Posts Tagged 'support'

Please. Let me be sad.

I love my friends.  I really do.  I have great people around me that have been nothing but supportive.  Most of who read this blog so clearly any and all barking will not be done here…after today.


I am really having a hard time with them.  Nobody will let me just be sad.  I’m fucking sad ok?  Just let me be sad!  Let me morn.  Let me miss him.  Let me cry.

I get it.  He’s a pig.  Yeah yeah.  But the more everyone sits around and tells me he’s a dirt bag, the worse I feel.  It isn’t helping.  In fact, it feels like judgment.  It feels like everyone ganging up against me.  Like I’m no longer allowed to have my own thoughts or feel my own feelings.  Like everyone around me is so afraid that I’m not going to do what it is that they want me to do that they forget that I’m a person that just lost her husband.  Let me be a wreck.  Let me say I miss him!!

Someone recently told me that 97% of my relationship was a nightmare and that I should just move on.  Wow.  Do they really think that I stuck around for 3%?  I mean common.  That’s just insulting.  Do I come off as that weak?  I can’t even imagine what that would look like.  Can you?  3%?  That would mean about 5 hours a year  with Mark were OK.  WTF?   I’d really like to think I’m stronger than that thank you.

It wasn’t until 2.5 years ago that things started to go sour with Mark and I.  Up until then, our 7.5 years together had been almost perfect.  We never fought.  We had fantastic sex like rabbits.  Mark loved every inch of me – and I him.  It was as if there was nobody else on this planet that could make me that happy.  We were even kicked out of the preliminary marriage counseling because we were told in the first session that it was “unnecessary” for us.  Mark and I were fantastic.  We had excellent communication with each other.

So what went wrong?  Well that’s a loaded question.  A few things:  First, our pride and joy, Daisy was killed and it seemed as though our world ripped apart.  We had failure after failure at pregnancy.  Then, we moved to San Francisco – a decision that I think was probably at the top of our stupid list.  Several big changes, and a lot of bad decisions.  All in all, life happened.

We used to be a disgustingly adorable couple.  We made people jealous of us.  Mark isn’t evil and I refuse to believe that he is now. There is a huge difference between evil and illness. He is sick and unwilling to get better.   I understand that.  I accept it.  But Jesus Christ I don’t have to like it.

Let me be sad.  I need to be.  I need to morn and cry.  For god sake let me cry.  I need to do this.  I need to remember why it is that I married him.  Not because I am looking for a reason to get back together with him.  I’m not that weak.  But the more everyone tells me he’s horrible the more they are judging me.  My choices.  My decisions.  My life.

It’s not what I need.  It’s not what I want.  I want to cry.  I need to cry.  And I don’t need to be told what to do.  I think I’ve proven already that I make decent choices.  Stop making it seem as though I’m incapable of doing so.


Can we talk about something else now?

Hey is anyone else as sick of hearing me bitch as I am?  Waa my husband left.  Bla bla he lied, bla bla he took money blech.  I’m sorry but there is only so much pitty I can take on myself before it starts to sound like one of those long ass parties that everyone wont leave from, but you are sick of and want to just go to bed.  I know there is still much more to come of this craptasticle situation, but for now, let’s move on shall we?  We’ll come back to it I assure you.

Want to hear something funny?  Well, its funny to me.  In fact it gets me gigglin just thinkin about it right now.

For the past couple of months I have been hangin out with a new crew.  A group of girls that get together every Monday night to have a “ladies night” away from their husbands, kids and problems.  One might call it a mommy group of sorts – being as everyone has children (with one obvious exception).  These ladies are all so fantastic.  I have really enjoyed all the time I’ve spent with them and can’t believe what great people they all are – even though we do spend a large amount of time talking about diapers, breast feeding, the funny things children ingest, etc.

Why is this funny?  O man.  It absolutely cracks me up.  I love spending time with them and look forward to my Monday nights with the girls.  And yes I’m the stand out infertile baron one.  But it doesn’t matter?  They don’t care.  And for some strange reason, I don’t care either.  As we all know I’m complicated, but a mommy group?  I may love my Monday night baby chats, but fuck if you’ll ever see me at a baby shower.  How is this possible?  OK I’ll let everyone judge me for a second now.  OK time is up.  Its ok.  I’m still gigglin.

So for the last couple of weeks I have made sure to keep my Monday night appointment with fun even in the midst of fuckdom.  And I cannot say it enough.  These ladies have totally been supportive.  In between the discussions of preschool and singing lessons, each one has managed to say to me, “we got your back”.  And ya know what?  I really think they do.  It just feels so nice to have friends.  A posse of sorts.  I shall call them my Uterine Crew.

I suck at hiding I think.

OK I kinda had to come out of the cave.  It got really smelly in there.  I’m blaming the unruly bat that kept farting all night.  Stupid bat.

I don’t even know quite how to say thank you to everyone for all the comments.  Its unbelievably amazing to me that the world is full of complete strangers that know exactly what to say when you need them.  My friends aren’t even that good to me.  Nothing can make a girl feel better than being popular right?  Dude.  You made me feel like I was the most popular cheerleader in school.  I almost got the courage to call that skinny bitch on MUNI out and tell her she’s fat and ugly and nobody wants to hear her phone conversation.  But I didn’t because I remembered that I am only virtually cool (for one post only) and lost my confidence.  She could still send me back into the cave with one look up and down let’s be real.

And just because there’s simply nothing funnier than dogs wearing clothes, I give you – Sandy in my sweatshirt:

And if it bothers you that I have tortured such an innocent little animal with horrible embarrassment, watch it again.  See?  That’s funny shit.

I’ll update later on the holy christnuckels shitstorm of my life….

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