tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-250305692024-03-05T09:05:15.867-08:00Married to an AddictA.N.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10895214106779855938noreply@blogger.comBlogger109125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25030569.post-49821771204022153392009-06-25T14:53:00.000-07:002009-06-25T14:59:39.956-07:00Last Post..For NowI was reading a fellow blogger's account...The Junky's Wife...and saw that she decided to be done writing for now because of "other stories". I tend to agree. Not because I am copying her but because I have been leaving this blog open for months on end and not writing anything. Perhaps it would be better to close this blog out.<br /><br />While I will always face constant reminders of what Chris did at the beginning of our marriage and before, I am moving on and feel the need to let this blog go. It was invaluable to me, along with all of your comments. It would be wrong for me to leave it open, only for me to come to it once in awhile.<br /><br />I feel that our marriage has improved so much and I am continually working on things that are still wrong, and ways to improve it. Thank you all so much for your support through these last few years.<br /><br />My email address on the left will remain in tact and I will check it more often than I have been lately. I will continue to blog as well, but about different parts of my life. If you click into my profile, you will be able to see where I am now.<br /><br />Again, thank you. And I can only hope that this touched at least one person going through something similiar to what I went through.A.N.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10895214106779855938noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25030569.post-35291203469193505922009-06-24T12:19:00.000-07:002009-06-24T12:32:33.758-07:00ImpotenceI've been thinking a lot lately of our first year of marriage.<br /><br />I don't even recognize who I was back then. How did I get through that? I had no one...or at least, I let no one in. I don't know the person who made it through the nights where he didn't come home until the early morning hours. I don't know how I cooked him a meal every night, only to have it sit in the fridge until 3am - most nights, not even getting eaten. I don't even recognize myself from back then.<br /><br />However, I see one remnant...almost daily...to remind me of that part of our lives. It's a painful one, and it rests solely on me. I'm sad to say it but our intimate life...the side that husbands and wives should cherish, the side where you express your love...it has all but left. For me.<br /><br />When we were younger, when we were teenagers, all I wanted to do was to touch him. I wanted to feel his tongue in my mouth, and hold him in my hand. I could barely keep myself off of him. In fact, some days, we were like exhibitionists.<br /><br />But something happened. I don't know when, I don't know how, I don't know where. But I stopped feeling that way. I can't entirely blame it on him, because if you have been following this, you know I cheated on him during our engagement. I am not sure if it's because of this that left me not wanting him. Or if it's because of the crack.<br /><br />It's not like I still want that other person. There is no one else. But I am closed off to him, and I am clueless as to how to re-open.<br /><br />He craves me. He physically craves me. He reaches for me, he touches me, and instead of re-coiling, I'm just numb to his touch. It means nothing. When he is inside me, I am doing it solely for him. I don't care to do it at all. It is nothing I look forward to.<br /><br />This really scares me. We have been through a lot and if he were to cheat on me, honestly, I couldn't blame him. I do nothing. I do it out of guilt, and enjoy none of it.<br /><br />It makes me sound horrible. It makes me sound like a freak.<br /><br />I was on <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">meds</span> for awhile while we were married. Perhaps that f-<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">cked</span> up my sex drive. I don't know. All I know is that I want it back.<br /><br />I want to embrace him and to feel wanting for him. To feel physical desire towards him and with him and to feel that sexual passion ignite again and to never want to be away. I have tried everything. I have tried romantic things, forceful things, dominating things - nothing puts me in that place.<br /><br />And it's hard to think it's just him because I feel this way towards everything. I simply have no desire to do anything sexual.<br /><br />Is this <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">salvageable</span>? I don't know. I just know I really want it back.A.N.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10895214106779855938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25030569.post-55662353578481587992009-03-11T16:33:00.000-07:002009-03-11T16:39:22.991-07:00Good EveningHello Fellow Bloggers. I cannot believe it has been SO long since I have last checked in.<br />I have made it. I am a teacher. And I love it! It was so scary and the days are long, and some are so tough!, but it is worth it. I love all of the boys. They each have something so unique to bring to the table.<br /><br />Things with Chris are going great. He has been sober now for two years. Can you believe it?? I can't. Things have changed so completely. I look back on that time of my life with amazement. I wonder often...how did I get through it? How did I ever fall asleep at night? It seems like I was such a different person - which really, I was. I remember all the little things that I did or didn't do that were so different and how I got through it. It is so ... such a lifetime ago.<br /><br />I just wanted to give a quick update. I have been incredibly busy and have really forgot all about this...this time in my life that feels like a million years ago. But I will check in more frequently. I hope I can be of help to anyone who needs it. If I made it through that, and it could spring up anytime, I know anyone else can.A.N.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10895214106779855938noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25030569.post-90478893803782293942008-08-23T15:08:00.000-07:002008-08-23T15:36:14.709-07:00SVU Mates<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237844508098852306" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo_Qoen5uRIcUJx9QzYpiw9g-RcfcMXbC1ncaEkxTKVHWA8NyNf81LgXlKW6c9w3bUibtdG85f1eYNQuD4M5mhk6CGi71tuldZK9R0OzTras6J-pxf3VQ7BTSybul4mVa1HPYT8g/s320/law_svu.jpg" border="0" />There is a man who lives across from me. I don't know who he is, what he does, or if anyone lives with him. All I know is that he only leaves his apartment once or twice a day and he is always wearing jeans. He is never dressed up...I don't know if he has a job. And he never walks to his garage for his car. He walks the opposite way.<br /><p></p><p>What I know, from a random occurrence when I glanced across the divide between our homes, was that his TV was turned onto the show that I can't seem to get enough of - Law & Order: SVU. Now, whenever I am watching it, I can't seem to stop glancing over once or twice to see if he is watching too. And he usually is! However, it is not the same episode I am watching, which leads me to believe he records it...as do I. And though I have never met this strange man, I feel like we are two kindred spirits. </p><p>I mean, he may not work; he may be loaded. He may be a psycho. He may just sit in his house all day. But you know what? At least he watches SVU.</p>A.N.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10895214106779855938noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25030569.post-21902581571833391592008-08-14T15:52:00.000-07:002008-08-14T16:05:53.878-07:00Yes<p>Nearly three months since my last post.<br /></p><p>I switched careers. To teaching. I was in social work, for those of you that need a refresher. I have been enjoying the transition...until today. I applied and was accepted into an accelerated teaching program and loved it, and loved the kids I worked with during summer school, but in a few SO SHORT weeks, I will be in charge of my own classroom of 9 students in special education. I will lead them through this school year and help them grow and learn.</p><br /><p>I met the principal today. And the principal's assistant. I received mixed messages. Looks of disdain, disbelief, annoyance. I know I look young. I am young. But that does not make me incompetent. Once these people told me what I would be experiencing, like I didn't know, I felt the wind knocked out of me. I felt like I was going in the wrong direction.</p><br /><p>How can this be? I have been feeling called to this - I have seen signs directing me to go in this direction. And when someone simply challenges my thoughts or makes me feel inadequate I want to give up? That is my own downfall and I cannot let it continue. </p><br /><p>They warned me of it all. They warned me of what these 9 boys will do. I felt small and insignificant, someone who surely can't make a change in this world - in THEIR world. I will be teaching in the inner city. I am not familiar, at least, not as much, with this way of life, but I know a lot about it and I believe I can make a difference, if merely a small one. Having people doubt me just makes it worse. I want someone to encourage me and to say, even if untrue, that I WILL be able to handle it. </p><br /><p>I took a tour of the school and saw my own classroom. Instead of a rush of excitement to decorate my own classroom and to make it my own, I felt discouraged. I don't know if I can do it. How can I demand authority? What if they don't listen, which they won't? When a student runs from the classroom, who goes after him...me or the paraprofessional? I can't leave the other 8 by themselves! </p><br /><p>More and more questions present themselves and I am feeling continuously let down. During this small break, it didn't seem real but now that I have seen the classroom, I know it is, and I now have a limited amount of time to prepare. Lessons, classroom management, classroom decor, etc. I only have a week and a half and I don't even know where to begin. I don't know these kids! I don't know their needs, their weaknesses. What do I do the first week of school? </p><br /><p>I just feel so surprised and so shaken up, but by what? I knew what I was getting into. It is not a shock. Maybe now that I see how much responsibility I have. Now that I see that I have so much to do in this short time, I am feeling stressed and anxious and rushed and don't know how it will be that first day. Who these kids are. </p><br /><p>Anyways. That's been my life.</p>A.N.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10895214106779855938noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25030569.post-60865274922688113582008-05-18T14:35:00.000-07:002008-05-18T14:44:20.674-07:00Sorry.<p><span style="font-size:85%;">Hello all. Please don't want to kill me or make me go through some horrible "married to an addict" life. Yeah, I don't know what that was. My pathetic attempt at some sort of joke. Anyways, it has been more than two months since I have been on here. I know I suck.</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">Things are going well. Yet everytime I write that here, I feel as if something will come crashing down, or like I am being incredibly naive. It IS possible for things to get well again, isn't it? They aren't always going to be horrible?</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">There has been maybe two times at most in the past months where his eyes looked suspicious. But he acted normal. I don't know. He is staying strong in his probation and passing all of his drug tests. </span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">I have found new friends at work and have found joy in doing my own thing. Now that the weather is nicer, I can go out and walk when he is not there. I am kept busy by moving things to our new apartment, and studying for an exam for a career change I am embarking on. I am kept busy with my own friends' problems so I no longer focus on my own. </span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">And the best thing is, I have started to forgive. I really have. I may have said that before. But I have been better at letting go and I am even laughing a little now-a-days. It's not easy, but I try. </span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">I will try, TRY!, to update more, but I admit that it will not be easy. This site has now been blocked at work, and I usually forget by the time I get home. </span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">In the meantime, can anyone tell me what happened to Cuntface McBitchfuck??</span></p>A.N.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10895214106779855938noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25030569.post-34313242456836385472008-03-02T15:00:00.000-08:002008-03-02T15:29:38.855-08:00I'm back<p><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><span style="font-size:85%;">Wow, I can't believe it's been more than a month since I have posted. I didn't for quite some time because everything seemingly was going okay. But he was still being his stupid immature self. The thing I think about him is that he is really hung up on himself. I don't mean that he is full of himself because of his good looks or any of that crap; I mean that he only thinks of himself. Which we all knew and know was the problem, but he still doesn't understand that he needs to be responsible to other people at some points in his life. </span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">So about a week before Valentine's, he went to the casino. However, he didn't tell me that. And for weeks he had been asking me to go and for weeks I had been saying no. And on this particular night, I was calling and calling and calling and calling and nothing. Finally, he called, saying he lost track of time and was at the casino trying to "win money" FOR US. Ridiculous, I know. A week later, the night before Valentine's, he disappeared again because he was "stuck in traffic." So I kicked him out. The night before Valentine's Day. The next time we talked, the next day, he stated that he finally realized he was "trying to be independent." I said "big deal." He said that it was a big deal for him because he had never really placed his finger on it. </span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">I took him back (surprising right?) and since then, it has been the complete opposite. He has answered every time I called. He has been home at the time he has said he would be. He has been acting like a man - showering every day, shaving when necessary, spending time with me and not always playing video games. He has been a husband. It has been a welcome change.</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">We will see if he stays like that, but I certainly like what I see. Maybe I should not get too used to it or get my hopes up too high, but I am liking the new Chris. I hope that thing he "realized" really sticks with him.</span></p>A.N.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10895214106779855938noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25030569.post-17411243530493260882008-01-24T10:21:00.000-08:002008-01-24T10:29:08.887-08:00Don't have to forgive...nowAmazing that I would write I am going to break, because something else has happened this week. I am not fully ready to discuss it, and I am still pressing on with him, but we will see for how long.<br /><br />The meeting on Tuesday went nothing as I expected. She told me to start attending Al-Anon, which I have known forever, and commiserated with me. But I did not feel as if anything was sorted out. She told me about some of her experiences with her first husband, and recommended some books. I don't know what I expected, but I know I didn't expect to just vent and complain, and then have no resolution. She didn't even teach me or tell me or anything about how to slowly resolve my never-ending anger towards him. She did tell me it is just the beginning and that I am further ahead than most, but that I don't have to forgive him right away or be done in my anger. Which whether or not she said that, it didn't matter, because I know I can't do either.<br /><br />I am going read the book(s) she recommended, and look into Al-Anon, but in the meantime, I am going to start looking for fun things to do, whether it is taking classes or attending lectures or plays, or anything to get me out of the house. He needs to see that I am not just sitting around waiting for him. I have my own life.<br /><br />This week has not been easy. Tough situations have came up. Thanks to everyone for your comments and support.A.N.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10895214106779855938noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25030569.post-61535901833374555392008-01-17T17:19:00.000-08:002008-12-11T04:06:08.953-08:00Peeing Crack<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYwxDAzCozHbV8juGEI2kjwtNGWriucBOhXYrY6J8qruj8ZvAGTIvZAlAjJJy0f4ZTg6vp3lWqeJwxl7LoxoXaLnO0-VfSsAasrAGmjK0a7_bdSZ_ypCGtgakIZRLKtky7e6MEEQ/s1600-h/smoking-crack-cocaine.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156632715451570786" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYwxDAzCozHbV8juGEI2kjwtNGWriucBOhXYrY6J8qruj8ZvAGTIvZAlAjJJy0f4ZTg6vp3lWqeJwxl7LoxoXaLnO0-VfSsAasrAGmjK0a7_bdSZ_ypCGtgakIZRLKtky7e6MEEQ/s320/smoking-crack-cocaine.jpg" border="0" /></a>I did it. It took a lot of deep breaths, it took a lot of trying and failing, but I finally called to talk to someone. It is for this Tuesday. We'll see what happens.<br /><br /><div><div></div><div>My parents believe that the drug test he took that day was wrong. He also took one yesterday for his PO. And passed. So thanks, Mom and Dad. Thanks for the support. I know they are trying to be supportive and trying to look out for me. But they think he drank something to detox his system before taking a drug test. That’s a lot, even for him. He wouldn’t know I would give it to him.<br /><br />Even if he would, I need to get away. I can’t have my parents breathing down my throat on this. I can’t constantly live like this. He was fine. I swear he was fine before we got there. I swear he was fine when we went out with his parents. How could it only have affected him for that short time?<br /><br />I can’t play the ifs, ands, and buts games. He was clean, wasn’t he? Even so, the fact that they don’t believe, and would go so far to look up in the internet to see if he drank something and how fast it would work, is really bothersome. They have always had problems with trusting. If one of us kids messed up, it would take forever to trust us again. Literally forever.<br /><br />I want them to let me live my own life. To not treat me like a fricken idiot. I know the signs. I know when he looks high. I know when he looks fucked up. I don’t need a constant reminder; I don’t need a constant question and answer session.<br /><br />Now it is going to be awkward, and worst part is, I feel like a fucking idiot because I have started to believe him. He loves NA, he loves it so much. He loves having been in recovery for almost a year. He prides himself on it. And I really don’t think he would want to start all over. That’s why I find it so hard to believe that he would do fucking crack again.<br /><br />Maybe I am just one of those fucking idiots I hate. Those ones who actually believe that shit because they just don’t want to know the truth. The “ignorance is bliss” people. I used to be like that.<br /><br />It’s easier. It’s cleaner. But it’s a lie.<br /><br />What is the truth? Should I believe him? Should I believe the drug test? I am already angry with my parents for being so untrusting. For taking time out of their precious lives to look up my fucking husband’s ways out of peeing crack.<br /><br />Am I wrong to be that mad at them?<br /><br />I can’t seem to get out everything I want to say. I’m easily distracted right now. The point is two drug tests came out clean. The point is that he denied it. The point is is that I can’t handle anything else! I am going to fucking break.</div></div>A.N.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10895214106779855938noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25030569.post-17907002299069464592008-01-13T14:45:00.001-08:002008-12-11T04:06:09.422-08:00Eating Me Alive<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguhk0LdcR1oywlmlbN4ri36ol9_hc896CsTfLx3vm9SkfGdXL-k5JiE0rkKG61-8OwLqWk8Y3Ic64q0O__5gVD5lSugCuSTL4tBjQDms2zKuSuGb0p1K1hjFpAf4QK0Gc94gRyLg/s1600-h/Disintegration_by_lolita_art.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155107190312671810" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguhk0LdcR1oywlmlbN4ri36ol9_hc896CsTfLx3vm9SkfGdXL-k5JiE0rkKG61-8OwLqWk8Y3Ic64q0O__5gVD5lSugCuSTL4tBjQDms2zKuSuGb0p1K1hjFpAf4QK0Gc94gRyLg/s320/Disintegration_by_lolita_art.jpg" border="0" /></a>He went to his friend's house yesterday to play poker with his friend and his friend's dad and uncle. He was late coming home to go to my parent's for a play-off game. He looked normal. He acted normal. We got to my parent's house. He looked like a crack head. He acted like a crack head. He rubbed his eyes a lot, he barely ate, and he was literally falling asleep, like those great old days.<br /><br />Of course, my dad noticed. He cornered me in the kitchen, asking me what was going on asking me where he was earlier. I lied, of course, and said he had been at home playing video games all day. I didn’t want him to know the truth, but I thought I knew the truth. Telling my dad that he had been gone, not under my supervision, would surely show my dad that he was doing drugs.<br /><br />It went downhill and I bought a drug test after and he took it, and passed. It was a weird night, because he acted like a crack head there, but then we went out to dinner with his parents and he looked and acted normal.<br /><br />I dreaded today because I knew my parents would take about it to me. And they did. My mom said I didn’t deserve this and I needed to talk to someone about forgiving (I had told her I couldn’t forgive him.)<br /><br />I need help. This bitterness and hatred is eating me alive. I’m going to be honest. I’m going to finally tell the truth. And that truth is that I don’t think I can do it anymore. I tell myself I am doing good, I tell myself that I am taking baby steps and that each day is getting better. Some days are getting better.<br /><br />But deep inside, I think I hate him. Sometimes I will look at him with such disgust. Some days I don’t even want to go home. Some days I love him, and want to hold him, and want to feel surrounded by his arms. Some days I laugh with him, and am thankful for him.<br /><br />But those days are few and far between. I feel like I am drowning in my own anger. I can’t seem to get over it. Every thing he does wrong reminds me of then. Every time he is late, reminds me of then. Every time he doesn’t answer his phone I get angry all over again.<br /><br />I honestly don’t want to be like this. It may be hard to believe, but I really don’t. I want to move on. I want to be strong within myself, not within my madness.<br /><br />I want to embrace him, I want to look at him in love. I want to see the man I fell in love with, not the drug addict who fucked up my life.<br /><br />I doubt him, I doubt everything about him. I doubt his truths, I doubt his lies. I doubt him.<br /><br />I am not who I want to be. I want to be amazing. I want to be forgiving. I want to enjoy life. I don’t want this to be eating me alive. I want to love going home, not wishing that Sunday was actually a Monday.<br />I hate life. I hate this. I didn’t sign up for this. I thought I could do it. But maybe I can’t. I don’t want to live the rest of my life hating him, and hating myself.<br /><br />I want to be close. But I can’t. I can’t do it. I can’t touch him. I can’t make love to him. I can’t smile at him. I can’t even laugh at his stupid jokes.<br /><br />He has become a chore. He has become a goal to conquer. A goal for me to become a better person.<br /><br />Worst of all, I keep it all inside. I don’t talk to anyone about anything. I don’t have any friends I would be comfortable telling this to. I want to scream that I am not happy. I am not this person.<br /><br />I need help.A.N.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10895214106779855938noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25030569.post-66778058556894996732007-12-30T15:56:00.000-08:002008-12-11T04:06:09.633-08:00The past is in the past<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvM5QzUaZFvgMp9r8hdb3RNJEAOoDCCf-HhtKULU53jHm2zvZ8JAo8EUphBK9nTp7U6FspOOnZhTmYygN7it0biI6FTIFcy7L-5T41rUYSvoE4MTfVVY3c5b6DPJmWrxrTKzOumQ/s1600-h/Past.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149925136176388658" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvM5QzUaZFvgMp9r8hdb3RNJEAOoDCCf-HhtKULU53jHm2zvZ8JAo8EUphBK9nTp7U6FspOOnZhTmYygN7it0biI6FTIFcy7L-5T41rUYSvoE4MTfVVY3c5b6DPJmWrxrTKzOumQ/s320/Past.jpg" border="0" /></a>I am sitting here tonight, thinking of those from my past. It gets like this sometimes; when Chris goes to a meeting, or out to do laundry, my mind wonders to those I left behind in order to fulfill my fantasy with Chris. I often wonder what it would be like if I had stayed on those paths.<br /><div><br /><div>In this world of technology, I can find out virtually anything about anyone and sometimes, my temptation gets the best of me and I check on them via their myspace or some other site. I have never been able to be friends with my exes, even if I wanted to, so sometimes this is nice, to see how their life is.<br /></div><div>Other times, like tonight, it just depresses me. I start to wonder about my own life - if I will have as good of a friend as I had before, or if this person I am with now can ever make me so truly happy that I have no need to even glance at these people's pages.</div><br /><div>It's wrong of me to put that on Chris, and I know it. But sometimes, the feelings of sadness and feelings of "what if" hit hard, and I fall into them and succumb to them. </div><br /><div>I love him deeply, and I know that I would've went back to him no matter what. Whether someone made me so incredibly happy that I had never felt that way before, I believe I would have went back to Chris anyways because he holds something for me. There is something about him that I cannot resist. Maybe that is my weakness, maybe that is my strength.</div><br /><div>I do not regret the life I have chosen, or the person I ended up with. It has taken a long time for me to say that. It is going to take longer still to change my thought process of thinking myself as higher than him because I do not suffer from this addiction. It is going to be a long road to the complete forgiveness that I wish to give him because he does not deserve to constantly be reminded of or punished for his past mistakes.</div><br /><div>Each day is a challenge for both of us. But my desire to get through it will overcome the challenges.</div></div>A.N.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10895214106779855938noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25030569.post-76795749808174229902007-12-19T07:30:00.000-08:002007-12-19T08:50:16.212-08:00Simply LateWow, it has been almost two weeks. I have been busy with work and family activities, husband and friend stuff.<br /><br />Things are decent. I feel like anything I report is going to be too boring and lame to mention. I do have things that are going on to me, things that I feel are changing me, but that will be posted at a later date when I can finish writing it.<br /><br />I am starting to distance myself from this blog, and it bothers me somewhat. I feel sometimes that things are getting better, and I don't need to blog or write anymore about my husband's addiction, but then something grand will happen and I will be sent right back into that wave of fury.<br /><br />I was talking with Rae on Sunday, and something hit me. Every time he is late, every time he doesn't answer the phone, every time he calls back an hour later, will I constantly question him? Will I constantly wonder where he is, what he's doing, who he's with? Will doubts always fill my mind, for the rest of my life?<br /><br />I don't want that! I don't want to always resort to the worst possible thing in my mind just because of things that happened in the past. I know I will for awhile, but I don't want to for the rest of time.<br /><br />Why can't I just think that he's late? Or his phone is on vibrate? Why do I always have to jump to the worst thing? I hate that dreadful feeling I get, the one that wells up in the pit of your stomach. I hate it.<br /><br />I don't always want to feel like that. I don't always want to think he went back to crack. Will I ever be able to believe him or trust him again? Or will I always turn into a monster when he is late. I don't want to always think he was arrested or is high or is doing something terrible.<br /><br />Why can't I just think he is simply late. I don't want to feel nervous all the time. I want it to stop.A.N.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10895214106779855938noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25030569.post-40021970782044777882007-12-07T09:39:00.000-08:002008-12-11T04:06:09.847-08:00Sacrifice<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141310799066551170" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1t4SX1UQ7SYxrUzNnGNQSefulP5wsizRsKzUoz0lLA9b2SKcpp4aCmVZjXNqz1MQclEOfIexj2hunf1ptgjilLeZTUD57bzkHHUl3g_uLl5qGZBZsXkhqi0_ab_ZI22oxGGul5w/s320/willowtree.jpg" border="0" /><span style="font-size:85%;">Last night we were arguing. Nothing new, nothing surprising. Rae called and asked if we would go on a double date with a guy that she previously dated. I'm all for it, because lately it is the only way I can see Rae at all. But Chris - not so much. He is not a fan of the double dates. </span><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;">The fight escalated into so many thing that it shouldn't have been. All I really wanted was for him to say okay. He doesn't have to enjoy it. But I just wanted him to sacrifice for me. Sacrifice a few hours of his life, and make me happy. We are going to dinner. There is food involved. It was turning into a huge deal and it was really hurting me. We have had this discussion so many times. </span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-size:85%;">I know he doesn't enjoy the same things I do. I know he doesn't particularly <em>want</em> to go. But I don't really <em>want</em> him to be gone at NA's all the time. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;">The thing is, I don't think he really realizes how much I have sacrificed and lost for him. I know he does things around the house and he tries to be a good husband now, but that's it. It's now. It's not then. I know I probably need to forgive but that is way too easy to say. I just want him to realize what he put me through. I just want him to realize that for the first 7 months of our marriage, he was married to crack. He was never around. I did everything. I cooked, I cleaned, I lived alone. And when he "decided" through his arrest that he would become "clean", I lost him again to 3 nights of NA. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;">I don't want to sound like a complaining bitch who is not happy that he doing what he should be doing. I am glad that he is doing this - to get support, to have friends, to be involved with something greater than himself and greater than drugs. But at the same time, when he tells me I never do what HE wants, I believe in essence I am doing what HE wants every Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, when I sit at home and veg in front of the tv. It is not my choice to be alone so often. I would love to go do something. I would love to do something every week, just the two of us. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;">There is a church thing. Every Wednesday. I would like to do that with my husband. But when I said that last night in the heat of the argument, he said "I'm sorry...but Wednesday's are my home group." Oh, your HOME group! Well, I'm sorry. I'm only your wife. Have never been the priority. but I would like to be. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;">I want him to get his priorities straight. I want him to WANT to put my first, not only do it because I tell him to. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;">It's not only about the fricken' double date. It's about compromise; it's about sacrifice. It's about doing things that you may not want to because you love that person. Apparently, I am way too far ahead of him for him to even try to grasp onto that knowledge.</span></div>A.N.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10895214106779855938noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25030569.post-57756047868581461452007-11-23T20:27:00.000-08:002008-12-11T04:06:10.162-08:00It Never Ends<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5136266619695888178" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipVybiBln07K_S2RPBYTAWTlpbxSb1Fv7iWkOdLwxbDOSFnwC1cCNNOQc3Yli4wp6Unf_YzQkb1lmHA90GL0mThzctf02pz3PHfNj_iyg1dfTA-jSpaliraoAFfYIPaERxzon0MA/s320/0709120021.jpg" border="0" />Thanks to everyone who wrote to me on my last post. It meant so much.<br /><div></div><br /><div>This week has been better. For those who asked, nothing happened this last Monday. At least, nothing I know of. He was home "on time" and was looking and acting normal. It was quite weird, this Monday. Nothing like the past two. </div><br /><div></div><div>I have been stressed beyond normal this week. Remember the car things I would write? That my car was going down hill fast? This last week it took a turn for the worst. It can't get up hills, even small hills, at more than 15mph. It really worried me because winter is coming. </div><div> </div><div>My dad let me take his car - they have an extra car - and I have been feeling lucky and spoiled and safe, driving around in this luxury car, full of everything I could ever want. But last week I had to switch back for a day, and though I felt at home and less in need of responsibility in my own car, a huge dose of reality hit me. I would never make it through the winter. I probably wouldn't even make it through the next few weeks.</div><br /><div></div><div>I started looking hardcore for a car, all the while knowing that the chances of getting one without anyone's help was slim. I can make the car payments. I can do it all. I just have bad credit. And why? And that's another dose of reality that hit me this week.</div><br /><div></div><div>I was turned down at one after another credit loaning companies, though I would have a car as collateral. I felt so hopeless. Though my parents would help me, my dad couldn't resist the temptation for a lecture. And I just sat there, nodding, though the anger rose inside me quickly. "It's not my fault, Dad!"</div><br /><div></div><div>"I would have asked for help."</div><br /><div></div><div>"No, you wouldn't have. You can't say that."</div><br /><div></div><div>"I would have asked my parents for help."</div><br /><div></div><div>Silence. Staring. Fine. You would've asked. In your mind you would've. But when you are in the situation, you don't know. When you are newly married, struggling in your mind to wonder if you've made the right decision as it is, you don't want to ask for help because your husband is wasting away your money at only God knows what.</div><br /><div></div><div>Today, as we stood in the lobby of a bank, waiting for someone to call me in, me and my co-signer, he leaned over and said "I know it's not your fault. You can be happy."</div><br /><div></div><div>My eyes filled with tears. I had to quickly blink them away - I turned to the window.</div><br /><div></div><div>I got a new car. But the depth of what Chris has done still shocks me and amazes me every day with it's hidden surprises and fun. Credit card debt, not getting a loan, still struggling to catch up on everything we are behind in. All the credit cards, student loans. And because of our hectic and frantic catch-up game, and the fact that we still have to survive, I haven't concentrated on paying on time. We have been late, we have been on time, we have paid too little, we have paid too much. And now here we are. Struggling for a fricken' car loan.</div><br /><div></div><div>But I got a car. And I can be happy. My daddy, my protector, the man I have looked up to for my life span - he says I can.</div>A.N.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10895214106779855938noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25030569.post-91888043977690336982007-11-07T18:15:00.000-08:002008-12-11T04:06:10.287-08:00Another Monday night<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130291480246936290" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLPjKbGg0bwcYWT_J5oWjNC5bq_JXeT-Dz2pSFMXjtDXiUCpyo2uQiVvxc2KiSF2BvgVwJKjCAikwwibrNtn-L94LrsphjuY4ZKpIKZjAbDvlmZUn4w6P0ELjothNrFHCzna1O-g/s320/avatarhell_hisevilroyalty66____bloo.jpg" border="0" />He came home on Monday night after his class, looking cracked up. Looking like he did at the beginning of this. Looking fucked up. I confronted him on it immediately. He denied it all. He said he was at his meeting. He said he was not lying anymore and why would he risk it? He didn't want to lose me. I said, I don't care. You're a fucking crackhead. You're an addict. Maybe you relapsed. Just tell the truth.<br /><div></div><br /><div>Still denial.</div><br /><div></div><div>I sent him to Walgreen's to get a drug test. Yes, I did. He called while he was there, asking which test to buy. The one for only crack? Or the one that covers it all. I wanted the one that covers it all, but it is 30 bucks and we are running too low this month. This week. And I was on the phone with Rae, telling her it all. She said to buy the one that covers it all. But by the time I called him back, he had already bought the crack one. The coke one. The one I had originally said. And he had left. I told him to go back; I told him to return it. I would not feel completely secure in the knowledge of sobriety if he didn't test for everything. He didn't go back.</div><br /><div></div><div>He took the test. He was clean. It didn't mean what it should have. It didn't mean anything. Rae said it was good because that was the main problem.</div><br /><div></div><div>It was the same "class" as last week, when he wasn't back until 12:30am. Monday nights. He showed me the signature he had gotten from the teacher that he went, for his PO, but that meant shit, as we all know. What's really going on. </div><br /><div></div><div>What the fuck is going on. I just want the truth. I can be okay, I can be fine, I can be great BY MYSELF. But I cannot be any of those things without knowing the truth.</div><br /><div></div><div>I will not live in a marriage of lies. I told him that if that happens, I won't even mess around with the talk. He will leave. He will call his father to come pick his revoked license ass up - fuck that, he can drive himself for all I care.</div><br /><div></div><div>It is unsettling. But I am fine. I'm better than fine. I will be fine whether or not he is a liar. He does not define me. I do not need him. So bring it on. I'm ready.</div>A.N.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10895214106779855938noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25030569.post-40157788776767597932007-10-31T18:01:00.001-07:002008-12-11T04:06:10.414-08:00No change<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127678548613026226" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLqHYHmhkq2-T49N3f2yEDSwa8de-SRi4exCCNOXIr8JaFjLT5nknmFFKocnoQvBMOAyZuz3IjeNVTT-d6b1whr-bWYmsYGxmkFG0Be9zk_mFxOBJxP40eev0ThNIzBx8dlFbxhA/s400/th_island8.jpg" border="0" />Wow. Eternity, I know. I have been so unmotivated and so busy with work, I just come home and do nothing. Chris and I had a monster of an argument on Monday night. He went to his NA meeting and didn't come home until after midnight. Midnight!! You bloggers are only the second people I am telling about this. Of course, I called my best friend and she walked me through things. What the fuck was he doing? <div><div><div><br /><div>It was horrible. I was catapulted back to 9 months ago. Exactly nine months on Monday. I was panicky, I was scared, I was terrified, I was fucking pissed the fuck off. No answer, no reply, nothing from him. </div><div> </div><div>I layed in bed and wondered how the hell I dealt with this on an almost daily basis. How did I get in bed and sleep? How did I not stay up freaking out all night till his fucking ass got home? How did I do any of that for months at a time? I was in a different mindset then, I must say. I was in survival mode.</div><br /><div>His excuse? Some guy came in who had relapsed and Chris took it upon himself to stay and deal with him. Now, I don't fucking believe his bullshit. I don't believe it. But I know he wasn't doing drugs. I know what he was like before and that wasn't it, that Monday night. And he had been so excited that it was his 9-month anniversary. But I have no clue what he was doing. </div><br /><div>Either way, whether or not he was telling the truth, answer your fucking phone. Pick it up and say you're alive. Pick up the fucking phone and say that yes, you are not arrested. Pick it up and text back. That was the worst part. </div><br /><div>I know it was only one time. But he has not changed. I could justify his behavior in my head when he was on crack. It was the drugs. It was the drugs. But when he is clean and sober and "learned his lesson," he still goes out and does the same fucking thing. He has not made one single ounce of progress. That is what hurts the worst. The fact that I thought he was different. I thought he had changed. But he really hasn't. When it is broken down, I am still not the first priority. I am still not the number one and only one. </div><br /><div>I can't even explain it adequately but I hope you all understand. I hope you understand how disappointing it was to realize that he is the same person, it just takes a different thing to make him behave that way. It didn't matter that it was the crack. It didn't matter that it was a guy who relapsed. As long as he feels that their is something else that warrants more attention or need, he will choose that over his own fucking wife. He will choose that over me. </div><br /><div>My mind has froze.</div></div></div></div>A.N.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10895214106779855938noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25030569.post-50171796480123775262007-10-19T07:15:00.000-07:002008-12-11T04:06:10.647-08:00Annoyed Easily<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123066821951472354" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgExEeW8lmI41OR_dLUYkZ65tCynaV1EECbIpa8UPdtlV3h3_1vzy2On7sM45DRgnnM8QrSwf7R5mUyGMxHvbZPGjISWm_dDl_IFf6wpk6DUXjI3lT_FTOsBL3litHiH3qEnmNB8A/s200/IMG_1238.jpg" border="0" />There are so many different people in the world. And it's so funny to me how few of them I can put up with. Hah. I am even laughing at myself as I wrote that. <div><br /><div>In starting this new job, it took quite awhile before I felt comfortable to be myself with anyone. And it took quite awhile before I made "friends." And now I am finally at that place of comfortability and honesty. Mostly. It only took a fricken month. </div><br /><div>I sometimes wonder what people think about me. I am so judgemental. And it usually isn't trying to be mean to people, I just get a vibe and go off that until or unless it steers me wrong. But I wonder how people view me. I am so sarcastic and I am sure unless someone knows me it comes across so bitchy. In fact, the girls I eat lunch with say I am the bitchiest one of them all. One girl says she likes it - she says she likes that I tell it like it is. And sometimes I pride myself in that, but other times I just wonder if I am being mean or too negative.</div><br /><div>Another girl describes me as that. Negative. I call it being a "realist." Of course, there is great negativity in that, but that is just who I am. </div><br /><div>When I first started this job, I was so quiet. I kept to myself and didn't let my sarcasm drip over and didn't let anything come out of my mouth at all. But then I started to open up a little, and I wondered if people were thinking "Who is this? She used to be so shy." I wonder if people have a sense of these things, like knowing that I was only acting shy because I was new but that I would come out of my shell as things got going. </div><br /><div>I like to see who I can trust or who I can be my full self with. I don't want to offend with my rudeness. I know some people can stomach people like me and some can't. Some get offended. I went through a phase where I would say "You are Satan!" when someone was being mean or rude. I was totally kidding and would always laugh after, but once someone got offended and confronted me about it. </div><br /><div>I wanted to see who could handle my sarcasm. I wanted to know who I could be myself with before I truly let it explode out. And for the most part, I can be myself now. But some people I am still cautious around.</div><br /><div>And then there are first impressions that I take from people. There is one girl that completely rubbed me the wrong way. She is loud, always complaining, and controlling. She thinks she is right about everything. Her experience in social welfare is vast and she doesn't fail to let everyone know. I find it quite annoying. I find HER quite annoying. But maybe that is just her before she knows people, like the way I was. I doubt it though.</div><br /><div>A girl I eat with tells me I have a low tolerance for people. I find that amusing, given the field I'm in. But perhaps she's right. I can read people well. Yet even when I say that I think of Chris. I could read him. I knew something wasn't right. I knew he was not doing what he said he was. But I just didn't, couldn't, wouldn't figure out what.</div><br /><div>So in reading people well, I see how many of them I don't like. I see how many things I get annoyed with. I see how some people are so stupid. I am annoyed and judge easily. Maybe too easily. </div><br /><div>So now that everyone reading this hates me, I will go back to work.</div></div>A.N.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10895214106779855938noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25030569.post-26153359147705014422007-10-15T12:09:00.000-07:002007-10-15T12:35:04.626-07:00TruthI guess I’m back. I will be honest – I am completely unmotivated. I have been completely unmotivated to do anything. It is not like I am sitting at home depressed. I just have no motivation. If I plan to do something, then I look forward to it and will do it with everything I have. But lately, I don’t look forward to much and I don’t plan much.<br /><br />I am aggravated easily.<br /><br />Something bad happened a couple days ago. Not bad like Chris using again. But bad, like I got the truth when I don’t really know if I wanted it. I do that a lot. I ask question of him: “Where did you do it? Did you do it in my car? Did you smoke with other girls? Did you do it everyday? How many times a day? Did you do it on our wedding day?” Etc., etc., etc. The list can go on.<br /><br />With my new job, I find myself driving around the city to visits and wondering if he did it here, or there. If he was in this dangerous place or that one. And so my curiosity finally got the best of me. We went on walk the other day and I asked him. I asked him everything I could think of. The questions come up a lot. They don’t ever stop. I could simply be singing away in my car, minding my own business, and BAM. A question. Something I need to know.<br /><br />So on this particular day, I got a bunch of things answered. I found out where he did it – the specific streets. Streets I travel on. I found out that he lied, again. Ever since the truth came out, and I say that because I will not say “ever since he came clean” because he didn’t. He did not come clean with me. He did not willingly say to me that he was a crackhead. No, he was arrested. He was caught and that is how it came out.<br /><br />So I will say again, ever since the truth came out, I lived with that. I lived with what I knew. I had my own image of what he did on a daily, nightly, weekly basis. But after all my questions poured out of me like vomit, I found out that not only was he doing crack on those days, he was also going to the casino two or three times a week with our money. OUR money. Apparently it wasn’t enough that he was buying crack to shove into his lungs, he also needed to waste our money at a fucking casino.<br /><br />After he came out, and he had the one friend I approved of left over, they wanted to go to the casino. I figured that this was a relatively safe, fun, un-drug-using activity. I’m not a moron though. I know it’s addicting behavior and he has an addictive personality. But I didn’t want to restrict him on everything. And this kid was decent.<br /><br />So off he went to be an addict. Off he went to gamble away our money. So when he told me that he used to go to the casino all the time when he was doing drugs, I cannot even tell you how that made me feel.<br /><br />The fact that here I was, thinking I was being nice, thinking I was letting him rarely, sometimes go to the casino, when all along he had been going dozens of times, stealing my money, and enjoying himself made me sick. It made me so mad, infuriated. I could not even comprehend the anger I felt. If I had known, if I had had ONE little inkling, I never in a million years would have let him go to the casino when he had been going there all along.<br /><br />I felt horrified. I felt betrayed. And what I can name now – taken advantage of. My kindness after EVERYTHING he had put me, us, our marriage through, and he had been doing it all along, was undeserved. I would have GLADLY taken away that privilege if I had known that that is another place all of our money went to. Just writing about it now makes me so unbelievably mad. Does it make sense? Does anyone else understand what I am saying?<br /><br />The simple fact that I thought I was being nice. I thought I was being NICE. And he was just taking more of our money to a place I never knew he went to THREE TIMES a week. I would have banned that place from him. It hurts.<br /><br />Do I really want to know all these little truths that may mean nothing to him but sting me down to my bone? Do I really want them to keep coming out over the years? Or is ignorance bliss.A.N.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10895214106779855938noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25030569.post-52149626185943270632007-10-07T11:51:00.000-07:002007-10-07T11:54:39.891-07:00EeksAll right, I know it has been almost a week since I have written. But for some reason my stupid wireless card has STILL not arrived and at this point, it's pretty pointless. I will be going home to my lovely laptop which is not in a basement in two days. I promise to read and write and catch up and contribute to CF then. I miss it so much!<br /><br />Things have been going well. Since I can't read everyone's blogs right now, I hope everything is going well with all of you too.I feel like I am missing out on all of my friend's lives!<br /><br />I don't want this to be a pointless post, but I wanted you all to know that I am still alive and out here and only two more days until I am back into the full-fledged world of blogging. I hope you all don't think that I fell off the face of the earth! I will see you all then!A.N.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10895214106779855938noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25030569.post-42624172328669105992007-10-02T09:38:00.000-07:002007-10-02T09:42:09.611-07:00AddictedI don’t know what my problem is. There is something about me. Or something about them. Addicts, that is. I have been realizing it this weekend, incredibly. Everyone close to me in my life, besides my family, is an addict. Literally everyone. There is Rae and there is S, and there is Chris. Those are the three people closest to me right now.<br /><br />Rae had a horrible childhood. She was in the drug scene as a teenager to the extent of almost unbelievability. And now, she is no longer in that life style, so while she may not be addicted to anything anymore (besides going to the bars every weekend and getting wasted), she was in the drug field.<br /><br />Then there is S. Drug and alcohol addict. A week in recovery. Who knows how long it will last.<br /><br />Chris – my husband. Drugs are his poison of choice. Recovering now for almost eight months. His life was much like Rae’s. So involved in the drug scene – I do not understand it.<br /><br />So what is about me? Or what is it about them? What attracts me to them? Or them to me? I am addicted to addicts. That is my addiction.<br /><br />Is it my innate need to cure? To comfort? To take care of all helpless things? My love for animals is a passionate part of me; could it be that it is because they, too, need someone to look out for them? Is that why I am the way I am? Is that why Social Work is my profession? Because I need to care for those who can’t care for themselves?<br /><br />Let me fix you and protect you and show you someone loves you and is there for you. Let me show you that someone will always be there – dependable and reliable and responsible to the point of being flawed. To the point that someone can run over me and leave me crippled.<br /><br />It’s an interesting viewpoint – one I may have addressed before. But this weekend more than ever did it become clear to me. It was a weekend filled with Rae and S and Chris and all things addicty, conversational and otherwise, and that is what I concluded. That I’m addicted to addicts.A.N.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10895214106779855938noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25030569.post-91442814762021665752007-09-29T10:06:00.000-07:002007-09-29T10:14:24.281-07:00At my parent'sI tell you, the computer life is not coming easy with me lately! Now my wireless card died. Yes, it really sucks.<br /><br />I am house-sitting and dog-sitting while my parents are in Italy for almost two weeks! Yay for them! But, I would like to get on my own computer and read Cunty and type my own Cunty and do all sorts of things that my parents wouldn't approve of. But I can't because my wireless card hates me. So now I have to wait in the mail for one to be sent to me. It sucks. The senders better hurry up or I will have to kick some sender's b-u-t-t.<br /><br />I am in a rare mood today. I am feeling better and optimistic about the job - finally. I have my own cases now and I am still the secondary person on them, but that is fine. I need time to learn. I am also getting to know the people I work with better and I am starting to like them as well.<br /><br />Last night I went out with my best friend and we had a few drinks. We were supposed to go out for lunch today with S but my friend is not answering her phone. I hope everything is okay. Also, for those of you who were concerned and who remember, she (Rae) ended up breaking up with that guy. The possessive one. He still calls and she still fights with him, but they are no longer together. I feel really bad. She went through a lot for him and is left with nothing.<br /><br />My ex-friend who was my ex-lover, for all of you who remember that, called yesterday and I did not answer the call. I was proud of myself for that.<br /><br />I really want to get back to reading everyone's blogs and being at my parent's is the perfect time to do that, if only I had my computer. I hope it will be soon. I miss the cats and birds at home, but Chris has been going over there to spend time with them and I have went for a little each day as well.<br /><br />All right, that was a jumbled heap of information but I do not have much time and I hate being in this centipedie basement. Until next time!A.N.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10895214106779855938noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25030569.post-54608063492776001602007-09-25T17:58:00.000-07:002008-12-11T04:06:10.961-08:00Trust Issues<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6ph6p8jE08KS6SpW6uaMCiqiS95s-0tziZS7t7XbUAP6NcJ9AqdYH_gSRXJhpHtR38BxkTptmRkF8Kvd-6dlGsWmWapx1tJWG-17MpVToHMev4mWvUTtTjTJ8ALhW-mPFPX8kAg/s1600-h/creditcard.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114316569115214530" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6ph6p8jE08KS6SpW6uaMCiqiS95s-0tziZS7t7XbUAP6NcJ9AqdYH_gSRXJhpHtR38BxkTptmRkF8Kvd-6dlGsWmWapx1tJWG-17MpVToHMev4mWvUTtTjTJ8ALhW-mPFPX8kAg/s200/creditcard.jpg" border="0" /></a>It's funny how before this job, I lived for going onto Blogger and reading everyone's blogs. Now I am so beyond busy ... I barely have time to do anything! When I get home, I just want to eat and walk and watch TV and do nothing with the computer. I love reading your blogs and writing in my home, but I feel so swamped with everything else - I simply have no energy to read anything!<br /><div></div><br /><div>It was so helpful to read everyone's blogs when Chris first came out of the addiction closet. This was exactly what I needed and continues to be so. I just wanted to thank you all so much - the ones of you who are new to me, and the ones who have been with me from the beginning. Thanks for being there then, with the hundreds of posts, and now, with the few I have time for.</div><br /><div></div><div>Chris is doing so much better, it seems. There's that word again - seems. Like I said in an earlier post, seems. I don't want to claim to know if I don't. I don't want to look oblivious if he is not. Which I obviously would be because I don't see anything like the past right now. So to me, he is good. It is nice to not to worry about where he is, who he is with, when he'll be back, why he isn't answering his phone, etc.</div><br /><div></div><div>Don't get me wrong. I am still constantly worrying about the money. It sucks. I hate it. Why am I still worried? What is he doing? Is he buying cigarettes, which he claims he does not smoke, with the credit card? What is he buying? I hate that. I want to know when I will start trusting again. I want to start trusting again. I want to not doubt what he is saying. How do I do that? How can I get over it?</div>A.N.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10895214106779855938noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25030569.post-38598164619406465472007-09-22T10:48:00.000-07:002008-12-11T04:06:11.286-08:00Bored<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRD-qz_aJjT_zqhAfw2axZf33SZjIc7IyFVwiWc8HG5zaf99RJzKQlaZvEWRUMYivMcZk3Hj_YH3qm1vLSL9mnDQoC_ebuBcg9d11sRCkZSW9q79zcghDoc3Y2a8felbmGc1Y8BA/s1600-h/me.png"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113089969405149874" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRD-qz_aJjT_zqhAfw2axZf33SZjIc7IyFVwiWc8HG5zaf99RJzKQlaZvEWRUMYivMcZk3Hj_YH3qm1vLSL9mnDQoC_ebuBcg9d11sRCkZSW9q79zcghDoc3Y2a8felbmGc1Y8BA/s200/me.png" border="0" /></a>I am sick of talking about my job, though that seems to be the only thing that is going on lately. It is still a huge transition that I am slowly processing. It's actually taken a lot longer than normal job changes, and it is a lot harder too. But I am sure you are all so deathly sick of me talking about my job.<br /><div></div><br /><div>So. Chris is doing well. He is still attending NA every week, twice a week as court-ordered, and I am loving my free time when he is gone. This is sounding like a strange update to my life, and I guess it is. When nothing else is going on, I have nothing to give but updates!</div><br /><div></div><div>My friend got engaged last night, does that matter to anyone? I don't know. I will stop boring you now. It's a good thing nothing is going on because that means no drama in my life. But it's also a bad thing because you are all bored with my life. Hah.</div>A.N.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10895214106779855938noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25030569.post-91312016559730539802007-09-19T18:34:00.001-07:002007-09-19T18:35:59.768-07:00NothingNothing new to report. It's weird to be back! Nothing much is going on. Training is going okay. Pretty boring. I can't wait to be out of it! I'm sure I will wish I was back in training then. Haha.<br /><br />There is some stuff going on that I will report about when I know more information or when I feel it is appropriate and safe. Don't worry. I am fine.<br /><br />Hopefully, I will have more to report tomorrow!A.N.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10895214106779855938noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25030569.post-78991617114583534692007-09-17T12:28:00.000-07:002008-12-11T04:06:11.776-08:00I'm back!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfBjnK6RTZQe3JPvt8E2bFwutIA9hlcqF6eDQk1tOmtgzV_3rmXiTFXhh_2QZYlj4qet3CZLVtounwOofX4Fd0WFwwHVrc8YKb81QcyCRa5C1oxH8sZS8E2PrOBuyEVkcqlHnfZg/s1600-h/keepcomingback.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111267245509430306" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfBjnK6RTZQe3JPvt8E2bFwutIA9hlcqF6eDQk1tOmtgzV_3rmXiTFXhh_2QZYlj4qet3CZLVtounwOofX4Fd0WFwwHVrc8YKb81QcyCRa5C1oxH8sZS8E2PrOBuyEVkcqlHnfZg/s200/keepcomingback.jpg" border="0" /></a>I'm back from the computer death! I got my new hard drive in the mail over the weekend, and I put it in and my dad's computer guy fixed more problems and now I am back to share all about my last week that has felt like eternity!<br /><div></div><br /><div>I started my new job. It has been all right so far. This training stuff is killing me though! I know it's something we have to do - I definitely need it because I feel so inexperienced. I know I am, but I hate starting new jobs where I feel like a retard. A new girl was starting at the same time as me, and it turns out she's not so new. Truth is, she has been working in SW for years and years - she's just new to the agency. I really hate that. I know nothing. I feel so out of place. I hate change and I hate the feeling I get with change. I feel depressed and like I wish and want to be back at my old job though I did absolutely nothing there recently. Bored out of my mind.</div><br /><div></div><div>Speaking of y old job, I got a call last night from S. He said he anted to give me a heads up. M, my office manager had a meeting with B. S and I had both quit (long story about S) and she wanted to take this opportunity to talk to him about his behavior. About taking people for granted, and being grateful with the hard jobs people did. </div><br /><div></div><div>It ended up backfiring in her face. B pulled out a letter - a letter I had written in May, or around there, complaining about M for the way she treated me and Rae. It was at a time where she made me cry and I wrote a letter venting. I had no full intentions of giving it to B. But Rae insisted we do so and she printed it out. I was nervous and unsure, but figured he had a right to know to make any necessary changed. B read it and even criticized when I said one nice thing about M, as if that was too much to ask. The letter was full of evilness and snobbery - a definite letter of venting. And B promised up and down that it was confidential.</div><br /><div></div><div>Until he changed his mind yesterday apparently and showed or at least told M about the letter and asked why she was sticking up for me and S, especially me, since I wrote this letter. She was caught off guard. It was a huge mess, I'm told, and I didn't appreciate getting a call or crying over this. I don't even work there anymore - I should not have been dragged into it. Also, that was a really fucked up thing to do. I came to him in a confidentiality and I don't care if he felt cornered by M. That was immature and rude.</div><br /><div></div><div>It made me so mad. I was furious. I wanted to call and yell at him, but S told me not to for now. S, M, Rae and I ended up going out to the bar on Friday night where it came to light how perverted, disgusting, graphic and wrong B was. Which will lead me to my next Cuntface post.</div><br /><div></div><div>So, that is what I have been dealing with. </div><br /><div></div><div>But I am glad to be back! I need to go read everyone's and catch up now!</div>A.N.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10895214106779855938noreply@blogger.com5