Baby, It’s Cold Outside

Actually, it is cold everywhere. And by everywhere, I specifically mean inside my house. It is freaking freezing in here! I have no furnace. Well, that is not exactly true. I have a very old and decrepit furnace that currently has no oil in it, because for one thing I can’t really afford any and also, the furnace is so busted it is almost not worth it anyway. I live in a very old farmhouse, which I really do love, but which is not anywhere close to airtight. Old windows, old doors, old walls with sparse insulation. I am currently making do with space heaters, so at least there is a small radius of warmth, if I sit right in front of one. There’s one in the living room, one in the bathroom and one in each bedroom. If you aren’t in front of one, it’s somewhere in the 40’s. That’s INSIDE the house, keep in mind. Outside, it’s maybe in the low 20’s, but the wind chill is fierce.

I am thinking about letting my son sleep with me again, even though it took forever for him to go back to sleeping in his own room after last winter. He’s hot natured anyway, plus he’s got that whole kid specific natural body heat. He’s like my own personal heat source!

My hands and feet are so cold that I am considering getting back into bed for awhile, just to get warmed up. Or I might go stand in the shower with the hot water on full blast for a while. The bad part is that you eventually have to get out, and then it’s cold all over again.

I shouldn’t have to wear gloves and a hat inside my own house!

Ok, I’m done moaning for now. But really universe, if you are listening, it is time for a job to come through and a move to be in my future. It is time!

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New Year’s Eve

One constant with being a parent, a sick child trumps everything. And so I find myself curled up in bed with my laptop, while my son tosses and turns restlessly beside me. Poor little man. I hate it when he’s sick, but at least I can bring him into my room and hold his hand while he sleeps. I still have this almost compulsive need to make certain he’s breathing. I don’t imagine that ever really goes away, more that you just learn to keep the urge under control.

Today has been a very emotional day for me. I’ve had the urge to have a good cry for most of the day. I think it has a lot to do with the time of year and the whole cycle of endings and beginnings, contrived though it may be. The last several years have been simultaneously some of the best and worst of my life. Most of the best has to do with my son, and the rest is pretty much just time I’m glad is in the past.

I’ve never been one for resolutions. As a matter of fact, I don’t think I’ve ever made an official New Year’s resolution. I do have some thoughts for this coming year. None I’m ready to share, as I haven’t actually gotten them worked out, but there are definitely some ideas swirling around.

I am profoundly thankful that my mom is now a five-year survivor of breast cancer. She’s off her medicines and has been basically released by her oncologist, other than a yearly check-up. I can’t adequately express how relieved I am to still have her in my life. Her diagnosis was without a doubt one of the scariest things I’ve even experienced, that we as a family have ever experienced.

As for my stated desire to not think about him anymore, it’s going reasonably well. It still crops up now and then, but in a way that is less specific to him and more in a “circumstances of my life” sort of way. There are definitely still some things to explore, but more in terms of finally figuring out what I’d like out of my life and taking the necessary steps to achieve it. Which plays a bit into the idea of resolutions and so on. Anyway, I guess I’ve just finally come to the conclusion that he’s kind of a shit. And that’s ok, some people are. Thankfully, he and his issues are no longer my problem. I have quite enough of my own issues to keep me busy, thank you very much!

My son is stirring, so it won’t be long until he wakes up needing comfort and medicine. In the meantime, I and Neil Gaiman will leave you with best wishes for a happy 2012.

 

Endings And Beginnings

I suppose a small (huge?) confession is in order. I have been in regular contact with his wife. You might remember that she’d written me in early November, after she found this blog and became concerned about my emotional state. And, for whatever reasons, we’ve been writing each other ever since. Up until today, actually. The ending was my doing. I am ready to not think about him anymore, a hard enough thing to do on my own. And I can’t not think about him while being friendly with his wife. Which is unfortunate because we seem to actually like each other, but ultimately it is realistic. We said our goodbyes and we wished each other well. It’s all good.

She talked to me because, as she put it, she gained comfort from doing so since I was the only person who knew what had happened, and because she felt lonely with her pain. I can understand that. I don’t exactly know why I talked to her for so long. I’ve given it some thought, as part of coming to my decision to stop. I like her, as I said, and there’s even a possibility that, had we met under different circumstances, we could have become friends. But that is just an interesting side note, not something that explains why I chose to talk to her.

I don’t know if it matters why, truly. I did want to know if they were able to work things out, and they are currently managing to do so. All the good and decent parts of me are very relieved and happy to know that. I do sometimes wonder if the not-so-nice devil on my shoulder wanted to know that they were back together in order to have extra ammunition to use against me in my ongoing battle with depression and self-esteem. The nasty voices in my head really do enjoy having their way with that sort of thing, pointing out couples who seem to have love and delighting in reminding me that I do not currently have the type of love that I would like to have.

My general tendency is to put other people’s needs ahead of my own, and I felt quite a bit of angst and concern at telling her I needed to move on. I normally just write emails and send them, but I must have rewritten that one five times before I felt it was acceptable to send to her. Now that I have done so, and we have said our goodbyes, I feel a rather strange combination of sad and relieved. I am ready to start trying to move forward, I think. My first appointment with my new therapist is coming up this week, and obviously this whole fiasco will play a large role in what we talk about, at least for a while. But I want to look forward, and I want to think about him less and less every day, until he is a distant memory.

I’ve had quite a time keeping my thoughts focused lately, and I have pretty much lost the thread of where I was going with all this. So I’ll stop writing for now. I don’t like this, not at all. I don’t know what it is indicative of, something worth exploring or maybe just a cumulative lack of sleep? Ugh. I hate not being in control of my own mind.

The Wait Continues

Today, I found out that there won’t be a decision on the job I want until January. Keep in mind that this is a job that I originally applied for in either late September or early October. I’ve honestly forgotten at this point, it’s taking so freaking long. I won’t go into my whole sorry financial life, as I know many people are struggling lately, but suffice it to say that I’m down to the very end of my rope, clinging on by my fingernails and straight up stubbornness. I need this job, that’s really all there is to it. And I feel as though my life is on hold while I am waiting. It is very frustrating. Which is not to say that I haven’t been looking at other options. I have. I’ve applied for so many jobs that I’ve lost count. But so far, nothing. I need this job. It is the best one, it offers the most opportunities, it pays the most money. Come on, universe. Please?

I did discover that there is free counseling available if you are willing to see a masters intern. So I am going to try it out, because you never know. I just want to make sure I am doing everything within my power to keep my head straight over the winter. I can’t afford to lose my grip, and as I’ve mentioned before, winter is a cold and icy bitch that storms into my life once every year and tries to steal my soul. It is hard to deal with winter in a good year, let alone one like this one, full of financial and relationship woes, and general life upheavals. I have an appointment for next week, so we’ll see what happens. I will say that just the simple act of writing, whether it is here on this blog or in my journals, has really helped me lately, but I think I need more. Hopefully this can be my more.

My main concern, emotionally, is that I can feel myself slipping into a numbness, into the lethargy and apathy of depression. I’m actually considering going back on my pills, just for a bit, even though they’ve never been my favorite thing. That is a gross understatement, actually. They smooth out the jagged edges, sure, but they also obliterate the necessary sharpness . . . of wit, of mind, of creativity. I don’t know. I also tend to feel that I shouldn’t need additional assistance, that medicating myself is admitting weakness, or some such bullshit. My typical pattern is to wait until I am literally unable to get out of bed or off the floor and then to seek out help, or have help foisted upon me. But this time is different, because I have a son, who needs me. So I am trying to be proactive. Everything I am doing, I am doing for him.

Things To Do Today

Finish washing clothes, pack a bag for tonight, get to the post office to pick up my new Kindle, make sure my son has everything he needs for while I’ll be gone, kiss and hug him, kiss and hug him some more, drive to my cousin’s, commence girl time.

Seems simple enough, really. But I seem to be having an anxiety attack instead. I’m cold inside.

Help me, define the light that’s shining on me
to get back what they’ve taken from me
and build a little fire where it’s cold

Show me, the path that leads to all the glory
the words that tell a sacred story
and build a little fire where its cold

I wanna live in a dream in my record machine
I want a piece of the world and every one inside my mouth
cuz all the money I waste, is it a manner of taste
I want a piece of the world and you can’t make me spit it out

Partial lyrics from I Wanna Live In a Dream In My (Record Machine)