Does This Make Me Crazy?

Does it make me totally self-unaware that I cannot fathom why I do the things I do….? It’s almost like I am split in two at this point. I am the same-old responsible goodie-two-shoes I have always been for 99% of the time. But, then sometimes a naughtier me takes over. And I kinda like her, but I am also afraid to like her. Last Wednesday I met Samuel (names have been changed to protect the innocent….). I wrote a post about meeting up with him beforehand, but I never posted it (see below). Let’s just say that the initial evening was very nice and then things ended in a way my responsible self is less than pleased with….. Then the next day I got a foster child and everything changed for me. Now, tonight Roland is supposed to come over for dinner but Flaco is in the hospital after a stupid Memorial Day stunt, so all plans are up in the air. Everything else in my life seems rather neat and tidy, except when it comes to the male of our species. And here is where I cannot figure myself out. I am not stupid. I know I deserve the best when it comes to relationships. I deserve to be treated kindly and with respect. I demand that of any friend and would not be friends with someone who isn’t respectful or kind. Flaco is not and has not always been kind nor respectful. And yet I am entangled with him in such a way I sometimes I feel like I will never get out…. And I screwed things up with Samuel (at least I am certain I have) not to mention the fact that there is a Samuel/Roland issue to begin with…. I am feeling like a nunnery in some god forsaken tundra might be in order. I guess I have a lot of fodder for my next therapy session……

5/23 –

I am very excited to see Samuel tonight. When we set up our meeting via Facebook Monday night, he asked me to text him and remind him because he tends to be forgetful. So, at lunch today I sent him the friendly reminder. He responded that he had not forgotten and planned to be there. There, being Dunkin Donuts near my place. I am excited to see Samuel in a way I haven’t been for any of the other outings I have been on in the past few months. Previously, I felt like going out was a chore. Get dressed nice, ugh! Drive to meet somewhere, bleck! Chit-chat and find things to talk about, eh. Be friendly and be myself, but not too gregarious to give them “other” ideas, must I? My heart wasn’t in it for sure. But, now? My heart feels light and well, happy. It is strange. I don’t know why it is different with Samuel. Right now, I don’t want to question it too much because my heart has not felt light like this in a long time. Certainly not since February. Why must I over-analyze everything?

At lunch today at work, I was telling a friend about Samuel. We were speaking in Spanish so other co-workers couldn’t understand us (rude, I guess but I don’t need everyone knowing my business). She was so excited when I told her about Samuel being from Argentina. My friend is from Mexico and she is married to an American man. Her son’s name is actually Samuel’s real name, so she told me this made her like him already! Anyway, she thinks Argentinean men are the sexiest and have the sexiest accent. I told her I wasn’t really crazy about the Argentinean accent (in my opinion, it sounds too much like Spain Spanish with the lisp and slurring, which I don’t like), and she wacked me on the arm and said I was totally crazy. Her excitement bolstered my own and so now I am practically bubbling over with it! I’m still at work as I type this, but I don’t plan on posting anything until after our outing. I guess it is a good thing to have something to look forward to, something new and exciting.

But, at the same time I am nervous. I am on the cusp of cutting things off with Roland and I worry that if Samuel does not turn out to be the kind of man I think he is, then I might have lost out on an opportunity for something with someone genuine. But, at the same time, I am chafing at the slowness and the lack of excitement in my relationship (I use this word lightly) with Roland. I think I am a lot more spontaneous than he is and more lively, which is strange since he is in a band….. I need someone to run with, to seek adventures, and jump into things together. Roland seems more cautious than I am, which is not a bad thing, but it does tend to bring out my more brash side. I want to do something crazy to shake him up a bit and that isn’t great. With Samuel, I feel like we would be tit-for-tat, one equally egging on the other. And not in a bad peer-pressure kind of way, but in a lets-go-see-the-world kind of way. I don’t know how to explain it. Someone tell me I am not losing my mind altogether!

In other news, I got a call from CHOR yesterday about a potential referral. Given past issues, I am sorry to say this is all I will mention about the subject. I was pleased to get a call a week after handing in the letter, but they have not called back today to confirm I will be getting the child, so I am assuming something else has occurred. I realize that things might change if I become a foster mother again – it won’t be so easy to pop out for some coffee – but, that might be a good thing given my propensity for insanity at this point.

I have been thinking about timing lately. Am I jumping into things too soon? Who is to say what is too soon? Flaco has been gone for well over 3 months now. In the grand scheme of things, that is not a long time. It is a mere fraction of the time we were together. But, I am not one who likes to sit and dwell on things, especially unsavory things. I would rather jump back on the horse, even if that means I am more likely to fall again and soon. I try to look at the hot mess I call my life from an outsiders perspective and I think I would be of the opinion that this chick is rushing into things. But, I know me. And I know that if I don’t move on, I will keep letting Flaco come back and use me. If I don’t have the barrier of other interests between us, Flaco will just assume he can come around whenever he likes. And, I remember that he has already done his share of screwing around, mere weeks after he left, so I’m moving like molasses compared to him…… Not that I want to be compared to him….. Plus, other than disgusting Carlos shoving his disgusting tongue down my throat, I have not even kissed another man since Flaco. I haven’t held anyone’s hand, I haven’t wrapped my arms around another man, nothing. I know I am not ready for any of that quite yet. So, I am going to cut myself a break. I’m going to let go for now and just be. I am going to live in the moment, not worry about what this moment will lead to or not lead to or what might happen after that….. And, this whole Samuel thing feels a little serendipitous to me. What are the odds that this person who I met briefly in church over 2 years ago would come into my job and remember me not long after my marriage dissolved and his relationship ended? Could this be a divine chance encounter? I guess the only way to find out is to drink some coffee and charlar…..  

This would be funny, if it weren't happening to me.....

I am in trouble. I have been kind of seeing this guy, let’s call him Roland. Well, we have been out a grand total of three times. Each time we end up talking for many hours about random topics, but hardly ever about ourselves. Roland is kind and the perfect gentleman. We have not kissed or even held hands, so things are moving very slowly. I have not seen Roland in over two weeks. I like Roland as a person and as a friend. But, there are no sparks, no feelings of potential. My parents and some friends subscribe to the school of thought that this might be a good thing. It might take genuine feelings time to grow. And besides, Flaco hasn’t been gone that long, so I run the risk of having a rebound relationship if the feelings take over my mental facilities. I get that. And I think this is why I am still hanging in there for the time being. And this strange new reality was kosher with me. Until yesterday……

A few weeks ago at work there was someone who looked very familiar to me waiting at the front desk. During one of my many glances in his direction, he met my eyes. Recognition sparked and he asked, “Do I know you?” As it turned out, we used to go to church together at La Roca de Reading. And, most recently, we met at my friend Elizabeth’s wedding reception in October. We spoke for a few minutes, enough for him to tell me about his impending missions trip to Guatemala and to ask about my current status (unattached). I gave him a business card, in case he had questions about registering with our office, thinking I would never hear from him again. Last week he emailed me and I was only able to respond to the email yesterday. He called and then came in to see me in the afternoon. We had a nice discussion both professional and personal and I even helped explain program options to his mother in Spanish. Samuel is originally from Argentina, but he speaks English fluently. His mother’s Argentinean accent was somewhat hard for me to understand, but I made do. Anyway, as we are conversing, Samuel gave me his cell number and invited me out to coffee. I gave him my number and said that would be nice. You see, there were some sparks, there was something that is so lacking with Roland. So, Samuel text me last night and we also ended up messaging back and forth on Facebook. We agreed to have coffee tomorrow after work.

And here is the trouble. Yesterday, Roland revealed to me he suffers from bouts of depression as a way of explaining his absence in the past two weeks. I feel bad, knowing that he is dealing with this nasty inner demon. But, I am also feeling a little frustrated. Flaco never spent enough quality time with me and I hated that. I do not want the same thing all over again, even if the reason is different this time. If I am honest with myself, I am much more interested in Samuel. But, this also has me worried. Because it kind of reminds me of how things began with Flaco – sparks and flames and well, you get the picture. And the Good Lord knows I do not need another Flaco in my life. I am more cautious now, which is a good thing. I don’t want to hurt anyone, least of all myself. A friend of mine suggested I just play the field a little bit right now, have some fun and forget about serious things like feelings. Eh, but that’s just not me. That is not appealing to me and I know I would hate it in the end and probably end up hating myself as well. I am not saying I want to run into anything serious either. What I am saying is I want “it” to be easy at this point. Being with Roland is not really easy and I am not 100% sure why that is. To me, Samuel is more exciting, he is more refreshing to be around (at least in the few times I have been in his presence). Roland is too much of a conundrum for me, too swirly and somewhat morose. So, I am getting coffee with Samuel and we shall see where things go.

You know, I just re-read that last part and for all my protestations of not wanting to play the field, that sure seems like what I am doing. I am beginning to worry that I will never again find contentment in a relationship for fear it too will fail and I will have to endure another separation. Then too, I fear I am just jumping in for the sake of jumping in and very soon this house of cards will come toppling down around me. I sound like a nut, a hussy nut. I am certainly my own worst enemy and I hope I do not drive myself off the ledge……  

Back in the Game

Last night I attended a resource parent appreciation event at CHOR. It was a nice simple affair, to thank the foster families for all they do for the children in their care. It was strange for me to go alone, but thankfully my friend was there as was the former baby-sitter, so I knew two people. Consuelo was there, and was kind to me as always. It was a bit strange meeting the supervisor who had “the talk” with me, but I figured best to get out and let them see I’m not some damaged little weakling, rather than hide in shame. Unfortunately, I could not stay for the entire event because I had a therapy session. But, we had a nice meal and as I was leaving Consuelo gave me the cutest little planter, a certificate of appreciation (I wonder if that seemed incongruous to them?), and beautiful Sorreli earrings. Consuelo also asked about the letter from my therapist. She told me they have been getting a lot of referrals and she would really like to see them place a child with me.

Last week Monday, I was out having dinner with a friend, and my cell phone rang. I have CHOR programmed into my phone and when I saw the name, my heart did a flip-flop, since I hadn’t heard from them in a long time. It was Consuelo and she wanted to know what was going on, if I was still planning on being a foster parent, since she had not yet received a letter from my therapist. I let her know I would get on it, that I had mentioned it to my therapist and he said he would write the letter and apparently had not. So, I called the office. I hate calling this office because it is impossible to get to speak to an actual person. Shouldn’t they try not to make anxious, up-tight people less anxious and up-tight? Anyway, the woman I spoke with suggested I leave a message for my therapist (his name is Greg) letting him know it was urgent. I did this and he called me at work last week, asking me to ask my case worker (Consuelo) what she wanted in the letter. He asked me to write a letter and bring it along to my next session, which was last night. He told me last night that he had no idea I was so adamant about being a foster mother. Despite my unfounded fear he would declare me unfit, he actually felt it would be good for me to be a foster parent. He said helping someone else is sometimes a therapeutic recommendation to help people grieving and dealing with difficulties in their lives. So, I have the letter to give to Consuelo which will put me back in the running as a foster parent. I am strangely excited.

I don’t really have much other news. Healing is rather boring, like watching paint dry or grass grow. Speaking of grass, I mowed mine for the first time since I moved into my house 5 ½ years ago. It was one of the only things Flaco would do without me telling him to do it. I guess he liked it. It doesn’t bother me, in fact I found it oddly empowering. It’s just one more thing I have conquered, at this point. 

The Most Awful Day of the Year

I f-ing hate mother's day. I wish I could hibernate through this whole dam weekend. That wouldn't be fair to my mother, so I put on a happy face and mutter through. I am in a funk today. I want to be busy little beaver cleaning my house, pulling weeds. I should be spending time with my sister who is visit from DC. But, instead I want to RAGE. I want to scream and cry and throw things. I don't know quite why. Perhaps, part of it is mother's day. Perhaps part of it is that my fourth wedding anniversary would have been Thursday (5/10). Some of it is my feeling of entrapment financially. I am very stuck here, in this house, with little finances to do a total make-over as I would very much like to do. And some of it is stems from this guy I am seeing. He's calling me his girlfriend. But, I haven't seen him in over a week. And we have only seen each other three times total and two of those times it was at my behest. I am waiting for him to think of something. I guess, he thought the first time he asked me out would be the only time..... I don't know. And, I know he is way more into me than I am into him. Don't get me wrong, I like him. But, I don't have any romantic feelings towards him. More than one friend has said that in the beginning perhaps that isn't as important. Feelings need time to grow. Well, it wasn't like that with Flaco. There was (and sometimes still is) an immediate magnetic attraction. Not love at first sight but something pretty dam close. I guess you could argue, "well, look where that got you." And to some extent you would be right. But, does that mean I will spend my life without that passion? That burning desire that makes you want that other person with every fibre of your being? I don't know. I just fucking hate things right now. I try hard not to hate my life at the present moment, because things could be so, so, so, so much worse in the grand scheme of things. But, here I sit on a beautiful Saturday afternoon. Crying. Wishing I could have woken up in someones arms this morning. Wishing I could feel those feelings of romantic love again. Instead, I am here alone. Doing wash and trying to convince myself to get the house cleaned and the weeds pulled. Telling myself that things aren't that bad, they will get better, and I should be grateful for what I do have like my health and great friends and a loving family...... But, I can't stop sobbing. And feeling pretty dam sorry for myself. And hating myself for feeling sorry for myself. Told you I was in quite a funk..... I feel like I am suffocating. I feel like I have a tiny match to hold against the encroaching, all encompassing, looking darkness that threatens to gobble me up and whisk me away for good. I am standing at the precipice and losing all my ability to keep from tumbling down, down, down into oblivion. I put on a CD I made for myself with positive songs that remind me to hang on, this too shall pass. But, my evil mind keeps playing over the bad things, the things I cannot control, the things I don't like to think about right now. I don't know why today this all seems to overwhelm me. For a long time I was doing pretty good - no tears, not feeling sorry for myself, finding that girl power thing..... Not today. I am weak today. I could use as hug today. I want to climb back into bed and cry myself to sleep. I have been thinking this morning that I think I need to stop seeing this guy or any guy. Clearly, I don't have much to offer at the moment, Just confusion and sadness and brokenness. I need to find the woman I am all alone. The woman who is ok with being thirty and motherless and single. I need to find the happy me under all this shit. But, I fear she doesn't exist. I feel like all I wanted from life was to have a happy marriage and a happy family. And for some reason, that makes no sense to me, I don't get to have what I want. Not even a little bit. I used to think being an adult meant making decisions to get what you want. But, now I realize that being an adult means making decisions and never getting what you want. I don't think my steam of consciences makes sense anymore, so I will sign off. There are other up-dates, but they will have to wait. For now, I just need to try to breathe.......

Now You're Just Someone I used to know.....

     My trip to LA was rather cathartic. I was very diligent about not thinking about anything “back home” during my time on the other side of the country. And, we were so busy that I hardly had time to breathe, let alone think! There were some pangs of sadness, like when I met up with my friend Maria and her Nicaraguan husband who happens to be Flaco’s best friend (or they were, but Flaco has not been in touch with him as he seems hell bent on self-destruction at this point….). Seeing them together reminded me of the fleeting good memories that have been over-shadowed by the nastiness of the end of things. My last day in LA, literally as I was checking out of the hotel and heading to the airport, I got a phone call from a withheld number. Curiosity caused me to answer and it was a woman who claimed to be a neighbor of Flaco’s. She was prompted to call me by someone who works with him in the restaurant to tell me he has had numerous women over to his place and they wanted to be sure I knew about it. I flipped shit. I told this woman, who refused to give me her name, that I didn’t give two shits about what he was doing, we were separated and if he wants to bang ghetto whores that is his business. She wanted to make sure I knew, so he wasn’t tricking me or pulling anything over on me. It was a rude wake-up call that I was about to be back in the thick of things. Reality bites. I called Flaco and told him to be more discrete because I did not appreciate him dragging my good name through the mud, etc.  I wish I could say that I wasn’t hurt by all of this, but I was. It makes me sick to my stomach how much he has changed in the very short time we have not been together.      
     But, I try not to dwell on these things. I am trying to take Joyce Myer’s advise and forgive him, but  right now I am finding it hard. I would like to say that I haven’t wished all kinds of evil upon him, but I have. I’m working on being the better person here. Truly I am. I want to be the best me I can be, in body, mind, and soul. I have my work cut out for me! But, I must believe that something will come from all of this insanity. If I must endure all this heartache, it will be for a reason, even if that means making up a reason. I will improve and grow. I already like who I am as a person. I think I have a nice personality, I am kind and I try to be good and moral and do the right things. But, there is room to grow for sure. I am impetuous and short tempered, letting my anger and irritation get the best of me on more occasions than I would like to admit. And, I need to like all of me. For most of my life (I would say since 3rd grade at least) I have despised my body. I have always wanted to look like someone else. Yet, contradictory as it may sound, I never did anything to improve my physical being. Time for that to change too. We went hiking in LA (Runyan Canyon) and it was a wake-up call to just how out of shape I am right now. It made me mad. There are a lot of things I want to do in life – like hiking up to Machu Pichu – that I won’t be able to do if my body is in such poor shape. Flaco used to bring up my weight a lot and it used to make me feel worse and add to the self-deprecation. It never spurred me into action. Now, in my quest for self-betterment, I want my body to be as strong as I am emotionally. So, I am making life-style changes. Slowly. First, I have not been sleeping well since I got home in part due to my general insomnia and also because I was out with someone last night (more on this in a bit). So, I need to get myself on a better sleep schedule to ensure I get the prescribed 8 hours of sleep (my average is 6, last night I got roughly 5). Next, I am going to devise a weekly menu prior to grocery shopping to ensure I am adding more vegetables and fruits into my diet. Rather than the egg sandwich I have every morning, I am going to have a spinach quiche or a fruit and yogurt smoothie. Finally, I will be adding more activity into my life. I’m not a runner, although I wish I could be, but I am going to save up and get a bike. I might even teach the dogs to run alongside the bike so we can all get some fresh air. I don’t want to join a gym, at least not at this stage in the game. One, the financial burden and also, I’m way to self-conscious and I have no idea what I am doing in a gym. I will start out slow. I know, or I have heard, it takes 21 days to create a habit (or break one, for that matter) so my goal is to throw myself into these changes for 21 days in hopes that it becomes an ingrained routine. Fingers crossed.      
     So, I went out last night. I guess you could call this a third date. He certainly has been calling our outings dates. I despise that word, it makes me feel juvenile and reminds me I am not where I want to be at this point in my life. But, I think he wants to put the romantic touch on it, so date it is. Mostly, we go somewhere first and then end up talking for hours. Last night we went to first Thursdays in West Reading. It’s an area just outside the city that has a lot of cute shops, like cupcake shops, clothing, jewelry, cafes, and restaurants. We walked a bit and then stopped to watch a live band before having dinner. Then we sat in my car and talked until midnight. We talked about the TV show Madmen, Egyptian mummies and pyramids, super volcanoes, creation vs. evolution, and the Bermuda triangle. We are rather random, but I enjoy the mental exertion of our discussions. I’m a dork, what can I say? So, our times out have been nice, but I feel something missing. Passion. A friend of mine keeps urging me to not “screw things up” because he is very kind and respectful (he has not tried to put any moves on me at all, which I appreciate and all, but I hope it’s out of politeness and not that there is no desire there…..). And he seems ready to start labeling “us” in some way (before my trip he asked me, basically, where I thought this was going and I have him some vague answer about not wanting to label anything and that I saw us in an ambiguous state – he never responded on how he sees things…). So, it’s almost like we each have two faces. When we are together, it’s almost like a friendship rather than a courtship, yet when we are texting one another, it seems the focus is more on a relationship (at least from his standpoint). In person, we talk about stuff but not persona stuff. I don’t know how to explain it. And I don’t really know how to date. I never really did it before. I feel like a massive ball of confusion; a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma – or something like that. And I have friends and my parents telling me to take things slow, not jump into a rebound relationship and get hurt again. It’s not that I feel like I need to have a man in my life to make me complete or some bullshit like that. It’s more like, I know I want to be married, I know I want to be in a committed relationship, yet I can’t. Not now. I need to let myself heal from the @sshole who ruined everything. I have to hold back and let time and the good Lord heal my wounds before I am joined again in holy matrimony. But, I’m kind of an all-in person. So, I think my confusion stems from my inability to just jump in with both feet. I’m holding back. And my emotions are not to be trusted. As I was waiting for him to show up last night, I texted a friend that I wanted to run away. I was the one who asked him out! And, I seriously just wanted to run and hide and never come back out. At the behest of my friend, who has called herself my brain, I did not run. I stayed and it was a nice evening, er date. But, there is still a gaping hole where my heart used to be……     
     I think the only thing I have not even begun to get over is the baby aspect. So many friends have had babies in the recent future, it makes me want to scream and tear all my hair out. When I see a baby or young children, my mouth runs dry and my insides turn to sawdust. I have pushed the idea of my own children as far from my mind as I can, yet I find this insane dream seeping back in time and time again. I have stopped trying to make sense of it. And I try, with all my might, to not hate the women around me who have children or are about to have children. I know it is not their fault that I don’t have a baby, that I wasn’t able to get pregnant and now it might be too late (if someone leaves a message telling me I am still young, I will delete it with malicious intent!). Yes, I am “only” 30. Now. But, I am also recently unattached and incapable of developing a new attachment until a time unknown. And, even if I were able to re-attach myself it would take some time before we make the move to waltz down the isle. It would be nice to spend some time as a new Mr. and Mrs. before starting a family, so we are looking at like 5 years or more (my math has never been great, but I see it as 1 year of healing, 2 years of courting, 2 years married – or it could be 2 years of healing, 2 years dating, and 1 year married). I will be 35 before baby number one is born (and this is assuming the new svelte me is capable of procreating – we might end up adopting). I know I want more than one baby. So, if baby one is born at 35, then baby number two would be around 37 and baby number 3 (yes, ideally I would like 3-4 children, but as we can see, what I want and what I get don’t always equal the same thing) at 39. We are reaching into problematic years here. I know, I should stop thinking about this so much. I am trying. I have not yet obtained perfection.         
     I am staying busy. This weekend I plan to visit a college roommate in Philly for cinco de Mayo. And I have the house to clean, a yard sale to attend, and meals to plan. Staying busy keeps me from missing Flaco and missing our life together. It helps me to keep moving forward and not to slump back into things with him. Yes, there have been numerous moments of weakness, which at first I found helpful (odd as that may sound) but now I find distasteful. Especially given his dalliances with the ghetto whores. I am somewhat amazed at how resilient I am and how my refusal to break has caused me to latch onto only positive thoughts and not dwell in self-pity or depression. I have several mantras or positive affirmations, if you would like, that I tell myself when the icky thoughts seep in. I tell myself that I live a happy, healthy, harmonious life. I tell myself that something good is going to happen to me and that God will give me double blessings for my troubles. I listen to Kelly Clarkson’s song “Stronger” to remember how this didn’t break me (I repeat the line “You know, in the end the day you left was just my beginning”). I urge myself to enjoy my life NOW, not in the future when I have all that I think I want out of life. So, in essence I am handling it all quite well. In fact, I think I am handling this calamity better than I handled the whole infertility battle. Whoda thunk?