what's a year
According to the calendar I have now been divorced for over a year. This seems unreal to me, but there you go.
This time last year I was dealing with all that, plus having put everything I owned into storage, waiting on the co-op board for the place I thought I was going to be moving to, going from wi-fi to wi-fi to keep up with my job, driving up and down the southwest corridor for musical and social gatherings, and sleeping on a variety of mattresses. On top of that, I was about to turn 50.
As I've recounted, the Factory Reset took a lot longer than those couple of weeks, and there were several occasions when I was ready for the earth to swallow me whole. It didn't happen.
Somehow I got here. I have my own home, and I've actually started to refer to it that way. It's a small place, but everything in it is mine and nobody else's. From time to time I'll make a purchase for household necessities, like a toilet plunger or cooking utensil. I still don't have a microwave, but I've become more adept at reheating things on the stove without burning the food or the pan. I've also tried to cook more, and eat healthier. My air conditioning works (one service call) as does my plumbing (too many calls) and a guy comes by every two weeks or so to mow my lawn for $20 and a can of seltzer. I've had to yell at one of my neighbors a few times for being too loud, but I think I've put the fear of Wardo in her. She just knows me as the grumpy guy next door who doesn't smoke weed; she has no idea I was ever a timid child, timid teenager, or timid adult.
After about eight months without seeing my dog, I spoke with her mother about arranging a playdate, which was fine with her. She did ask that it be an ongoing thing, as Emily might be confused when -- to her mind -- I went away again. I could agree to that, and while I wasn't thrilled about having to go pick her up at her mother's house, and see how her mother was getting along without me, I was pleased that Emily was very happy to see me and go where I took her. But Emily does like her routines and comfort zones, and after she got tired of sniffing around my house and barking quietly out the windows, she did what she normally did whenever we took her to somebody's house, which was stand by a door with an "okay, we can go now" look on her face.
We've had two of these play dates so far, each lasting a few hours. Maybe one day she'll stay longer, but for now the pit in my stomach from missing my dog isn't so hollow. I suppose I could always get a cat in the meantime, but again, I'm happy with everything I purchase being consumed solely by me.
A year ago I didn't know where my life would be taking me. I'm amazed I made it this far without completely losing it. My counselor insists I'm doing well, and doesn't feel the need to see me as often, which saves me money.
Most of the happy horseshit I read in various books of affirmations and self-help and whatnot insist that "you won't be ready to love anyone else until you love yourself." First of all, not having somebody love you is a pretty big confidence deflater. How does one find strength from a position of zero?
Then there's the whole "accept your anger and bad feelings and discomfort, then let them go" bit. I've told those things to leave repeatedly, but they tend to stick around, like people who don't know when a party has ended. Just because I'm good at feeling rotten doesn't mean I want to do it. I'm also good at vacuuming, but I avoid that whenever I can.
But in all honesty, I am pretty comfortable with who I am. I know my strengths, and I'm aware of my weaknesses, so I know I what I can offer. I am the world's greatest buried treasure. It would be nice if somebody realized it and came looking for me. I'd also like her to be somewhat attractive while we're supposedly still young. Unfortunately, most of my cheerleaders -- no pun intended, but they are women -- are either married, dating assholes, married to assholes, or staunch lesbians.
Somehow I got here. I'm hoping I end up somewhere good. The last couple of years have been brutal. I'd like them to get better.
One last thing: often I have anxiety dreams where I haven't studied for a test, or I'm back in school, or I'm not fully dressed in public, or I'm trying to get somewhere and I have to walk but my legs won't co-operate. A few weeks back I had a dream where for some reason I was in a group of people who were tasked with doing several laps, like a few dozen, around a track. As I kept going, I could feel my legs getting stronger and the running getting easier. And while I was adjusting my ear buds (for whatever music I was going to listen to whilst running) I passed someone who was telling a group of people, "That's wardo, he's one of our best runners."
I have never had a dream that had such a positive connotation. I'll take it.
This time last year I was dealing with all that, plus having put everything I owned into storage, waiting on the co-op board for the place I thought I was going to be moving to, going from wi-fi to wi-fi to keep up with my job, driving up and down the southwest corridor for musical and social gatherings, and sleeping on a variety of mattresses. On top of that, I was about to turn 50.
As I've recounted, the Factory Reset took a lot longer than those couple of weeks, and there were several occasions when I was ready for the earth to swallow me whole. It didn't happen.
Somehow I got here. I have my own home, and I've actually started to refer to it that way. It's a small place, but everything in it is mine and nobody else's. From time to time I'll make a purchase for household necessities, like a toilet plunger or cooking utensil. I still don't have a microwave, but I've become more adept at reheating things on the stove without burning the food or the pan. I've also tried to cook more, and eat healthier. My air conditioning works (one service call) as does my plumbing (too many calls) and a guy comes by every two weeks or so to mow my lawn for $20 and a can of seltzer. I've had to yell at one of my neighbors a few times for being too loud, but I think I've put the fear of Wardo in her. She just knows me as the grumpy guy next door who doesn't smoke weed; she has no idea I was ever a timid child, timid teenager, or timid adult.
After about eight months without seeing my dog, I spoke with her mother about arranging a playdate, which was fine with her. She did ask that it be an ongoing thing, as Emily might be confused when -- to her mind -- I went away again. I could agree to that, and while I wasn't thrilled about having to go pick her up at her mother's house, and see how her mother was getting along without me, I was pleased that Emily was very happy to see me and go where I took her. But Emily does like her routines and comfort zones, and after she got tired of sniffing around my house and barking quietly out the windows, she did what she normally did whenever we took her to somebody's house, which was stand by a door with an "okay, we can go now" look on her face.
We've had two of these play dates so far, each lasting a few hours. Maybe one day she'll stay longer, but for now the pit in my stomach from missing my dog isn't so hollow. I suppose I could always get a cat in the meantime, but again, I'm happy with everything I purchase being consumed solely by me.
A year ago I didn't know where my life would be taking me. I'm amazed I made it this far without completely losing it. My counselor insists I'm doing well, and doesn't feel the need to see me as often, which saves me money.
Most of the happy horseshit I read in various books of affirmations and self-help and whatnot insist that "you won't be ready to love anyone else until you love yourself." First of all, not having somebody love you is a pretty big confidence deflater. How does one find strength from a position of zero?
Then there's the whole "accept your anger and bad feelings and discomfort, then let them go" bit. I've told those things to leave repeatedly, but they tend to stick around, like people who don't know when a party has ended. Just because I'm good at feeling rotten doesn't mean I want to do it. I'm also good at vacuuming, but I avoid that whenever I can.
But in all honesty, I am pretty comfortable with who I am. I know my strengths, and I'm aware of my weaknesses, so I know I what I can offer. I am the world's greatest buried treasure. It would be nice if somebody realized it and came looking for me. I'd also like her to be somewhat attractive while we're supposedly still young. Unfortunately, most of my cheerleaders -- no pun intended, but they are women -- are either married, dating assholes, married to assholes, or staunch lesbians.
Somehow I got here. I'm hoping I end up somewhere good. The last couple of years have been brutal. I'd like them to get better.
One last thing: often I have anxiety dreams where I haven't studied for a test, or I'm back in school, or I'm not fully dressed in public, or I'm trying to get somewhere and I have to walk but my legs won't co-operate. A few weeks back I had a dream where for some reason I was in a group of people who were tasked with doing several laps, like a few dozen, around a track. As I kept going, I could feel my legs getting stronger and the running getting easier. And while I was adjusting my ear buds (for whatever music I was going to listen to whilst running) I passed someone who was telling a group of people, "That's wardo, he's one of our best runners."
I have never had a dream that had such a positive connotation. I'll take it.