Category Archives: Taking Charge

1-Week Countdown

My surgery is in one week. Since being diagnosed, I’ve come a long way mentally. It was a rollercoaster at first. There have been a lot of “hurry up and wait” moments. Last night was my final screening test before my surgery, a CT scan. Just what I wanted to do on a freezing Friday night in January – hang out in the ground floor level (aka basement) Radiology waiting room to drink crap for more body imaging. Luckily, they called me in early, so I didn’t have to wait as long as I thought. On my way home, I gripped the wheel the whole way while driving in cold, windy freezing rain. I told myself this is winter; this is how it is. This is just how it is.

I now have a week to get as much done as possible before surgery. This includes everything with work, home, kids, and informing people that are taking care of me about certain things. Certain things like… hey, here’s a schedule for each kid before, during, and after school… and hey, here’s an envelope to open only if I don’t wake up from my anesthesia.

I don’t have a will. I realize I should have one, but I wasn’t prepared for this. I threw together a quick 2-page document that outlines a few things and wishes, and I intend to revise it, but I don’t have a lawyer to make a significant plan right now. I don’t even have time for surgery. Good thing God is in charge, because I don’t have time for any of this!

I’m still not sure how I’ll stop being my usual active, busy self, but I suppose the music will stop and I’ll just have to stop as well. The last few weekends have been nonstop. This morning I was running around with my kids for about 4 hours. My daughter needed new running shoes and a haircut, and then my son had a soccer game. It’s all basic Saturday errands, but I won’t be able to drive for a few weeks after my surgery, and it’s really bothering me. I understand I won’t even feel well to drive, but I’m just so used to being physically independent to do whatever I want.

I have a mental checklist of all the things I want to do before I’m forced into restriction mode. I have to make sure my bathroom is clean, my floors are vacuumed, my sheets are changed, my laundry is all clean, etc. I’m also making a grocery list. I intend to make a run to Costco next weekend, so we’re stocked up on school snacks and toiletries, etc. I have an oil change scheduled for my car mid-week. I want to get a couple of books. It’s all basic stuff, many things that I do regularly anyhow, but I have the extra stress of knowing I won’t be able to freely do these things for about a month after my surgery.

Well, here we go, it’s a 1-week countdown to getting a mastectomy and reconstruction. Let’s hope I tackle everything and then some, so I can get the healing process started. This hard, but my mindset is in a good place right now. It helps that I have a wonderful family and friends checking on me. My prayers are more focused on “God, take these worries and anxieties away” more than anything else. Well, other than “God, please protect my kids throughout their day”.

Lately it feels like, if I can just subside the fear of what’s to come, I can get to it and through it.

Stifle Me Not

Circling Back to Where I Started

I grew up in The Catholic Church. I went to public school, but my dad made sure my butt was in a pew every Sunday, and I was not allowed to miss CCD. I was baptized as a baby, received my First Reconciliation and Communion in the 2nd grade, and in the 8th grade I made my Confirmation. Even though I didn’t go to Catholic school, I learned to fear nuns during my First Communion. Sister Mary Adolph seemed to be missing a part of her name.

My parents divorced right before my Confirmation, so I wasn’t all that into it. I was mostly a self-absorbed, but polite, teenager. I kept to myself, had my small friend group, and mostly stayed out of trouble. My dad ensured we went to church when we were with him. My mom did not. She would waiver. It depended on who she was dating at the time. Overall, I made it out of high school without making any negative life-altering choices. To this day, I credit my father with being a great male role model, even though I hated being dragged to church. I took it as an opportunity to check out boys as they walked up to communion. Why not?

I moved in with my dad my senior year of high school. I couldn’t handle my mom’s irrational decision-making (see: her new husband’s ridiculous rules, like telling me I had a bedtime at 17 years old). No thank you. I chose my own rational biological father’s strict religious household over my step dad’s ego-driven rule book from hell. My senior year was fun, peaceful, and I didn’t do anything stupid. I left for college, looking forward to an even brighter future.

When I got to college, my roommate all but declared she was an atheist. I think she didn’t say the word out loud out of respect for me. I found a Catholic church to attend right off campus and I went a few times during my freshman year. I’m not sure that I went anymore after that. I was too caught up in myself and school and friends and parties. I always believed in God, but church was reserved for when I went home during the holidays.

I met my ex-husband my senior year of college, and he was confirmed in the Catholic church. However, we didn’t go to church unless he came home with me for the holidays. When he proposed, it was a no-brainer that we’d get married in the Catholic church. Once we bought a house, we became members at the nearby Catholic church. We did our Pre-Cana classes there with a priest who could never remember my first name. Finally, we got married at my childhood church. It was an elaborate Catholic mass followed by one drunken reception.

My ex-husband wanted nothing to do with church if it wasn’t a major holiday or a wedding. Sometimes I could get him to go to mass with me on a Sunday here or there, but not often. I mostly gave up on dragging us to church, especially once the kids were born. I had them baptized when the time came. My daughter went to Catholic grade school, and she even got her First Communion. After getting divorced, I just checked out. I wanted nothing more to do with church. I didn’t have the energy to keep my son quiet at church, and my daughter was just “over” being forced to do anymore church after attending Catholic grade school. I chose to do nothing.

In 2018, my kids and I moved in with my religious dad and stepmom and we almost never went to church with them. We lived there for 1 1/2 years and maybe went to church only a handful of times. To me, it wasn’t a good use of time. It felt like I was going to an old people’s club. I had turned my attention to astrology and online tarot readings in the couple of years leading up to that. It was interesting, gave me comfort, didn’t feel so hard, and I “wasn’t sure if it was real anyway”. I had heard that these things weren’t “approved” of by Christianity, but I never opened the Bible or took any steps to lift my ignorance. Ignorance was bliss. I wanted to be left alone.

Fast forward to my past year of Adventures in Online Dating, and I’m brought back to religion. On almost every dating profile, there’s a line item for religion. You can state your religious preference and usually you can filter by it. I’ve selected everything from Christian to Catholic to Spiritual as my label and/or filter. I’ve become more and more aware of how many people identify as Atheist or Agnostic. And I’ve become more aware of how many men state they are Christian, but when it comes to their daily life, they might as well be living in the pits of hell.

When you tighten up the filters on a dating site, you are left with very few if anyone to choose from. It’s made me realize that I’m really missing something in my life: an actual relationship with God and like-minded people. All I’ve ever known is being forced to go to church, not why it was important. Now that I’m trying NOT to mess up the second half of my life, I’m discovering all of these God-less men. I don’t want that again. Been there, done that.

A few weeks ago, I went back to church. I enrolled my kids in Bible study (they aren’t happy, but they’ll thank me later). I also deleted any astrology or tarot card related links, apps, or YouTube subscriptions I had. And I suddenly have an urge to understand Bible readings.

In the midst of all this, I started chatting with a guy who seemed to check off all of the ideal dating boxes… except he doesn’t have church in his life at all. I always ask a new guy if they believe in God. His answer was “absolutely!” and he left it at that. It’s literally the only thing “wrong” with him (well, that and he seems to have a slight obsession with county fairs). If you know me, I don’t do country fairs, ever. We’ve been texting for a few days now, and he left me hangin’ last night. No more responses after we had a short discussion about what was for dinner. It’s been almost 24 hours. I have a clue that this one is over before it started, like many others. He never asked to talk on the phone and never officially asked me on a date. After the exciting “get to know you” phase fizzled out, we didn’t really click. Text messages felt forced. And he already told me he’d be going to a county fair tractor pull this weekend.

I’m sincerely not broken up about this one. He was a pretty positive individual, so that’s rare these days, but I was already trying to figure out my escape route. I had a feeling that Last Call guy wasn’t going to stick. I think he was my Last Wake Up Call to prioritize my dating standards further. Geez, and I thought I couldn’t get any pickier, but here I am: God first, Godless men get to the back of the line.

I usually have all kinds of anxiety when I decide to make a life change like this, but I feel nothing but calm. Calm and confident actually. I guess I’m circling back to where I started.

Stifle Me Not

Stop the Insanity, Jesus Take the Wheel

According to Merriam-Webster’s online dictionary, there are three basic definitions of insanity:

1 dated : a severely disordered state of the mind usually occurring as a specific disorder

2 law : unsoundness of mind or lack of the ability to understand that prevents one from having the mental capacity required by law to enter into a particular relationship, status, or transaction or that releases one from criminal or civil responsibility

3 a: extreme folly or unreasonableness
the insanity of violence
His comments were pure insanity.

3 b: something utterly foolish or unreasonable
the insanities of modern life

I decided that 3b applies to me. This year, definition 3b must be me. And if it isn’t 3b, then it’s overridden by definition 1 or 2.

When you’re a decent woman, with children and a valuable lifestyle to protect, continuing to date after a few bad dates seems… a bit insane. After reflecting on my past two years of dating, I’ve come to this conclusion: It’s not good. It’s very very bad. If I’m not insane, then I’m quite unlucky. And it’s time to question my role in all of this.

2022 dating:

  • In July, I had four lovely dates with the The Noble Nomad who worked a great job, traveled between two states to be a great father to his son, he didn’t drink or curse or speak ill of anyone, he was intelligent with a growth mindset, and he loved sunsets. He also wanted to “get romantic” with me and still “get to know” other people he was meeting through his dating app… in whichever city he happened to live in each week.
  • In June, I went on two dates with the The Guarded Hat Man, who basically got to know me just enough be life long texting buddies, tell me about the love of his life that he’s never gotten over in 20 years, and wouldn’t disclose the status of his hairline under his ball cap.
  • In May, I had the memorable one date with The Drunk Vampire, in which he bit me and left me stranded at a winery in the middle of Amish Country (albeit my wise choice to be left behind).

Each of these scenarios could be seen as a standalone isolated instances, but I get the clue — I’m clearly not attracting the most stellar gentlemen. If I’d only been dating a year, I’d give myself a break… but then I remembered my track record the previous year.

2021 dating:

  • Winter 2021, there was Lazy Pothead Stinky Cologne Guy. He had a decent job, similar views, was nice and calm – but he routinely got high on his couch with his dog during non-work hours and wore really really bad cologne.
  • In Fall 2021, there was the Personal Trainer Gone Mad Man. He was a big deal once upon a time, and at first he beamed with his residual confidence from days past. However, unbeknownst to me, he recently acquired some health issues, which led him to snap in emotional outbursts. And sadly, he thought he was entitled to do so, with no accountability for his behavior.
  • Spring/Summer 2021, there was Millionaire Buy-My-Love Man – he was made of money and wanted me to take care of him in exchange for all he could buy me – dinners, gifts, vacations, etc. Doesn’t sound bad does it? It doesn’t until you add in his loud talking voice, him constantly repeating himself, his frequent gambling addiction, his lack of physical activity (which contributed to limping and overabundance of snoring). This was all wrapped up in a nice bow of his constant mood swings.

It’s hard enough to go down Post-Dating Energy-Reset Lane once, twice, three times… but this has been ridiculous. My family and friends love to hear my stories. They think each date “fail” is so hilarious. And they all say the same thing: “I’m so glad I’m not dating these days.”

After the sixth bad egg (for me) in two years, I decided I have to do something differently.

I can turn off my dating apps and hide in my house? Nope, I’ve done that. I can try a different dating app? Nope, have done that and each app seems to have the same characters trolling around. I can go to the bar? Nope, I barely drink anymore and I have two kids. That one doesn’t work anymore. I can look for hot daddies at the grocery store? Um, no. I can get set up with someone from one of my friends? Nope, no one seems to have anyone that they can (or want to) set me up with.

I did the only thing I could think of that I haven’t done in awhile: I went to church.

I go every so often, but not enough to be considered “religious”. I grew up going to church regularly, but strayed after moving away once I graduated. I had both of my kids baptized, but I don’t routinely make them go to church.

I decided it’s time for a change. I needed to feed my soul with something different altogether and see if it helps me help myself. Never mind attracting a man. I can do that part, I’m just not attracting the right kind. Apparently, I’m bad at this. Very very bad at this. God is going to have work his divine intervention to redirect me.

Jesus, take the dating wheel, I’m done.

Stifle Me Not

Not Ghosted, Just a Classic Case of Gaslighting

Remember how I figured I was ghosted by the most recent guy I’d started dating? And I accepted and it moved on? Welp, I guess it was not the end…

Apparently, I was being given the silent treatment. For 2 1/2 days to be exact. My last form of communication with the guy was on a Thursday morning. I figured by Friday evening, with no response from him, that we were pretty much over. Because who does that? He was an insta-texter, so I knew a long period of silence meant he was either sleeping, or not happy about something. He often texted me all day long while he was working, so he didn’t let daily business stop him. And why didn’t we talk on the phone? Well because the few times I asked him to, he didn’t feel like talking. Yes, a red flag, but I’m an idiot sometimes. So we mostly texted and made plans to see each other on the weekends.

My brain already started to decompress by Friday night. I even hopped back on my paused dating site profile. After all, it had only been about 3 weeks of “dating”. We hadn’t had the commitment conversation, didn’t make it that far. I wasn’t feeling bad because I already did that for two whole days — I am done with confusing relationships. If I’m confused, even after attempting clarification, then there’s something not working. Boy was I right.

So I went to bed on Thursday and Friday nights feeling sad, just because I don’t like the dating world in general and thought maybe I’d found a nice one. But I was also relieved because I felt like a dodged a bad boyfriend bullet way sooner than later. So I did a little sulking and by Saturday morning I was in acceptance mode. I did some yoga and had some nice quiet time by myself until it was time to go pick up my kids from their dad.

On the way home Saturday evening, I heard a text notification on my phone. I didn’t check it right away because I was driving. When I got to a red light, I glanced at my phone. It was him.

He texted, “So…how was your week?”

How was my week? Well well well, we have a man here who wants to interact but not confront the actual situation. I believe when someone is trying to get a big reaction out of you and causes you to question your own reality, that’s called gaslighting. I decided this was an unacceptable response after 2 1/2 days of silence. He was trying to get a reaction out of me, and I didn’t have one to give because I no longer cared. I didn’t respond, spent a nice evening with my kids, drank some wine, and went to bed. Silent treatment right back at ya buddy. (I never do the silent treatment by the way, I think it’s awful and you owe someone direct communication, but I knew this was no longer a viable relationship).

On Sunday morning, I made a big breakfast, took a long shower, took the kids shopping a little bit, and then we came home and chilled out. I took a nice mid-afternoon nap on my couch. It was glorious. I woke up from my great nap and glanced at my phone. Oh for crying out loud, he sent a long rambling defensive text. Come on dude!

I was equal parts annoyed and happy. Annoyed, because I’ve seen this behavior before (aka ex husband behavior) and it is exhausting. But happy, because I didn’t do anything wrong, it was doomed from the start. It wouldn’t have mattered how much I tiptoed around this guy with my replies, he was going to find a way to be pissed about something. He needs endless ego-stroking, and his ego will forever act like he is the victim and blame someone else for what he is feeling. He even stated at one point “People think I’m a dick, but I’m really just confident.” No, no no.

I took a deep breath and (against my better judgement) responded to his long rambling text with my own lengthy text (for my own closure) that was full of my very constructive observations on what happened with our miscommunication and then bid him farewell told him good luck. I got an instant response from him telling me I made so many assumptions and that I only cared about my own feelings. I responded one last time “Then we’re not compatible, move on.” …. and he kept responding and I had to block him.

I shed a few tears out of pure frustration. And then instantly felt better and made dinner for my kids.

Dating is stupid. I don’t recommend it.

Stifle Me Not

Moving Forward… Stalled

Argh. I’m trying to initiate some life changes and it’s not working. Try, try again.

Before I talk about that, let me first stay that my Crush Attack from my previous post has been my own personal roller coaster ride that has gone something like this:

He’s cute. I wonder if he likes me. I bet he thinks I’m cute. He’s never been married. He doesn’t have kids. He must be immature. He sucks. I’m stupid for even thinking about him like that. We work together. He called me today and sounded cute. Maybe we’ll live together some day. How stupid is that? I wonder if he’s selfish? Maybe he’s actually a nice guy? I wonder if his family is nice. This is never gonna work.

Am I 15 again or what?

Jeezuz, make the thoughts just stop. This has been going on for a month now and I haven’t seen him since the company Christmas party. How stupid.

Anyhow, onto other life developments… I put an offer on a house today. There was another offer. I lost. I countered. I lost that one too.

Frustration at its finest.

This house was great. It was move-in ready. I am move-in ready. We’d go great together.

My real estate agent sucks. I know this. I went to see 4 houses with him today and I wanted to ditch him at each one. He is not the proactive variety and he moves at the pace of a snail. The offer process on this house went something like this:

Initial Offer

Him: The original offer was a “strong” offer. Let’s offer $XX, which amounted to $100 over asking.

Me: No, let’s offer at least $1,000 to $2,000 over asking.

Him (after submitting offer): They took the other offer.

Me thinking: No shit.

Counter Offer

Me: I’ll go up $4,000 plus pay half of the closing costs.

Him: Okay

Him (after submitting offer): It’s not high enough. Do you want to go up by $5K more?

Me: NO!

_______________

Then he came back and wanted to know if I wanted to put an offer on a previous house that I looked at earlier in the day. I told him to get me the one I wanted.

No, he’s not getting guaranteed commission today by defaulting me to second best. He failed. I need a new realtor. I’ve had him since September and not once has he proactively sent me any properties. He’ll send me properties after I’ve sent him some that I like. Then he’ll say “what about this one too?”

Bare minimum effort. I’m done with that.

If something falls through with this house that I put an offer on, I’ll have to use him if I want it.

Otherwise, I need to think through my next move. The current state of my real estate situation is not working. I am not doing this.

Stifle Me Not

Falling Forward

And just like the wheel is turning forward again. More baby steps into the great unknown…

I gave myself until November 1st to have a down payment ready for a house. After saving my butt off for the past two months, and venting to my sister that I can’t wait for time to speed up one night, she graciously offered me a “gift” of the rest of my down payment (and that I can pay her back as it makes sense).

Uh, what? Just like that my little sis is ready to write me a check. I would have never asked her for money like that ever. She’s the little sister. I’m the big sister. I hinted at it to my mom, and to my dad, but they didn’t bite…but I was simply whining to her, not asking for a hand out.

I took it, with full intention of continuing to save my butt off so that I can pay her back sooner than later. And just like that I was pre-approved this weekend to buy my own adult house.

The house hunting has yet to begin. That likely starts this weekend. I’m full of all kinds of emotions – excited for sure, a little scared (I’ve never owned a home on my own), and just a tiny bit anxious about the market and the pressure and the stress. I’m in a good place with my stress level in life. I want this to be good stress. I don’t want to settle. I want to make a good decision for me and my kids. I’ve been “homeless” (okay, a 40-year old living with her parents) for the past 1 year and 1 month. The time has come.

I’ve come so far. I can’t give up now. “Life’s a journey, not a destination”… yea yea, I know, but getting a nice cozy comfortable home where I can be me (and my kids can be them) is somewhat of a destination for me. It’s a destination of a new beginning. It’ll be proof to myself that I broke the cycle of bad decisions (or lack thereof) and that I’ll be living for myself, finally.

It’s the first day of fall, and I’m falling forward… It’s my own movement that will take me to where I need to be.

Stifle Me Not

The In Between of What Has Been and What Could Be

I’ve been feeling sorry for myself lately. I’m not sure why exactly. I can only describe it as missing where I no longer am even though I didn’t like where I was back then, and wishing I was somewhere else.

How stupid is that?

So freakin’ stupid.

I’m simultaneously living in the past and wishing my life away.

It’s like I miss my old life and am excited for a new one all at the same time. And I can’t make the new life come any faster without disrupting the present, and memories of my past just keep flooding back and I have to fight off the urge to sink back into the abyss of what no longer serves me. I keep having to remind myself that I’ve been rebuilding myself from my own personal ground zero for almost 2 years now. I don’t think anyone without super powers loses their own personal everything and just gets right back up again.

I’m (im)patiently trying to save for a house. I have a plan, I’m saving according to my budget. And, I’m bored. I’m so freakin’ BORED!

You’d think boredom would be the least of my worries as a single divorced working mom of two. But the restlessness of what has been and what could be are colliding into a cloud of dust, making it hard to see through what I already know. Even if what I know is that the unknown has more potential to be better than anything I’ve ever known before.

I’ve cut myself off from shopping sprees and filling the grocery cart with whatever goodies I want. Or going out with friends whenever I want (well, I don’t have many friends, so who cares). I’m on a strict budget for the next 8 1/2 weeks. I have a countdown app on my phone. Goal: I’m going to be ready to be pre-approved for my own big girl house by November 1st.

If I can’t save a shit-ton of money in the next 8 1/2 weeks, then I have learned nothing in the past 2 years. I have been forced to live on a minuscule budget on unemployment for months at a time.. I know how shop for the bare minimum and make ends meet with gas and groceries. I know how to forego the extras on my debit card. I know how to be bored and entertain myself with a WIFI connection or even just a pen and paper. I feel like I’ve been training for this speed budget plan all my life and I can’t give up now.

Why now? Why not a few months ago? Well, a few months ago, I finally got a job. I finally got to buy myself some basic clothes that fit me. I finally got to spoil my kids a little bit. I finally got to taste the fruits of my hard labor from switching careers. Now, it’s now or never. I can live with my parents for months and months more and save slowly, or I can speed save and get the f*&k out.

We’re all sick of each other. No one is saying it. No one is at each other’s throats. You can just feel that it’s time. My kids know it’s time. If I can get pre-approved by Nov 1, I could be moved into my own little piece of heaven by Christmas. A girl can dream.

Stifle Me Not

 

 

 

Gifts Coming Full Circle

This week I talked to a mortgage broker and we made a plan for when it realistically makes sense for me to get pre-approved to buy a home. I could do it now, but I have a few more things to clean up before I go that route. The daily life of living at my parents’ house has not been unbearable. I have the patience and the will power to hold out a bit longer. I have a feeling the payoff will be rewarding. That feeling usually serves me well.

In the meantime, I refinanced my car this week. I asked the mortgage broker to refer me to someone that does car loans. He referred me to a friend of his at a local bank to refinance my car at a good rate. I had to get my ex’s name off of my car loan. When I scheduled the meeting to go sign the closing paperwork, I found out that my first payment isn’t until mid-November (more money to save for a house!) and I got a YETI cooler as a gift. I had no idea about these perks, but it was a welcome surprise.

Now, I’m not here being paid to endorse YETI, but as an owner of this brand’s coffee cup, I will say that I am a fan. I love keeping my hot drinks hot and my cold drinks cold. This brand figured it out and makes quality products in my opinion.

But this situation with the YETI cooler is a bit ironic.

Let me explain.

After being together for 18 years, and married for 11, I found myself becoming increasingly stressed when it came to birthdays, Father’s day, and Christmas gifts for my ex. I have a problem with giving, and over-giving. I give too much of myself and never expect  anything in return. Even if I do expect it, I don’t express my disappointment if I don’t get it. I make excuses for others and go about my business secretly unhappy. My ex knew that. I just figured it out in the last few years. Smart manipulating guy. Naive me (I was too busy thinking of others)… but not anymore.

So one of the last time’s I was stressing about getting him a gift (I think it was his birthday in 2017), I considered getting him the exact YETI cooler (that I just received as a gift for my car loan). Giving big nice gifts had become my thing. I felt like every year I was trying to outdo the last gift that I gave. But each time I would surprise myself and think of something even grander that he would love. And he did, he loved all of it. Well that year I looked into buying him a YETI cooler, and I was about to buy it. I had it picked out and was about to buy it online. But I didn’t. Something was off. I just thought  I shouldn’t spend so much money that year for some reason. Again, a little later I was at a sporting goods store and had the YETI right in front of me and almost bought it. Again, something was off. I don’t remember what gift I ended up getting him, but it wasn’t that. And I wasn’t excited by his reaction when he opened whatever it was that I bought, but I didn’t care for some reason.

I remember thinking later that I’d wished I had gotten the cooler because I wanted it. But whatever, I figured I’d just saved some money and moved on with life.

So now here I am in present day, and I’m relieved that I didn’t buy that damn cooler and listened to my gut. That small little whisper that says “hey, you, what are you doing?”… that little nagging thought that is surrounded by question marks and a weird feeling in your belly…

I recently listened to it again when that asshole was trying to talk me out of buying a home where I’m presently looking. And instead of giving into my frets about him trying to sway my decisions, I called a mortgage broker, which led me to the place where I refinanced my car, which led to my own free YETI cooler and more money for me to save toward my future home.

I’m going to buy a great home, and I’m going to throw a house-warming party with lots of ice and drinks in my YETI cooler.

I’d say this wasn’t just some coincidence. I see you God and your universe angels, quietly looking out for me. My eyes are wide open.

Thank for these gifts that promise cold drinks and peace of mind.

Stifle Me Not

Fretting No Longer

I’ve been fretting a little bit. It’s my own fault. I fret… due to others. It’s this problem of mine that I’ve been trying to rid myself of for quite some time. It’s why my life had to get worse before it got better.

My ex must be bored and overthinking himself to death because he’s slowly surfaced (outside of when he’s interfacing with the kids) and managed to worm his way into an unprotected part of my brain. I’ve been working on this brain of mine. I really have. It’s just that, when I least expect it, old habits die hard and I let that muther-effer get the best of a mini part of my brain. That is all it takes, and it has quite honestly ruined my week.

It’s like he knows when I’m even thinking about doing something different. We’re connected in that way. I always used to know what he was thinking or about to do or say before he did. It was endearing and annoying and quite sabotaging all at the same time.

I’ve been in my parents house with my kids for almost a year now. They are healthy and happy and love their schools. We’ve started seeing new doctors here. I’ve established myself into my new career and job. I don’t think it’s a toxic work environment and it’s certainly not a dead end job of the past. We now live here. Happily.

So with this promise of future income, I’ve been “unofficially” searching for homes the past few weeks, which consists of browsing realtor.com and doing a drive-by when time allows. But lately I’ve had the urge to make the leap to mortgage land.

Earlier this week, my ex sends me a text that he’d like to “talk” to me before I shop for a new home. I text back that nothing is official yet and I’m just browsing. He responds again that he just wants to “talk”.

Do you know what that’s code for? That’s code for he wants to talk me out of buying a house that isn’t conveniently located near him to access the kids whenever he damn well pleases.

I have no support system up north by him. He is a firefighter, so when he’s working (which is often), I have no one to help out me and my kids. He has as much access to our kids as he wants right now – no matter the hour distance. We each drive half-way to meet up when we exchange the kids. Post-divorce control mechanisms have no part in my life now, or ever. However, he apparently thinks that he can even pull it off.

I simply responded to his text, “ok”… and in my head I was a wreck for the rest of the week. I’ve been waiting for him to text back and demand talking to me. I’ve been dreading this damn talk. I’ve been trying to come up with what words I’d say and not say so that I wouldn’t piss him off.

His text was on Tuesday. Today is Sunday. It took me more than 5 days to realize that I don’t have to talk to him about my future living arrangements. It’s not like I’m trying to move out of the country. I’m in the same area I’ve always been, it would just be in my own home. And that kills him. He doesn’t want me to succeed. He wants to control me.

I’m my own person, with my own thoughts, and my own free will. I’m not a bad person. I’m not insane (as I’ve told time and time again for years and years … “you’re insane!”). I’m doing what’s best for my kids. They aren’t being put into bad situations and they see their dad regularly. This is better for them than me living with him and ending up mentally ill from not being able to acknowledge the reality of being in a painful relationship with him. I’m doing what’s right and good. He’s trying to control me. He’s a narcissist. He’s gas-lighting me as he’s done dozens upon dozens of times before.

So I have not talked to him. I sent an email to a mortgage broker instead. 

Stifle Me Not.

Confident

I’m proud of myself lately. I don’t know who I’ve become, but I’m way better off than in previous years.

2 years ago, something seemed off, but I wasn’t sure what it was. Little did I know that I was going to have a “Life Overhaul” within the next six months.

1.5 years ago, I was literally in despair and consumed in a world of confusion and chaos.

1 year ago, I was about to sell my house and dive into the great unknown. No job, no relationship, no home as I knew it – no clarity whatsoever.

6 months ago, I was working a part-time job without benefits and just barely making ends meet.

Today, the possibilities seem endless. I’ve come a long way.

Lately, if I think it, I make it come true.

I’m not afraid to make things happen. If I want it, I go get it. I was never like this before.

Example: I’ve been at my job for a month now. I was told by my boss, when I first started, that I there would be an out of town meeting that I would have to go to. It was very early in the morning, meaning I’d have to go out of town the evening before, and stay at a hotel to be there in time. I knew full well that it was a good idea to go and begin forming relationships with people that I’ll be constantly working with.

I silently fretted about this because of my kids, but quickly made child care arrangements so that I could go.

So this week rolls around and my boss informs me that I don’t have to go for the full meeting. Just about 2 hours of it. What? He was trying to be nice. He was trying to be considerate that I have kids and not make me drive down the night before. I was disappointed because I wanted to meet these new people I’ll be working with. And I was annoyed because I already went to great lengths to adjust my schedule.

Old me would’ve been mad and just listened to my boss and only gone for the 2 hours I was told. All while silently resenting the fact that I should be there the whole time.

New me waited a day, voiced her opinion that it would probably better for the long term if I went for the full meeting. As it turns out, the boss was happy to get me a hotel room and have me come for the whole meeting.

This may not sound like a big deal, but in old me vs. new me land, it is. I used to let people and situations intimidate me. It would wear me out. And then I would wonder why I was so unhappy.

I just don’t feel so afraid of, well, life, anymore.

I hear myself talking to family, friends, co-workers.. and I sound confident.

Confident.

I’m happy with my job. I’m happy with my kids. I’m happy that I’m me. I’m so thankful for this feeling. It is amazing.

The possibilities are endless.

Stifle Me Not