2019-08-20 How Much is Enough?

How many things can I cross off my list? How many things do I need to cross off to feel as if I’m doing enough? That I’ve done enough? Enough for what?

To earn my keep here?

To feel like I’ve actually accomplished something substantial and worthwhile?

To earn some reward or rest or treating myself to something selfish?

Don’t get me wrong, I spend plenty of time on selfish pursuits. But if the joy is not in them, then there must be something wrong. Right?

Between yesterday and today I’ve crossed almost every task I’ve written down. All but 1, and I have it in my mind to get that done before Friday. Roll into the weekend easy.

Sometime today I talked myself out of throwing a “dog days of summer” party on Saturday and that released me from the responsibility of doing about 4 things on my list, including extending invitations for the shindig. I told Jim at lunch and he said he was not surprised about that. I procrastinated the invites and that means I was still very much on the fence about it.

I got the idea after our last party which was, as it always is, a family affair and it was about 25 relatives from his side and a big fat zero from mine. Nothing like feeling like I’m alone on an island, albeit a beautiful one. I decided we would have a party and invite friends instead. But, as I said, I drug my feet on it until it seemed more a chore than anything else. Cleaning and preparing for guests and such involves a level of effort I just lost the heart to take on.

I’m supposed to go wedding dress shopping again tonight and my heart is not in that either. Whatever. I’m just feeling unsatisfied and I’m not sure how to fix it, and it’s only Tuesday.

And while we are on the subject of me being a spoiled brat and not satisfied with anything with nothing real to complain about.. my arm hurts. Damn it, it sucks to get old.

Jim just says “call the ortho”. That’s right. Get a shot, take a pill, rub some creme on it. So you say you are exhausted every day by 10am and not sleeping? Here’s a prescription for Xanax and we can try again with that hormone replacement therapy.

We can drain that HSA that nobody is contributing to anymore and we’ll worry about the fact that the kids still don’t have health insurance when it hits bottom. But all that will be fixed next February when I get married. Because that’s a reason to get married. What about Love?

Maybe I’m just not feeling very loved and appreciated. Maybe I’m not giving enough to get some back. Maybe I’m not trying hard enough.

Again, I ask, how much is enough?

Well this is certainly enough of this blog post. All this complaining.. ain’t nobody got time for that.

Peace and love,

~Miss SugarCookie

2018-01-20 Dreams and Unresolved Feelings

Welcome to Saturday. In truth, it’s a day for me like any other. It’s gym time first followed by a writing workshop downtown and then I’m going to try and get a little more time in on a work document. My life is so exciting.

One thing good that comes from such a boring existence is a decent amount of sleep. I woke up this morning just after 5 and was able to go back to sleep for a few more hours of dreaming. And dream I did.

Last night the maker of dreams brought me incomprehensible insight into my relationship with both Josh and Simon. I don’t remember anything about the one with Josh and that one was probably inspired by the fact we hung out for a few hours at his house last night. That’s something I have not done for months and months.

We were planning to take a closer look at some self authoring, eye opening, life changing program he found online. Once I actually read the content in their landing page, I pretty much decided I wasn’t interested. Instead I helped him with a sewing machine and a little project to mend a few articles of clothing and then just talked.

With him it’s always the same story, only the days and weeks and years change. It’s not my story to tell so I’ll just drop it there.

The last dream I had before I woke up was about Simon. It was also really incoherent but the overarching “feeling” I had during the dream which lingered a bit after I woke up was that “I” was not good enough. It was just a feeling, but sort of sums up how that whole relationship made me feel.

Most things I did were inadequate. Some were indirectly stated through my interpretation of his words and actions and some were just flat out explicit.

I don’t have an issue with self esteem and I try and approach things with an open mind that there could be a better way of doing something. I’m not above trying new things and truly believe that’s the best way to be in order to learn and grow. So I was welcoming of the indirect criticism and even direct suggestions about certain things. However, feeling constantly inadequate was the result and that’s rotten.

Frankly, after some evaluation, some of the things I’m talking about were, in fact, not better. There might be a “proper” way to set a table and use a knife to cut with the right hand and eat with a fork in the left, but that’s just absurd. I don’t live in Buckingham Fuking Palace. I live in Nebraska and I’m an American who eats with a fork in my right hand. I’m sure that his ‘way’ comes from his British upbringing, but that doesn’t mean it’s better.

That’s just one example, but it’s a pretty good one. There were issues with my cooking and how he’s just superior but in truth, there are only like four things he made regularly and one of them was an omlet. Flipping an omlet in the pan does not equate to being a master chef and in my opinion, anyone who does not put cheese on a cheeseburger is just daft. Food is very subjective but there was a specific instance where I was made to feel bad about breaking a yolk when cracking an egg for fried eggs. For real!

Not only that but he went so far as to eat that one to “show” me how ok he was with it and patted himself openly on the back for that gesture. Yes.. for real!!

His habit of giving himself credit for these sort of things was just putting an exclamation point on both his self-centered nature and his general attitude that he was better than most.

At one point he said that he was proud of himself for being sensitive to my feelings. How on earth is THAT something to be proud of. You’re dating a girl and you feel the need to point out that you acknowledge the she has feelings? And this was after a conversation that left me tearie-eyed. So he made me cry AND THEN went on to say how wonderful he was to have recognized the effect that conversation had in me. Dude.. if you didn’t, you probably aren’t human. That’s nothing to be proud of. And even if you are pleased with yourself, maybe you should just keep it to yourself.

Several weeks back, before our breakup that wasn’t a breakup, I wrote about the fact that I wasn’t going to go into any detail about all his faults. Well.. that’s out the window now!! 😜

There’s more, but I’m going to try and keep it to myself. I guess I just haven’t achieved appropriate closure on that little experiment.

He’s supposed to come over to my place tomorrow to help patch a hole in my wall where the old thermostat and humidifier control panels were pried out. I only agreed to this because he owes me one and I don’t want to pay someone to do it. After that, I’m just going to let it all fade to nothing naturally.

Hopefully writing the unwritten will release me from feeling unresolved about all of it and my dreams will get the hint and just leave him out of the picture from now on.

Moving On,

~Miss SugarCookie

2017-11-09 How I Really Feel

The major disclaimer that I professed when I started this blog is that it would contain my raw, unedited feelings about everything that I have gone through and everything that I am going through. I do make an effort to keep things as transparent as possible and as “readable” as possible, but some days that’s just not possible. Today is one of those days. So this may seem a little bit all over the place.. and quite raw.

Yes, I just got back from one of the biggest vacations of my life, and there’s something more hidden under the surface of that which has yet to be revealed.

Yes, I am just about to start my period and as such I’m more emotional than normal. Typically, I recognize these days and try not to over-react to things or over-think things and above all else, not make any rash decisions. Historically, I will know that how I am feeling may be magnified by the hormones in my body wrecking havoc on my brain, and if something comes up, I tell myself “wait a few days, and if you still feel the same, then go ahead and address it then”. That has worked and I think kept me out of a few conflicts I may have otherwise entered into needlessly.

I am an open book for anyone who wants to know anything about me. All a person needs to do is ask. Most people don’t ask though. Most people just don’t care. I get it. Everyone is living their own lives where they are the center of the universe and it’s up to me to care about me and try not to worry too much that nobody else cares about me. My kids care about me, but even with them, they are the center of their own universe too, so they only care so far as their interests are concerned.

Before I went to Hawaii, I had several people ask me about it. I told the truth. I said I’ve always wanted to go, and that I had once thought the trip would be a wonderful romantic destination and even thought it might be where I would go on my honeymoon. I would say this and then follow that up with “but that never happened, so I decided to go anyway.” I’m sure I said this with a sideways smile.

It’s wonderful I was able to go and I want to be grateful and I am grateful but, god damn if I don’t also feel just so upset that this worked out the way it did. It feels unfair. I feel so unloved. What I did not disclose until now is that one of the most emotional moments I had was when I sat down in my seat on the first plane to come back home and buckled myself in. In that instant, I just burst into tears.

I had shared every wonderful picture I took on Facebook so people could see every place and thing we saw that was picture worthy. I wanted that for posterity but also so people would know we went and think we had a great time. The rush of emotions I felt on the plane was instigated by thoughts about my failed relationship with Matt. I was supposed to be on that plane with him. I was supposed to be living with the love of my life and planning the rest our lives together. I was supposed to be going home to “our” home, but instead, I was headed for a big empty house (save for my kitten), and facing the reality of my life decisions.

I’m unemployed, single, struggling to raise my kids right, and constantly battling the big question of “what am I going to do with the rest of my life?”. Why can’t I figure it out? Why does it seem so freaking important that there’s a man in the picture? Why can’t I just be happy being alone. Why can’t I just be content to work on HL7 for the rest of my career? Why does it have to be freezing cold in Omaha? None of it seems fair.

I’ve been waiting for over a month now to get word on my MFA application. Each day that goes by I get more and more irritated that they have not gotten back to me yet. Don’t they know that my whole life hangs in the balance? Not that I can afford that shit now anyway. So that’s irony for you.. If I have a job I can afford the MFA program but I probably will not have time to do it.. If I don’t have a job, I’ll have plenty of time, but I won’t be able to afford it.

Tonight I’m going to a show and tell story slam. If I can keep from loosing my nerve, I will be on that “stage” telling a story (more like reading). Ironically, the entire story is a metaphor for the finding and loosing my love for Matt. None of those people know me, and hey, I know they don’t care anyway, so it won’t make any difference what my story is. I can’t help but think about the fact that I wrote that in 2015, way before the worst year of my life in 2016. I wrote it way before the first time I broke up with him. I wrote it way before he proposed to me. Way before the final curtain.

Yes, in May of 2015 I was already writing about finding and losing that part of me that was romantically in love. In truth, it was more about me loosing the feeling of love than it was about Matt or anything else. It took another year and three months before “we” were really done. And tonight, I’m going to stand up in front of an audience and tell a story that conveys those feelings. Perhaps there is no better time than right now with my emotions being on overload to allow those feelings to show through. I just have to be brave and get up on that stage.

I’ve been struggling a lot today just to keep it together. All I want right now is for the rest of this day to fly by so I can go to bed and wake up tomorrow and hopefully have some relief from this grief. I have so many more things running amok in my head, but I’d better just stop now and see about getting myself together for this story telling.

Impatiently waiting,
~Miss SugarCookie

2017-10-04 Oh the Tragedy of Reality 

I woke up this morning feeling sadness. I’ve been riding on such a high the past week or so I guess it was bound to end eventually. I mean, emotions are situational and fleeting and the reality is that there’s not a whole lot of permanence in this life.

Relationships are temporary. Events that we enjoy come and go. Hurt fades like the jagged edges of a stone worn away by years of water passing over it. Sometimes the change of the tides is welcome and sometimes it leaves us questioning the purpose or meaning of it all. 
This morning I’m just filled with melancholy and an infinite sadness (que the Smashing Pumpkins). 
A week ago I was applying for a job at UNMC and dreading it. I’d come to the conclusion that I didn’t want to do the same thing I’ve always done. But then what?
I then had a major epiphany that I should pursue my writing. It check all the boxes but one. I enjoy it, I’m passionate about it, it’s fulfilling, and I’m certain would lead me to getting more satisfaction out of life. The box it doesn’t check? Poetry won’t pay the bills. 
I rode the emotional high I was on as I jumped through all the hoops required to get the application completed. Most of it was easy and actually quite enjoyable. I revisited my past to collect all my transcripts and it’s nice to look at ones accomplishments. I meet up and had conversations with friends and former colleagues to share my news and ask for their help. Again, wonderful to see and talk with these people I care about. I then had to compile a collection of my favorite poems and compose some words describing my journey thus far and why this program is right for me. It was delightful. I had everything submitted before the deadline of October 1st. Great success! 
Then October 2nd happened. I woke up and checked my email in-box, which is my normal practice. I was greeted with an email that my checking account was overdrawn. My house payment would not clear without more funds being deposited. It’s an easy enough thing to remedy by transferring funds from savings, but also a good reminder that I’m operating in a state that has definite limitations. There’s a finite amount in my savings and not more where that came from without work. 
In addition, I just happened to look up how much the writing MFA costs and found that it’s going to be 30K+. Yowza!! That’s just not an easy figure to reconcile with my current state of being. If money wasn’t a factor, I’d not be taking a serious pause about this decision. But as it is, I am. Not only does poetry not pay bills, it also doesn’t pay back student loans or take me on vacations. 
The hopeless romantic in me argues that it’s only money and does not matter because we should pursue our passions no matter the cost. 
The realist in me recognizes that we probably can’t have our cake and eat it too. I have to figure out what to do to earn money. If by some chance I can find something that will cover my monthly expenses while being flexible enough to allow me to continue pursuit of the MFA, not to mention parenting, household maintenance, relationships, and freetime activities that would be.. well.. a miracle. 
It’s a financial puzzle as well as one one of life balance. I’ve over extended myself before and though I’ve always made it work, it’s not easy and at times taken a toll on me. Am I in for that again or should I take an easier path? The way is unclear. 
I woke up this morning with trepidation about my predicament and worry that I’m going to choose wrong. I’m not fearless and I don’t have a ton of support. Whatever I do, I have to do it on my own and it’s scary.

My children depend on me and I’m leaning toward what my head is telling me and away from what my heart wants. Should I just wait five more years until they are gone to follow these dreams? I might not have a choice, 
Sinking in the Cupid De Locke, 

~Miss SugarCookie

2017-05-25 No Day Like Today for a Change

When I went to sleep last night, it was late and I was tired and I felt completely drained emotionally from the last few days. I’ve been up and down and around the block with these life questions and really felt I was at the end of what I could possibly take.

Truth be told, I became overwhelmed with the feeling of it all. That’s when you know it’s time for a change. Today, come hell or high-water, something is about to change.

A week ago, I was gearing up to quit my job, and ended up asking for a sabbatical instead. I don’t know if my manager picked up on the gravity of my state of thinking, but it has been a week since then and I feel like that is plenty of time for them to have worked out what they could do for me.

I’ve considered just quitting anyway.
I’ve considered asking to step down as team lead.
I’ve considered offering just to work on a contract basis for a set number of hours on specific projects.

The time for thinking about all of this is done and now it is time for action. I made the first move last week, so today, we’ll see what they bring back to the table. I might have mixed emotions, but I still don’t have any fear. I trust that it will all turn out like it is supposed to.

One of the things I pondered yesterday was about how I feel when I’m considering the different options. When thinking about staying at my company, I am filled with dread and when thinking about leaving, I feel relief. When I think about what it will be like when July gets here and I don’t have to deal with the stress and pressure and anger and responsibility, I feel calm and happy. That’s a pretty strong case for just saying sayonara. And, you know, there is a lot of detail behind that, but the emotions speak volumes.

It kind of feels like I’m hashing it all over again now trying to convince myself, and that’s really not the case. I’ve done my homework, I have confidence in my course of action, and I’m ready to pull the trigger.

Perhaps it’s just a little quitting day pep-talk. A motivational writing session, if you will, to set the tone.

It’s going to be a beautiful day out today. The sun is just now coming up and the weather promises to be sunny and 75. A top ten day. The perfect day, in fact, for celebrating change.

Time to Rise and Shine,
~Miss SugarCookie

2017-04-30 It’s All Just Rotten

I probably wrote a couple of weeks ago that Matt had texted me a couple of times. And then we had a phone call on random Tuesday night. The next day is when I wrote “Waking Up Wednesday Wondering Why”. I don’t have to wonder more, now. Because now I’ve narrowed it down. Matt wants to talk to me because he wants to live in a world where we can be friends and there are no hard feelings.

Well guess what?! There ARE hard feelings. And life is hard. And being an adult is hard. And sometimes you just have to face that and realize that you can’t change or control it. Then you have no choice but to let it go. For me, that’s been a struggle. It has been a struggle I can’t even begin to describe. Never in my life have I felt so low or emotionally out of control or beyond words. Never.

He texted me again today and apparently just got back from Zion. I asked him if he went with someone and he avoided the question by saying “Yes a group of 8”. I asked again, “but more specifically with someone you are dating”. He said yes. Then I followed that up by asking if it was Lindsey, the girl I found out he started to date last year, which he did not know I knew about. He said yes. So he has been dating the same girl for the past 7 months include the entire time I was in train wreck mode and trying to “give him space” and hoping he would come back to me. Rotten.

I asked the questions knowing I was not prepared for the answers. Someone once told me don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to, and I guess I thought if he was going to continue to contact me, I would have to know the answers, whether I was ready for them or not. It turns out, I wasn’t ready. I’m fucking sick to my stomach right now. Really.

He called me on the phone after I responded to his last text with “I wish I would have known before”. At that time, I was in the car with Zoey and we were on our way to the nail place to get our nails done and I said I could not talk and told him I would call him back later in the day. I broke down crying in the car and Z tried to comfort me. We went and did the nail thing anyway.

Now I’m back home and thinking all over again about everything. I’m looking back at the timing of all my journal entries wondering again “how did I get here?”. Less than a year ago he proposed to me. Now he’s been dating someone else for 7 months? How in the world does that make any sense? I’m so angry and sad and frustrated and confused all at once.

I did try to call him back when I got home but there was no answer. You have got to be kidding me. Really?

I think I am going to go to the gym and do some cardio. I have to get some of this emotion out somehow.

Grrrrrrrr,
~Miss SugarCookie

2017-02-08 You Can’t Always Get What You Want

But if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need…

OR NOT.

I’ve had a cardboard box of stuff packed up for a couple of days now. The box has been sitting on my kitchen table and I’ve had to stare it down at every breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Seeing it fills me with sadness. The last bits and pieces of things Matt left behind. You know, like underwear and socks from his dresser drawer and a silly hat I borrowed one year for halloween. There were some family items he asked me not to get rid of and a food processor he didn’t really want but I never used. There were books and charger cables and cufflinks he got for being a groomsman in his friends wedding. Yeah, stuff like that. Five years of a life together condensed into one box.

***

Oh the tragedy of my broken heart.
The space inside it more empty from the pouring.
All the love and affection I ever felt for you
All the gazing into eyes adoring

All packed neatly now into a single box.
I wonder.. can a broken heart break even more?
Asked and answered, yes, with tears
As I lay the box at your feet inside your door.

***

I decided that today was the day I was going to deliver the box of stuff. Last week I concluded that I didn’t need to have a conversation about the state of our relationship or even just say what I wanted to say about it. I convinced myself that nothing was going to change and what words I had did not matter and I should just move on. This was solidified by the fact that I had actually attempted to reach out to set up a meeting and was thrice denied or ignored… I waited a week. But really, I’ve been waiting since last October.

I actually did not expect him to be home. I expected he might still be at work and I was planning on leaving it on his doorstep. I even wrapped it in plastic in case it sat for a while. But he was home and answered the door and I truly was not prepared. I immediately busted into tears and could barely get words to come out of my mouth. “I wanted to give you this stuff back”.

He said “I’m sorry I never got back to you. Do you want to come in and talk”.

I said “No, I can’t. Zoey is waiting in the car”.

He said “Do you want to meet for lunch or something”.

I don’t remember what I said, and from there it’s a blur. Maybe I said “maybe” or “I don’t know” or “that might be ok” or “that might not be a good idea”. I remember saying “I have some things I would like to say, but you are not obligated to listen”.

I tried to say goodbye and he asked for a hug. So we hugged. It was so incredibly difficult I can’t even describe it now without welling up with tears. Then I think he may have asked about lunch again. That time I said “If you want to”. That’s how I left it. He has to want it. I want someone who wants me. Wants us.

The look on his face was that of a person who genuinely feels bad. I’ve seen it before. It was one of remorse with maybe a little desperation and surprise mixed in. I saw it when I broke up with him a year ago in January. I saw it again when he proposed to me in the summer and I said no.

I’ve been through so much turmoil the past four months and waiting for him to decide what he wants was/is killing me. It was completely obvious after this event that I’m not over it, or even stable. If I can’t have a simple conversation without a mental breakdown, that’s pretty telling.

I don’t know what it is going to take for me to get over this. I want to be over it. I want closure. I want to be able to move on. But you can’t always get what you want.

The question is, if I keep trying, will I get what I truly need?