling Corporate.

Damnit. I just found out school is cancelled for tomorrow. No matter, if I need to I'll ask Shirley (not her real name) to come and get my two for a playdate with her two at her house for a couple hours. I know if I ask she'll do it.

After all, that's what friends are for.

You know, I'd been just about to click 'submit reply', when I changed my mind and came back. I have something to say.

I found out something last night that upset me terribly, and it has had a lot to do with my depression today. I found out who was complaining to Mike about my journal, causing Mike to get angry, thinking I'd trashed him or our company.

I didn't find out from anyone at work, either. I found out from a third party, someone who knows both this person and myself, and socializes with both of us. I found out from Dale.

You see, it turns out that JOHN came to Dale (not his real name) some time last week, asking him if he knew about my journal. Dale said to him "Yeah, I know she keeps a diary." John asked him if he knew where it was. Dale said no, he didn't. John told Dale he wanted to know what was in it, he wanted to read it. John then asked Dale if he'd find out from me where I keep the diary, and tell him. Dale told him Hell No, he wouldn't do it. Dale told John it was none of his fucking business what was in my diary.

I listened to this news with my jaw on the floor. I'd never suspected John. After all, he hasn't even been mentioned here...has he? I don't think so, anyway. He and I have never had a single cross word. Not one. And then I got to thinking.

About two or three weeks ago, I'd been talking to Sarah, a friend at work, just before we opened the store for the day. John was sitting there, at the time. She asked me about my boyfriend, and I briefly told her a bit about he and I, and then told her that mostly I just write about him in my journal, since it's less likely my stalking ex husband would find out about him that way. She asked me if I was still writing in it, and I said yes...it's often what keeps me sane. I tell my journal my frustrations and anger, instead of yelling at people at work...or at my kids...or at whomever.

And John said he wanted to read it. I laughed, and told him No Way. He asked why not, and I told him "John, this journal has stuff in it I wouldn't want anyone in my life to ever read. It's very personal. No one, not even my sister or my boyfriend has the link. No one will EVER be given the link. Strangers can read it, and that's okay - I don't have to face them. No one I know needs to know all that stuff." He pestered me for a couple of minutes, and I assumed he was just kidding, aggravating me about it, to cut up. I told him if he could find it, more power to him...and good luck - he'd need it. He told me "I'll do a search and find it." I said Okay, you do that. And again, good luck. I told him I don't write under my real name, I don't name last names, the store, the town, or the state. He told me (nodding his head) "I'll find it, don't you worry. I'll get it."

And then he asked Dale.

And then he went to Mike.

So you see, I lost my job over my journal due to nothing more than nosiness. Nothing else. It wasn't even done because of a grudge, it wasn't even done because someone was pissed at me. Sheer nosiness about something that didn't even affect them.

That son of a bitch.

Gypsy · Feb 8, 2003

I'm hesitant to write...but here I am.

I ended up in an insane argument with the lady at HR. I say it was insane, because she kept asking me the exact same questions over and over, and expecting different answers. It was just like the arguments I used to have with the Ex. Coincidentally, it was also just like the arguments I had with the Ex's attorney during our custody battle, when he had me on the stand. He got really perturbed at me, because no matter how many different ways he phrased the same exact question, I answered it the exact same way. He got plenty irritated at me when I finally just had enough and said "Look FirstName, you can ask me the same questions another fifty times using different words and phrasing, if you want. It's not going to matter, it's just going to make us all really late getting out of here. The answer is still going to be the same. Why don't you move on to the next question?" Perhaps he thought I wasn't intelligent enough to realize what he was up to, I don't know. Oh, and the FirstName thing? That's because I knew this guy as a customer at the cleaners, way back when...and I hadn't called him by his last name in years. I saw no point in starting just because I was on the stand and he was trying to tear me apart. Anyway.

Yeah, so she and I argued. I'm really perturbed at the tact she took about the fact that I was talking to her on Friday when I'd been fired on Tuesday...and yet she was throwing in my face the stuff that was written on those write-ups - which didn't get faxed to her until after I called. I'm irritated by the fact that she told me she hadn't gotten hold of anyone, and yet all of a sudden out of the blue, there's these faxes coming in? Am I the only one who finds this to be strange? Talk about your double standard, too. Plus, I don't know who she spoke to, but she behaved and spoke to me as an impartial bystander until a couple hours or so had gone by...and those faxes magically appeared. From that point on, it was obvious to me that she was already biased against me.

You know Lady, I know you said you wouldn't read this. I believed you in the beginning, but you've already proven yourself to me to be dishonest and part of a cover-up. You have a problem with people's names being on the net, now, and in the beginning your position was "As long as you don't use the company name or anyone's last name, it doesn't matter, it doesn't affect us. Oh, looky here. Your name is Amy, isn't it?

You can't sue me for doing this, because I happen to know that what I'm doing is not illegal. You can keep my from being gainfully employed with the company, but that's already happened. You can't make me stop writing, and you can't make me take it down. You can't sue me, either.

But then, you'll never know I'm thinking this, feeling this, or saying this...unless you break your word to me. You know, the word you solemnly gave to me verbally over the phone, when you told me you could actually lose your job if you shared any information I gave you with anyone but HR people, and you would never read the journal - only search for keywords. But, I know what you said to me on the phone...what Mike said to me doesn't count unless you have it in writing, it isn't a fact. Well, here it is in writing, here's your fact, huh?

Do what you will. But, be forewarned. So will I.

My daughter had a ballgame today, and the MONARCHS (yes, that's the real name of the team) are now 7-0. They played against really tough teams the past two games, and they've still won by a decent margin. I'm really very proud of these girls, especially since I know that most of them barely knew anything about the game when they started. My daughter, who has wanted to be a cheerleader since she was three, is now telling me that she's going to be a ballplayer, not a cheerleader, when she gets in Jr. High and High School. She loves the game. Today's score was 30-20, although it should have been 32-20. I didn't make a fuss, but I KNOW the Monarchs scored one basket, when the score was 11-4, that they never got the points for. I saw it, and so did my son. I didn't go off on a rant and a fuss, but I'm aware of it. My daughter was in the game at the time, so didn't notice, although if she'd been on the bench at the time, she certainly would have.

The Ex came and got the kids just now, and I have the place to myself for a few hours. My daughter will come back by later on to give Lady (yes, that's her real name) her afternoon walk, and then I'll be alone until tomorrow morning. Today is The One's day off, and I'd give a lot to be burning up the phone lines with him right now, I really would. I can't, though. His daughters are both with him, and they're having a slumber party. He's seriously outnumbered in girl power right now, and having a blast. I've listened to him with the kids before, and let me tell you, he's not only a Good Dad...he's also a Cool Dad. Believe it or not, he was actually looking forward to the slumber party with the girls, saying "We'll have so much fun!" and he actually meant it. He's stocked up on ice cream, various other munchies, and plans to order pizza. I know him, he'll be playing all sorts of games with them, and trying hard to avoid hearing any talk about boys. *grin* His eldest daughter plays violin, and apparently sings really well, too. He plays acoustic guitar, piano, and sings. They do duets, I've learned. (He's also a photographer and a journeyman electrician, and has a genius IQ. He's other things too, but hey. No one asked for his resume, right?)

Anyway, I called when we got in, to tell him the score of the ballgame, and he was really in this great happy mood. His daughter answered the phone, and I could hear him on the guitar in the background - it must have been Music Hour. I told him the news, and then handed the phone to my daughter. He told her congrats and all that, and then told me he'd call me tonight, after all the girls are asleep. I'm looking forward to it.

It occurs to me that had I thought of it before, I could have made arrangements with my sister for today. With me not working the weekend, I could have driven to her house and spent some time with her, maybe even spent the night. Oh well. I have last night's Sci-Fi shows I taped, I can watch those instead. I really can't afford the gas to drive all the way over there, anyway.

Besides, this house is a mess and a half, what with the kids having two snow days in a row and all. Whew. I need to get my tookus busy setting it to rights again. Actually, it's not that bad...it's just not nearly as clean as I prefer it to be. I'm ready for spring cleaning, let me tell you. Ugh.

I wonder if anyone at work misses me? I'm not used to having time to actually feel alone. *sigh*

Gypsy · Feb 9, 2003

And yet more proof...

Yesterday something happened that prompted me to write an entry here, full of emotion and many words. It wasn't too long, maybe six paragraphs at most. We all know that that can be rather short, for me. I'm a wordy person most of the time.

I clicked 'submit', and then got a page telling me I wasn't logged in. Ack! What the hell?? I quickly logged in and clicked back. My entry was gone.

Now, I've long since come to the conclusion that things happen for a reason - there is no such thing as coincidence. There are times I think I'm full of bull for believing that, but I think what happened with yesterday's post offers further proof, you know?

If I write a post and something happens to make it disappear, I don't immediately rewrite it. I think long and hard about what I was about to post, and wonder what reasons there could be for my regretting posting it, at some point. With this one, it took me about two hours to realize the reason. Oh My God. I've just had my bacon saved by unseen forces. Two hours to realize the possibe consequenes of what I was about to do? Unbelievable that it took me that long, but I defend my stupidity with my high emotional state, lack of sleep, constant distraction with the kids being home on snow days (fighting and driving me crazy), ballgames, and a sincere desire to say what I had said to the person I'd been saying it to.

You're all confused, aren't you? I understand. I'd be confused by this entry, too.

I still have an extremely strong desire to say what I was saying in that obliterated post. It's driving me nuts, it really is.

Dunsany, I sincerely need to thank you. If I don't get this out of me, I'm liable to screw up and forget, and put it here in words I shouldn't choose to post. Fate might not save my ass the next time I have a brain fart. I'm going to be really careful, and I hope you understand that whatever I end up deciding I'm able to say, it doesn't even begin to cover what I really want to say.

What you have done and said is unbelievable, and I want you to know how grateful I am. You see, I'm not just grateful for what I received, although once I got over being totally stunned, I was still amazed and grateful. And Yes, I know just what to do with it. The main thing I need to say to you is this, though:

Thank you for this experience. I've had a lifetime of real crap, as most can realize from reading my journal...and to now be able to add this as an experience and a memory...words cannot describe how grateful I am for that. I know it's worth, on that level.

You know what you've done. Now know this; it sent me through a whole list of emotions, almost all of them positive. Even the semi-negative ones turned positive after I thought about it for a few minutes. You've amazed me, and made me cry - it was a beautiful moment in my life. I'll never forget this for as long as I live. Thank you.

Thank you for giving me such a wonderful and amazing positive experience, obviously given from the heart. You're right, I NEVER would ask for such a thing. I'm still feeling a bit of shock over it, and to tell the truth, I think I always will.

And it was for ME. Not for some lucky person in a movie. Little old nobody me.

I wish I could hug you. All I can do is tell you that you have my eternal gratitude.
Your words will remain with me.
This experience is now part of my life.
And I will continue to climb the mountain.

Bless you.

Love,
Gypsy

Gypsy · Feb 10, 2003

Finding the right frame of mind.

It's another rambling day, so there's no title yet. If I think of one that fits what I end up writing about, I'll stick it in.

Another snow day for the kids. That ought to make it easy to make those phone calls and go job hunting, today! The roads are probably mostly clear, but the one outside my window has snow on it. Big deal. It's some snow. You drive careful, you get where you're going. Today I need to go pay bills and put some applications in. Since I'd have to drive really slow, I'd be gone for hours, with the kids home destroying the house and trying to break each others' arms.

I will search for jobs to apply for on the state website. I'll also pick up a newspaper while I'm out paying the utility bills, and see what's in there. I'm thinking seriously of putting in my application at one of the other pizza places in town, as a hold-on job. Then again, I think I'll wait until I'm desperate, to do that. What I intend to do is basically what I did when I arrived in this town: Concentrate on jobs that I know I'm qualified for, that aren't minimum wage food service. Since I spent five months unemployed that way the last time, I really don't have much hope of success this time. And this time, I don't have any savings to survive on, so that's a scary thought.

Well, at least this time I'm not paying huge deposits in order to move in here...and the insurance I have to keep so Housing will let me have my dog, as well as my car insurance, is paid up until June or July. That's a plus. Also, this time, the child support is already being garnished from the Ex's wages, so I can count on $175 a month, unless he quits his job again. My tags aren't due to run out on the car until April, that's good. Since I'm not putting so many miles on the car right now, the brakes and CVC can wait to be fixed awhile longer, that's good too. (Yeah, I'm taking stock and counting blessings. Can you tell?) I paid my isp for two months the last time I was in there, and immediately after that, I got a referral bonus that credited me for a month of dialup - which means when the bill comes due again next month, I'll only owe $8. I'm online for a little while, in other words. If I'm not gainfully employed by the time it comes due, I may be without internet for awhile, though.

When I first moved in here, it was around six months before I had my own phone, and dialup. It was three more months before I had basic cable. I can cut expenses by letting the cable internet and cable tv go for awhile. I can also go a little bit cheaper on my phone bill by giving up caller ID and all that stuff that comes in that big package for $30. I got it because I didn't have an answering machine for awhile, and I needed CallNotes while I was job hunting. Without caller ID or CallNotes, I had no idea who called while I was out putting in applications, or searching the state website (tying up my phone line) looking for more places to apply. If I were to pay just for caller ID, Call Waiting Caller ID wouldn't work - you only get *that* in this package. Sigh...let's hope it doesn't come to any of that. The first thing I'll be willing to give up is cable tv, although I'll miss the Sci-fi channel terribly.

At least there's food in the house. I almost tapped my card completely out at the store yesterday, but the house is full of food. The pantry is so full you can't fit anything else in there without stepping on it. The fridge has a fair amount of food, as does the freezer. I bought a lot of after school snacks for the kids, which I probably shouldn't have done. They now have things like Mini Ritz Bitz Peanut Butter Sandwiches. chips and salsa, hot dogs, lunchmeat, some cookies, corn dogs, taquitos, and I got two heads of lettuce and salad dressing for my daughter. She adores salads as a snack. Anyway, there's enough stuff in there for after school for at least three weeks, if they don't go insane and eat like pigs just because it's there. If they do...sorry about their luck. They know when it's gone, it's gone until the next time. Learn to ration. There's enough breakfast food for a month, easily. The only thing I don't have a month's worth of already is meat. My freezer is only *so* big, after all.

It's been snowing since the wee hours of Thursday morning, (mostly) which makes people freak out and hit the grocery stores, around here. Do you know there was barely a loaf of bread on the shelves? And there wasn't a scrap of cheese anywhere. I think that must've been due to a cooler malfunction, though. No way did people buy ALL that cheese, of every kind. Their meat department was really understocked too, though. Milk was looking rather scarce. Produce was looking low, too.

Hmmm...I wonder if they're trying to get rid of everything to shut down? Naww...they do way too much business there to be losing money and having to close.

Boy oh boy, am I glad I made sure I had the car seriously winterized when it was still Fall. The Ex was telling me yesterday that he needs to put some anti-freeze in his car. All I could do was stare at him. I thought that surely by now he'd have learned not to put things like that off. He probably still has water only in his windshield washer solution resevoir, too. Insane. If I end up getting gas somewhere and become concerned that there's the least bit of water in it, I have gas line antifreeze in my trunk, ready to throw in the tank. It saved my ass once in Indiana, and I caught it on sale and bought a few bottles for future need. I also have de-icer stuff to put in my windshield resevoir - I'll put that in today. I meant to put it in last week, but forgot and filled up with just the antifreeze kind of solution. Silly me.

I'm really just talking about nothing today, aren't I? I'm so sorry. Just trying to get my brain in the right frame before I start making phone calls. It helps if you've counted all the things that are okay first - that way you don't sound so depressed and dejected.

I think while I'm out and about either today or the next day the kids actually go to SCHOOL, I'll put yet another application in at the local newspaper. I was wondering last night if it's possible to write a letter to the editor about my situation, asking the good folks of my town what they think of it all, but be completely anonymous. I'm pretty sure if you want a letter to the editor published, you have to actually use your name and facts, not do it anonymously. I really don't know, though. I wonder if that would violate company policy regarding divulging confidential information?

I really, really wish they hadn't cancelled school today.

No_Key_Bandit...where are you? Would you please email me? I'm unable to email or PM you, and your last PM to me now says [Deleted User] instead of No-Key-Bandit. It's freaking me out.

The Ex is feeling mighty smug about something the past few days. He seems to think he has me over a barrell about something, but I don't know what, yet. I'm only mildly concerned, but where he is involved, it doesn't do to completely ignore things like this. Time will tell, I suppose.

Speaking of Time, it's time to say a little prayer and start making those phone calls. Wish me luck.

****Edited to fix typo's. I really need a new keyboard. This one has sticking keys.

And I'm getting lazy in my old age.

Gypsy · Feb 11, 2003

Chickens and Rabbits and Karma (oh my)

OldLady;

I had a similar experience as a child, only with rabbits instead of chickens. My experience with chickens amounted to: don't try to pet them. Not even through the fence. Mean little suckers..they don't make friends, not at all. I had to be rescued from several chickens, once - and I was standing OUTSIDE the fence.

But the rabbits...that was the real horror.

Grandma and Grandpa raised them in the barn, and all us grandkids just loved to help feed them. Actually, we just loved to see them, touch them, hold the new bunnies. We always wanted one for a pet, so grandma made a rule about it. In each generation, there was generally a 'smokestack' born - sort of a grayish calico. (The one that looked like it'd been used to clean the chimney.) That's the one that was given to a grandchild, whoever's turn it was. (Meaning, whoever happened to be on the farm at the moment). She too used to tell us that our beloved bunnies had gotten loose and run away, or had died of some malady. Actually, this was sometimes true, for I was there a time or two when my uncle forgot to check the cages and make sure they were latched tight, and one or two would get away.

Anyway.

I was on the farm one day when it came time to butcher rabbits for the freezer. I remember Grandpa trying hard to send me to the store, into town with an aunt...anything to get me off the farm awhile. Nothing doing, I was being a stubborn little shit. I knew he was trying to get rid of me, and for that reason alone I was determined to stay.

I sure do wish I hadn't been so stubborn.

I don't know about the chickens screaming, but I can guarantee you that rabbits can scream. My uncle was doing the work on this day, Grandpa was making him. He did a sloppy job on the first one, and it screamed loud and long before it died. Grandpa had to step in and slit its throat to end it, I was told later. Anyway, that barn full of rabbits caught the scent of blood and heard that awful scream, and the whole lot of them took to screaming and trying to get out of their cages in a panic.

Ever heard 72 rabbits screaming in unison? No? Good. Count yourself lucky.

I'd been a small town girl my whole life, but I always knew there were certain rules that changed at Grandma and Grandpa's. We ate chicken that didn't quite look like the chicken my Mom bought at the store. We ate brown eggs. We enjoyed things like canned apples and homemade bread. We suffered a terrible heat in the kitchen when the canning was going on. We ate a lot of rabbit for dinner. I adored fried rabbit. Until that day, I did, anyway. It sure didn't help matters anyway when I found out that my Uncle had just butchered a smokestack. Nay, not just any of the smokestacks, either. (There were four at the time.) No. It was MY smokestack. And they wanted me to eat dinner? Were they INSANE? It took me several years to eat rabbit again. I learned a valuable lesson from it all.

Never name your food.

I finally heard from the HR lady after 3 pm today. I've paced this house a thousand times waiting, and I don't mind telling you, I got mad at the wait. There were so many things I could have accomplished today, but I had to wait by the phone. Certainly she could have left a message and I could have called her back - but I wasn't about to do that, was I? No. No, I wasn't.

I have to wait yet again - she was supposed to be starting on the keyword search and touching base with the district manager. I asked her what keywords she'd be searching for, and she told me. I asked her if she was going to read the journal, and she said no, only search the keywords. I asked her what happens next, after the keyword search. She said she'd be talking to Bianca, and telling her to tell Mike that "We need to offer you your job back."

Hmmm...

I asked her if she'd emailed Mullaney and asked him to verify what I said about my not being able to manipulate the dates of the posts or edits, and that there's a time limit involved in editing. She told me no, she'd found information on the site which explained that there's a 7 day time limit on that. Seven days, huh? I hadn't remembered how long it was, to be honest. I'd tried to go back and edit something once, not remembering why. I remember now what it was. I'd been checking to see if I'd told a particular story, and read back through some posts - and discovered that one of my posts had been accidentally posted twice. I'd never noticed it, not until much too late to do anything about it. I tried to edit, and got a message that too much time had passed, but I didn't really pay attention to what it said the limit was. Seven days. I'll have to remember that, in case I ever double post again.

Anyway. She found proof that I was telling her the truth about my inability to control those dates or to manually go back and change anything I'd written. Apparently she decided to do some research on the site. She basically told me she'd read the FAQ and printed out pages about what's written there. I rather suspect she's been reading all the forums, to see what kind of things are posted all over the site, in general. If that's the case (and I strongly suspect it is), she certainly found a lot of moral support over in the off topic forums, didn't she? Yeah, and me shooting off my mouth about being mad, too. That's okay. I never pretended to her not to be upset and angry.

I want my job back. I want it back more because I never should have lost it in the first place, than anything. I want an apology from Mike, I want my schedule back. I don't think I should have to lose my pay raise, my normal schedule, or the days off I'd requested a month ago. Why not? Because I never should have missed a day of work over this. It isn't my fault that Mike lost his mind and wouldn't listen to me. It isn't my fault that John got nosy and caused trouble, trying to get his way.

I think I should get my job back, an apology, everything go back to the way it was, and it never be mentioned again. Just my opinion.

And as for John...I'm pretty mad at him, I have to admit. But you know what? Gonna let karma get him. Karma can do much meaner things than I can, with a lot less guilty concience...if you know what I mean. I can think mean thoughts, but let me try to be mean and vindictive just for the sake of it, and...well, it just doesn't work. I have to have a moral battleground where I'm on the right side of the line, before I can fight. Even then, I can't seem to really fight dirty. I just don't give up, that's all. Like a dog with a bone.

Yeah, karma can kick John's ass for this. I'm okay with that. I might never get to see the result of it, but that's okay.

Karma gets us all, in the end.

Gypsy · Feb 11, 2003

Ok, stop the presses.

You know, when someone shits on me in some way, I get mad and upset, just like anyone else. And yes, I think angry and sometimes vindictive thoughts. I feel the need to point out though, that those thoughts typically remain just that - THOUGHTS. I don't go around doling out whatever punishments to people I think up, just because I think they should suffer them. It isn't my way. If it were, my step mother certainly wouldn't still be alive, now would she? No sir. She most certainly would NOT still be alive. In fact, I tend to be much nicer to people who have screwed with my life in some way than most of the general population would be. It's just the way I am.

I just read a PM from someone that made me wonder "Is this person just confused about a name?" I tried to PM them back, but their inbox is full. So, here's the PM and my response.

Are you kidding me?

The 'poor thing' got pissed off because:

A) I wouldn't give him my journal
B) He did a search and could not find it
C) A mutual friend couldn't give it to him
D) The mutual friend wouldn't conspire to get it and give it to him
E) He wanted to know what it said (just for the hell of it) and was denied the ability to fulfill this desire

...so he went to my boss and stirred trouble, thinking that I'd be strong-armed into giving up the link, and he'd get to read it.

Poor thing? Seriously, now.

I won’t ‘let’ Karma do *anything*. Karma and Dogma are not factions I control. I’ll simply let Karma be what causes him to pay the price for what he’s done. Something similar to what he’s done to me will one day be done to him, I daresay. When that happens, I won’t cry over it – if in fact I even know about it at all.

I won't be mean to John. I will simply ignore him, unless I HAVE to speak to him in a working environment, regarding work. The conversation will be short, polite, and efficient, and then he will immediately return to Ghost status. He no longer exists, for me. As I am not working with him, even that much doesn't apply. I MIGHT tell him when I see him, in a conversational tone, that I think he's a worthless excuse for a man for doing such a thing for such selfish reasons, and that I have no use for him - but that'll be the extent of it.

And that’s the bottom line.

Gypsy · Feb 11, 2003

OHHHhhhhhhhh.........

My bad.

I've just received yet ANOTHER two PM's telling me I'd misunderstood the first one. They've both explained it to me, and yup, I did misunderstand what the first one meant. I sure did. It makes sense now, and I feel like a complete idiot.

I'm afraid I'd simply never seen that bumper sticker, before. I'd never heard that phrase. I was soooooo not in the know...

Really sorry about that.

Oh, and now that I DO understand it? I must confess, once I 'got it', I laughed. In fact, it was a perfect thing to say. I guarantee I will never forget, now.

Can you tell I'm embarrassed? Contrite, even. Scuffling my toe in the dirt. Hanging my head, and grinning sheepishly.

Oops.

Forgive me?

Gypsy · Feb 13, 2003

Too many emotions to count

I am so irritated.

For the past two days, I've had things on my mind, and I've felt the urge to write. I've spent hours in this decidedly uncomfortable chair on several occasions, thinking to write a post. And nothing comes of it.

Every topic I can think of that feels right, I discard, because I think of it in the context "how will it be perceived by the Company, by (insert name here)?" Damnit to hell, I know someone is either reading this, or will be very soon. Hey ya'll, remember me bitching for a few entries about this? Well, guess what? Uh huh. Those feelings that I get... I may not always know what they mean, but I always know they mean something.

And maybe that dream where I was being attacked while on a delivery was a tiny bit of a premonition, too. After all, right now I do consider myself in the middle of being fucked without the pleasantries of at least a kiss first. And not a soul (that is able, and that should) is stepping in to help me. They're watching from the safety of their houses (jobs), hidden behind their curtains and blinds. They know what's happening, they know they could help, and yet they don't. They don't answer the door, and they don't answer my screams for help. It also occurs to me that the one who has taken my wallet (my job) doesn't WANT my job...but he won't give it back, either. He doesn't say a word (he won't discuss it with me - his words), he just comes after me silently, and fucks me without a sound (he also blocked my phone number - I cannot call the store from my home phone). First, he only wanted my wallet (my job), and if I'd given it quietly and freely, simply walked away, he'd have let me leave in peace. But no, not me - I fought back. The harder I fought (fight), the harder he has to work to fuck me (over)...but that doesn't stop him.

I'm probably the only one who understands all that. If you're confused, try looking back for the dream I'm referring to, maybe that will help. Then again, maybe not.

I waited by the phone all day today, when I could have been out applying for jobs. Why? Because HR was supposed to call me with a meeting time and/or place, so I could talk to Bianca, that's why. Even if I still don't get my job back, damn it to hell, I want my meeting. It was due process, it was my RIGHT as a company employee. All the fucking posters said so. I want my meeting, and I want her to tell me herself that I can't have my job, and why. I want her to explain to me why the original given reason for my termination has been changed, now that I've PROVEN to the company that I did not break policy, I did not give confidential information.

I want to know why I'm being fucked without kisses or sound. I'd prefer she tell me in person, that she face me and look me in the eye as she explains.

I am angry, and I'm hurt. When you work hard and do all the right things, it's supposed to be enough. It's supposed to earn you a place. Does being a good person mean nothing to anyone? WHY do people find it so easy to shit on me? Why is it that I'm such a good and easy target? Why am I once again in a position of defense?

Because the only way to win this is to think and act in more unconcionable ways that I'm willing to stoop to. Because I'm a believer in the adage that two rights do not make a wrong.

And because I'm scared of karma.

The first thing you learn about Wicca, should you read about it, is this: "An ye do no harm, do what thee will." This creed is a good one. It also warns that whatever you do comes back to you multiplied (I've heard X3 and X7...I'm not sure which is accurate). So what if I'm not a practicing witch? I heed the warnings, I keep myself out of what would surely only be more trouble than I already have.

Whatever the religion, whatever the rule, it matters not. I don't want to pay the price for being a stone cold bitch bent on revenge. It doesn't matter if unseen forces never come to screw with my life or not, it really doesn't. What matters is that I believe in myself, you know? What matters is my self-respect. I am the better person. I don't mean better than John, Mike, or Bianca. I mean better than *I* was, ten days ago.

If it's true that we've all lived past lives, and we all accumulate debt we must pay, then I was one real sonofabitch murdering raping pillaging evil no good motherfucker, previously. If all I've endured in my life (most of which none of you even know about, yet) is because I've been learning lessons and paying debts...well, I'd like to think I've made a lot of progress. No sense giving myself setbacks now, is there? Over a crappy little delivery job, at that.

Am I angry? You bet your sweet ass, I am. I'm mad as hell. And I'll continue to fight for my rights, as well. But I refuse to entertain thoughts of revenge for more than a minute or so. Just long enough to fuel my anger a little, just long enough to drag me out of morbid depression and keep me moving. That's all it's good for accomplishing, you know. It's just fuel for the fire that keeps you moving, fighting the good fight.

After all, the very best of heroes would fall on their face from exhaustion within a very short time, without something to keep fueling them.

I'm no hero to anyone in the world. The thing is, there's no hero out there who can fix this for me, either. Well, if there is, they're certainly hiding, aren't they? Pulled those curtains, and damned near stopped breathing, just to keep their presence from being known. That's okay, though. Remember when I said that I no longer search for heroes? It was true. I don't really look to anyone else to save my bacon. I've been this route before, and I already know that no one will stand up for me. But I also wasn't kidding when I said that I don't believe anyone else in the world cares as much about my well-being as I do. I am alone in this fight, the only who can wield a sword.

For the first time in my life, I was smart enough not to get *too* close to anyone, smart enough to realize that if push ever came to shove, there wasn't a soul there who would defend me. I've known it since the day I took the job, since the day I moved back to this shitty town. So, this time, it doesn't hurt as much. It doesn't come near to devastating me the way it once would have, because I just never let myself believe that anyone I've met or spent time with would ever be there for me in a time of need. They aren't real friends. Not what I consider real friends, anyway.

That doesn't mean I'm not fond of a few people, because I am. But damned if I can make myself believe in them. It's just a herd of cows, man. Just a herd of cows. We shared space, food, and time, maybe a few laughs. But real relationships? Even those I chose to call 'friend' were never elevated to the level of true trust and honor. Not even Tim. Sad, that.

I feel like I have to be careful what I write here, now. I wonder what I've said before that's going to bite me on the ass. I wonder why I even care, anymore, who reads what or what they think. I only know that I feel like my journal has been compromised beyond the parameters that I set, and I'm pissed about it. More than that, I'm crushed. This journal was more important to me than anyone has ever guessed.

Do you know the only person in my life (outside the IRC, you guys don't count in this statement, because I don't interact with you away from this screen) who has offered me continuous support has been The One? It's a dog eat dog world, and the only one who really gives a shit about my life, my fears, my worries, my anger, my honor, my principles, is the only one who loves me. In fact, he's proud of me for standing up for myself. He understands it isn't about the job, nor even the secrets in my journal. It's about the principle of the matter, and he loves me more for standing up for that, even knowing the consequences.

Has anyone paid any attention to my signature, lately? The first part is easily recognizable, because I combined two famous quotes. Those quotes have been my motto and mantra for three years, now, did you know that? That's because I know how true they are, and because I took strength from them, made decisions based on them. The second part I took from a friend. He'd read one of my posts, the one I ended by saying something to the effect of "I only hope my strength doesn't scare him away". Anyone remember that? Well, this friend sent me a PM as soon as he read that. It simply said "The "One" who truly loves you, will love your strength."

It took me about 30 seconds to make it part of my signature, because I recognized it as both profound and very true. A new mantra.

Yesterday, I was talking to The One, and he said something that made me stop and smile. I'd just told him I'd done nothing to be proud of, all I was doing was being really stubborn about trying to prove my point and get my job back. "But that's one of the reasons I love you so much." Huh? What is? What do you mean? "Because of your strength. You're a good person, you're fighting for your principles, and you have the strength not to fold and give in...you fight back when you're wronged. Not everyone would do that. Not everyone would be that strong."

I'm paraphrasing a tad, I didn't memorize it precisely. But that's pretty close.

The One who truly loves me, loves my strength.

What more could a girl ask for?

Ramblings of a Single Mom

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