2021-06-05 Cliches About Time are Cliche Because of Their Truth

The push and pull of all these days blurs into a gravity that begs to be let go of. Time is relative. Emotions are relative. Thoughts are relative. The next thing can only be measured against the last and the moment in time that lingers longer than it should, repeating itself in the mind, becomes greater as time passes. It’s natural.

Funny how the more you want to let it go, the harder it holds on and the harder you want to hold onto it, the faster it slips away. Why? I often think that I’m not ready to work on answers to the questions yet, because I’m still working on the questions. Maybe in my last minutes wandering this waking world I’ll come to understand the questions. Maybe then, and only then, I will feel ready for the answers. 

Since the funeral on Thursday, I’ve been replaying the same moment in my head over and over again. Each time I think maybe I can get through it without that emotional swell that brings me to tears. 

My mom and I arrived 20 minutes early for the funeral and there was no one in the receiving line before entering the main part of the chapel. Even before I saw the line, I could feel my emotions rising through my body, in my stomach, and up into my throat. By the time I was standing in front of my ex, i was already full and bursting from the eyes. I attempted to maintain my composure as I gave him a light hug and offered my condolences. 

Next was his mom, who I had been most worried about and felt very sad for. She hugged me tightly and whispered in my ear, she loves me, she’s glad I came, thanks for sending flowers, and that I’ve done a good job raising the kids. 

See, I can’t think of it now without tearing up again. 

I was worried and anxious and had nothing to worry about. I wish I had been more prepared. So many unsaid things are in my head and it’s too late for me to say them. So now they are stuck inside of me. And now I realize it’s too late, their “stuck-ness” hurts. 

I proceeded down the receiving line. Kristy, Wendy, Scott, and Larry. Family that used to be my family. Family that would be my family had I stayed married. Family that I was separated from suddenly and unnaturally. It was the toughest part of my divorce and standing there I was reduced to my younger self, broken and exposed and not knowing what to say. 

I hugged each person in turn, followed by my mom making easy casual conversation with folks the way she does. Why couldn’t I have inherited her easy social nature? 

We proceeded into the church and selected a spot near the back of the room. The service was nice. The personal portion was touching and the religious portion allowed me to splay my thoughts in different directions. 

My children were there, sitting with their cousins and though I said hello to them, it felt like I was approaching strangers, not really a part of that circle. They are all so grown up. The oldest cousin having children of his own now. That’s life. 

We didn’t stay for the reception after. My mom was in a hurry to get going. I almost regretted bringing her as I may have stayed longer if it wasn’t for her. It was probably for the best. I don’t really belong anyway and it would have been awkward. 

That was 2 days ago and that 120 second clip of navigating the interactions in that line will not stop replaying in my mind. Two mornings now I’ve woke up thinking about it. The words whispered, the embraces, the flood of emotions. It leaves me wondering what I will need to do to release myself from repeating that memory. That’s the question. 

I’ve told three people, and each time I began to get weepy and still that did not help. I’m hoping writing this will help. I guess we’ll see. Time will tell. 

Time heals and time wounds. Time is forgiving and cruel. Time keeps its secrets until it’s too late, revealing the questions when the answers no longer matter. 

My former father-in-law is gone and I can no longer tell him how I feel about him and how much he means to me, my memories locked inside because I’m not able to sit around the table with the family and reminisce. 

I can’t reach back in time and change anything. I can’t rewind and ask my grandfather about his life. I can’t stay in touch with Stacey and convince her life is worth sticking around for or change the way I treated KS. Life goes on and as cliche as it is, it waits for no one. 

That’s a good a place as any to stop. There’s more I could say about family and attempting to spend more quality time lately, but it’s Saturday and going to be hot out and I need to water my plants. 

Another cliche but so true—there’s no time like the present.

With peace and love, 

~Miss SugarCookie

2021-06-03 Coming to a Few Conclusions

I’ve tried a few times so far this week to write something. It’s just not there, you know, and I’m not inclined to fight it. 

The rest of our KC road trip came and went and I began to write about that, but got distracted by life and stuff needing attention. 

I’ve wanted to write about my former father-in-law and how I felt a dull ache in my heart for days and angst over whether or not I should go to the funeral. I gave blood last week and began crying on the “table” during the donation and had to wave off the concerned Red Cross staff, letting them know it was something else entirely and I was fine.

The funeral is today and I’m going. I asked a few people if I should or not and wasn’t satisfied with any of the answers I received. Not because they didn’t make logical sense or because they were contrary to what I actually wanted, but because I was looking for someone else to tell me what to do and I suppose in the end I didn’t really want advice. I wanted to want advice, if that makes sense, but in my heart I already knew what I wanted, which was to go and grieve for myself and support my children. Isn’t that what funerals are for? 

Like much of life, it can be whatever you want, you just need to figure out what you want. The lucky among us figure that out with enough time left to actually act on our wants and desires. 

My mom is going to the funeral with me. I asked her yesterday and at the risk of sounding shady and cold, she owes me. A person should not have to go to a funeral alone. In my life I’ve often felt that it was better to face grief in a solitary fashion—work out me feelings for myself, but I’ve learned over the years that this is backward thinking. I’m not too proud to admit I was wrong. People need people. 

I won’t get to sit with my children, of course, as they will be with their dad up front. I just hope they don’t make my son cut his hair for this. I have a feeling his dad might. 

Sometimes waiting for a funeral is like holding your breath and I’m really looking forward to it being over so I can exhale. 

I’d like to write more about all of this, but the words are just not there. Such is life. 

Peace and love, 

~Miss SugarCookie

2021-05-27 The Elephant in my Heart

After a time.. feel as though my hiding from the world at large is exhausting.

Maybe I’m just exhausted from lack of sleep. No matter how productive I am, it’s not productive enough. 

Still..  was looking forward to today when I woke up. Despite the dishes piling up, clumps in the litter box piling up, and mail requiring attention piling up, I’m still looking forward. The biggest question now is if I’m writing that because I want it to be true or if it’s actually true. 

My friend T texted she won’t be at the exercise class today, the one I vowed a few weeks ago I was quitting but too chicken-shit to tell her so I ponied up 50 more bucks for 5 more classes. 10 bucks a class is outrageous. The only way I can get my monies worth is to get the unlimited package and then go to like a gazillion classes. 

I need to grow a spine and just tell her. She probably already thinks I’m a complete flake, backing out of class after class. Then yesterday I went and lifted too heavy on biceps and hurt my arm. I’m going to start lifting with my husband instead. We have all this damn equipment at home I never use .. I just need another person to feel motivated to exercise (outside this treadmill walking). 

Why is that? 

I just need to tell T I want to hang out with her outside of a class, just you know, coffee or the zoo with her kids, or just sitting at one of our houses. 

Right now I’m avoiding the elephant in the room of my heart—the passing of my former father in law, my kids’ grandpa. He was a father figure to me for 18 years of my life and a genuinely wonderful person. I had a better relationship with him and his wife than my own parents who never paid any attention to me. His parents cared and they showed it.

And on it went like that through the duration of my 18 year marriage until the day I ended things with my ex husband and became enemy #1 in the eyes of my mother in law. I had to sacrifice my relationships with most members of his family for that decision, including the one I had developed with Larry. Sad that it had to be like that.

Just because I haven’t talked to them in years doesn’t mean I don’t feel grief. I do. I am hurting. I’m feeling it for myself, my ex-husband, my children, for the whole family. Funny the way it is when someone dies and you just don’t know what to say. I just don’t know what to say.

The kids are pretty closed up at this point, their first (close) grandparent to pass and just internalizing their own pain. They don’t want to talk about it and we’re all holding our breath in a vacuum waiting for news about services. The longer we have to wait, the more likely it willl be this weekend, which is in conflict with my daughters first planned road trip with a friend. She’s had so many disappointments from plans being derailed in the last few years, it’s disheartening.

I’m a little closed too, kind of feeling I have no one to talk to about how I feel about him or his dying. We all knew it was imminent, but that doesn’t make it any easier. I think most people would think I have no right to be upset, because it’s been so long but people feel how they feel. That is part of what makes us human.

For me this creates a bit of a conundrum about whether or not I should go to the funeral. If I had my way I would but Jim thinks I should not. I feel like it’s the respectful thing to do but he thinks it would not be right. It’s one of those situations where I don’t trust my own judgement and seeking counsel from others. Ultimately the decision is mine but I just want someone else to tell me what to do. But the fact that I’m resisting Jim’s advice is telling.

It has been 10+ years since I had interaction with the family. But I want to be there for myself and my kids. But they have their dad. But their dad might want me there. But he might not. My head goes back and forth and the worst part of my indecision is thinking if I go for myself that it will be selfish or self-serving like my mom saying she wanted to go to my step-moms funeral last year “for her kids” (all grown and not needing her and frankly not wanting to be there themselves). 

Still, maybe I need some sort of resolution for myself and I shouldn’t be so concerned what other people think. But I do care and their feelings matter. I just don’t know. 

If we were still in the middle of COVID, that would be a big reason not to go. But we’ve all been vaccinated now. I just don’t know. 

I’m not really feeling motivated to continue walking (or thinking about this) right now. I have so much to do today. Too much.

Deep sighs,

~Miss SugarCookie

2020-12-05 Stranger than Fiction

It’s 3:30am and I’m headed into what I hope is the last long day of a string of long days that has left me sleepless, and full of Negative emotion.

Yesterday was the first day I didn’t go across the river to CB and the plans I tried to make with my brother didn’t pan out because his time is always at a premium when he’s home. My mom took prescient but that’s ok because she’s been needing company and someone to talk to lately too.

Today we’re having what I can only guess will be a small gathering of friends and family at a funeral home in CB for services for my dads wife. My brother and I are the speakers. I’ve had plenty of time to prepare. I’m glad to have arrived at this day actually, because I feel there will be additional release when it’s over.

The whole thing is kind of sketch, you know, meeting in groups and Jim is still on the fence about going. I go back and forth about it but really think I’ll urge him today not to go. The risk is too high.

I’m not immune either but I’m going to try to be careful and distant.

My mom told me she wanted to go, to support us and not only is that a risk too but it’s also awkward. Sure my parents were married for 17 years but they have also not really been in any sort of contact beyond events for their kids and grandchildren for 30+ years.

It’s bizarre to have them both losing their spouses at the same time. My mom suffering slowly over a number of years and my dad hit suddenly with tragedy. Life is truly stranger than fiction. As a teenager and even into my 20s I had daydreams of my parent’s reconciling. I think that’s normal.

I wonder if my kids have that with me and their dad. I don’t think so. They were so young when we split they probably don’t remember what life was like before that. Nothing to daydream about I suppose.

I spoke to my ex yesterday. He offered to come to the service too, to support the kids. I told him it was not necessary and that I didn’t even want the kids to go really which is kind of a fib but I really don’t want him there or my mom or my youngest sister either who is now suddenly back in town too because of her dad.

Yeah, life is a total cluster right now. As if 2020 wasn’t bad enough. But it will be good to have her home for a while.

Ten months ago my siblings all came home to celebrate my marriage. That was in February just before the Covid hit the fan. I never could have imagined at that point how this year would go and of course, I never expected all this either.

I have to remind myself that this too shall pass. Covid, winter, heightened states of grief, isolation, sleeplessness. It will all be over at some point and longer, brighter, better days will return. That’s just the way of things. You know? That’s life.

It’s now 4am and I’ve already got 4.5k steps. It really doesn’t matter what I do right now, it feels like it could be 7 or 8am. Yesterday I worked on GLR stuff in the middle of the night and it actually made me feel better to make progress on something. That lit mag’s not going to run itself!

There’s more I could do this morning (there’s always more) but I think the exercise makes me feel good. If I run out of things to write about I’ve got a healthy pile of poems stacking up in my in-box and on my shelf. I’ve got a lecture to write. I’ve got a reading to prepare for. I’ve got Christmas ornaments to hang. The house got halfway decorated by last Monday and nothing has been done since. I think tomorrow will be the day for picking back up on that.

We’ll see.

I suppose that’s it for now.
Peace and Love,
~Miss SugarCookie

2020-12-02 Timeline of Grief

We all operate at different speeds. Something happens, an unexpected death and the ways society operates with such precision, dictating procedure and timing. Some of these are for good reason, necessary steps such as removing physical remains to more appropriate locations.

I’ve never before been a witness of someone who has passed into the next plain of existence, whatever that is, and  watch as the body they left behind us escorted away. Until this past Monday.

She did not look like the woman I knew so it did not seem real. I was sitting just out of view when they moved her onto the stretcher and zipped closed the shiny bag with it’s geometric pattern of cream and burgundy. I watched as her grandsons helped wheel her out of the house. “Just a body now,” I tell myself. But in my head it doesn’t seem real.

My empathy is overwhelming and I can’t help but weep with those broken down. Grief overflowing all the cups in the room. I’m crying too, for them. In those delicate moments I’m not crying for myself. I’m not there yet. My timing is different.

Cultural process dictate that arrangements be made. Conversations are required. Being on the periphery, my input is not needed. Maybe just for the correct spelling of names to be printed. A few names among a very healthy lineage, biologic and otherwise.

A day later we’re sitting in the party room of a restaurant. One of my first visits inside an establishment to sit around a table and have a meal since the onset of the pandemic. No one at that table was prepared for the conversation. No one had done any planning for the processes society forces us to conduct, decisions to be made.

No religious services, cremation, thoughts of a burial plot shared with parents near Walnut Iowa. Splitting ashes so my dad can have a part of her remains close to him. The writing of her obit for the paper and the handout at the service. The decision to position the gathering as a celebration of life. Details forthcoming.

I listen and have little to contribute. Talk around the table is contained. No one is in tears so I’m ok too, just listening as I try to eat a meal. Unmasked and wondering if I’ll be quarantined when I get home.

After that we part ways. The core crew headed to the funeral home to finalize arrangements. I get in my car and drive home alone with my thoughts.

I feel sort of lost in not knowing what to expect next or when “things” will happen.
I tell myself that I just need to keep being there for my dad, who just a few short months ago celebrated his 30 year anniversary with the woman he chose to spend his life with.

Later he calls me. Tells me “service” will be Saturday followed by a family gathering of Pizza King Pizza which is a long time family favorite for us and lots of other families living in the Council Bluffs area.

Then he asks if I’ll say a few words on Saturday and, once again, I’m caught unprepared. I say maybe. I’ll think about it. So dumb. Why didn’t I just say yes?!

Of course I will do whatever people need. I realized we are bound by what we collectively need, which is to grieve. But I’m just not there yet. I’m not sure what my speed is but it’s slower than what’s required by society. Saturday feels reassuring. I’ll have plenty of time to prepare.

Last night, after having been awake since about 3:30AM and unable to sleep during the day I declared in a deliriously exhausted state that I was going to bed at 9. I hit my body with magnesium, CBD, Tylenol, and melatonin. I really needed a full nights sleep, which I received.

After Eight full hours I woke groggy at the 6:30 alarm. I woke with a headache and despite the hours, feel unrested. I groaned into the kitchen to make breakfast, feed the fish and cats (inside and outside too).

I stand over a hot griddle, stirring pancake mix and start to cry. For myself this time. Finally.

I’m thinking of a text my friend Kel sent me in the wee hours of the morning (3:24am), sending hugs. I’m thinking of how we are all together alone until death takes us away from this life. I’m thinking about how this is the first of six parental figures I’ll grieve. I’m thinking about my relationships with all of them. All Six.

How greedy life has made me. Who gets to have three sets of parents? Four if you count Jim’s parents, whom I’ve only known a short time.

I recognize I’m processing my own grief on my own timeline and in my own way. I’m sure writing and presenting at my step-moms service will be therapeutic for me (as is writing these words). I’ve already begun to compose what I’m going to say.

There’s plenty of time left ‘till Saturday.

Peace,
~Miss SugarCookie

2018-09-18 Letting Go

It’s tough when you are in the middle of grief. There’s a method to the madness that includes anger and denial and acceptance and bargaining and depression. It can be a visious cycle, downward spiral, and at times the “acceptance” stage can seem like an impossible uphill climb. Even for the most logical mind, the emotions can play tricks on your reality. I think that’s the costume of bargaining and he’s a stealthy trickster. I met bargaining for the first time about this time of year in 2016 and it mowed me down for a good 2+ months. Eventually the spiral goes back up (hopefully) and you start to climb the mountain of acceptance. That climb took me most of 2017. But what happens after that?

What happens after you have planted your flag somewhere safe on that mountain and can see you have left anger and depression and denial far below. From this vantage point the air is clear and you can see a long way. Take deep breaths, acceptance is sweet. You may be tempted to pitch a tent and stay at this location, relief from your pursuers is a wonderful feeling. However, I would contend that the journey is not over. I would propose there is another stage and unless you continue to climb, part of you will never be free from the grief. That stage is letting go.

Some may argue that acceptance and letting go are just two sides of the same coin, but I believe that they are completely separate. I believe this because I feel I accepted the circumstances from 2016 that left me lost and broken. I accepted the end of a five year relationship I once thought would last the rest of my life and I accepted the reality of the stress my job was placing on me and how it was affecting my health. I accepted my loneliness and my failures, but I realized recently that I really have not let go.

It seems that letting go is also a sneaky trickster. It’s master illusion is making you think you have already let go, that all is well. Then one day when you least expect it, the faces of grief show up again and you have to figure out how to deal with it. Sometimes you have to make a choice, and the choice may seem challenging. It might be crystal clear to those around you, but for some reason, your judgement is clouded. For me, this has manifested in the continued, however infrequent, communication with my ex. My forever love that lasted five years and then ended.

I’ve talked with several people about this and the unanimous consensus is that I should just let him know the door is closed and not to contact me anymore. Why my brain resists this course of action is somewhat a mystery. It’s the logical thing to do yet I still have a tiny voice telling me there is no harm in it and that I’m just being polite when I respond in a friendly way. It’s confusing. Why can’t I just let go?

It’s because letting go is always tough, and the human brain is complex and all those thoughts that creep in again and again make it almost impossible. I’m am happier now than I have ever been in my life. I have a fiancé and we are so in love and the future looks so amazing, why would I have any trouble telling Matt to stop contacting me. Why would I still feel responsible for any hurt he’s still experiencing? It’s because I’m a caring person and I don’t want anyone I ever loved to hurt. I recognize now, after hearing true voices of reason, that things are not what they seem. It’s the continued communication that’s actually hurting me and possibly him.

Rebecca said it best last week and it takes me time to process things but thinking about what she said after the fact makes sense. She said that the contact is hurting me and him and now potentially also Jim. It’s that last one that got through to me. I would never want to do that, ever. I have to cut it off and let go. I have to.

You see, I pitched my tent in a safe and wonderful space, but that’s not good enough. You have to keep moving. You can’t stay where you are ever because everything around you is also in motion. Every life is moving, swaying around the universe and if you stay still, things are going to change anyway. You have to move with life and that’s how you can let go. That means the letting go never really ends. It’s the stage of grief that continues for the rest of your life.

Every person is a collection of their experiences. Whatever that event was that rocked your world is a part of you and will always be. It’s death and new life and injury and love and loss. You just have to keep moving and that’s life.

Truth be told, this whole blog post has been one giant self-pep talk for me. I’ve come to conclusions about what it is I need to do, but needed a little extra help from my inner Miss SugarCookie to get the job done. Today is the day I cut the tie with Matt. I’m letting go. I’m a life in motion and moving forward.

Take a Deep Breath and Just Do It,

~Miss SugarCookie

2017-10-12 On the Flipside

Today I became incredibly sucked into thinking about my past for an hour or more. I was completely distracted from what I originally wanted to be doing with this time and now my time for doing it is running out. I’m glad that it happened, but at the same time, I need every hour of this day to get things done and I feel I’m not as organized as I typically am. I should just forgive myself for being human and then make a list so I can get started.

Still, that trip down memory lane hit me like a ton of bricks and I may not be able to “let go” of how I feel right now. If I truly am going to submit a poem about love and justice, perhaps it should be something new. Maybe instead of closing the book on it and moving on with my day, I should “let go” of the things I thought were important today and use the energy that’s churning inside me now to create.

I felt a shadow of the pain I had before when I read what I wrote. However, re-reading in the context of what I know now about what was going on in October last year brings about a few new feelings. I was trying desperately to convince Matt to come back to me and was met with a stone wall. That’s how I’ve described it. The rejection was terrible and the lack of interest in communication was devastating. Still, he always left me with a tiny sliver of hope. That was garbage.

Months later I find out he had already started dating someone else. If he had let me in on that, I would still have felt an immense amount of pain, but it would have been different. It would be grief knowing some other person had slept in “our” bed. It would be heartache over her getting to do things with him that we used to do together. I had some of that when I finally found out, but I am sure if I had known since October, my grieving process would not have been drawn out so long.

As it was, In December I was still holding onto hope he would go to Mexico with me. That was never going to happen and he should have told me at least that much. I may not have gotten so drunk all through the holidays and the week I was in Mexico. I most certainly would not have waited until March or April or May to start getting on with my life.
So that waste of time sort of feels like an injustice dealt to me. He was moving on, even if he didn’t have the same kinds of feelings for her as he did for me. It was wrong that I was left hoping and waiting.

So maybe my very first poem submission about love and justice should be on the flip side instead and I should write about love and injustice. Love and all the things that aren’t fair about it. Heartbreak and the delicate task of navigating a thick, sticky sea of emotions while keeping the rest of your life together enough that everything else doesn’t go to shit too (kind of like mine seemed to).

I’m not sure, but I should really either go be creative or start hacking away at that to-do list.

Tomorrow I get in a car with my mom to drive to my brother’s place in Colorado. I need to do laundry and dishes and pack some things. I’m also planning to see Simon one more time before I leave… priorities you know. 😉

One Flip, Two Flip, Me Flip, You Flip,
~Miss SugarCookie

2017-04-12 Waking Up Wednesday Wondering Why

I’m so glad Tuesday is over. I’m so glad it’s Wednesday now and I’m waking up and get the chance to start over. Even more than that, I’m glad I had 7 hours of uninterrupted sleep. It was dream-filled sleep, but I’ll take that any night over waking up at 2 or 3 or 4 and laying awake for hours.

I did go back and re-read what I wrote last night when I was so tired and almost not able to keep my eyes open. Aside from the grammar and spelling mistakes, it actually made sense. I’m quite surprised.

And as fate would have it, just as I turned my light out I got a phone call from my ex boyfriend just to chat. So here’s an interesting situation now. I spent months in agony alone not understanding the state of things and grieving over being over and having almost no contact at all. I went through all the stages, you know, denial, anger, regret, bargaining, and finally, finally on February 22nd when I got my ring back, I felt I had reached acceptance. I was ready to be OK with the whole thing.

A month later, I’m in a pretty good place with it and I get bombed with info. If you’re following along that was the week with the Ides of March. Not only did I find out he was dating someone, or had dated someone else but he also reached out to me expressing sadness and regret. The first inkling of emotion I had seen in such a very long time, and I was not prepared with how that would affect me. I kept my replies upbeat, and surface level. I did not want to dive into the deep with all of that. It was the right thing to do.

Since then, I’ve had random text from him about weekly on one subject or another. Also surface level. Stuff like the weather and some wine he found he knew I would like, and how his family is doing. Just brief, harmless exchanges, but it really leaves me wondering “why”. Why contact me at all? Is it just to make sure I’m ok? Is it because he’s got an underlying need to feel like we can be friends? Or is there something more he is after? In any case, I’m not sure how I feel about it.

Then last night I got the phone call. He’s on a walk and feeling like talking I guess. We chatted for about an hour, again, just mostly catching up on what’s been going on, but nothing too deep. He did tell me he’s quit his job and that was pretty big news and I admitted to considering doing the same thing. Funny that we both are in the same place with our “careers”.

At about 11 I was truly done for and could not talk longer and had to let him go. I said we could do lunch or something sometime, and I was so tired, I don’t remember what he replied. I still really don’t know what to make of all of it. I feel like there are unsaid things that neither of us are prepared to discuss. Two months ago, I was ready to never have to say them, but if we continue to talk to each other, it’s probably inevitable. Who knows what the future will hold.

Like I said yesterday, I don’t have a crystal ball. I don’t know what is going to happen with that situation, or my work situation, or life in general really. I just wake up every day, hopefully after 7+ hours of sleep like today, ready for whatever may come.

Happy Hump Day,
Miss SugarCookie

2017-03-19 I Can’t Escape Myself

Lot’s of drama and surprises this week and yesterday was another day I found myself trying really hard to hold back tears. It was Saturday and I did not have my kids so I had the whole day to myself to do whatever I wanted.

I woke up shortly after 7 and did some writing, which was really all about getting the thoughts out so they are not stuck in my head. Then I made a weekend to-do list so I could be super productive. I was thinking that if I kept my mind and body occupied on other things, there would be less of an opportunity for it to wander into the abyss.

I cleaned my kitchen and did dishes.
Then I made a cherry pie.
Then I vacuumed the entire house.
Then I picked up the sleepover stuff from the spare room.
Then I did laundry.
Then I watered all my houseplants.
Then I drove to get Taco Johns for lunch.
Then I took a nap.
Then I drove to help Josh with something.
Then I planted more spring bulbs.
Then I went shopping for new tennis shoes.
Then I went to a movie (Logan).
Then I went to walk and get my steps at the gym.
Then I went to sleep.

What did I discover? That I can get a ton of stuff done in one day when I put my mind to it and also that I can’t escape thinking about .. everything.

When I’m making a pie I’m reminded that Matt used to make pies and he was very much into doing that with as very little sugar as possible, sometimes just putting fruit only in the pie and that was it. Here I was using the store bought can of cherry pie filling which is loaded with high-fructose-corn syrup. And then I wondered why he had not responded to my reply to his email on Thursday.

When I’m vacuuming the house I can’t help but notice the things that are still here. Yes, I gave him back his clothes and books and random other things, but there were gifts he gave me. The chair that is my writing desk, my keyboard, a gaming chair in the basement, a keyboard in Coopers room, a CD we got at a concert he had signed by the band for me. So many reminders.

When I’m outside planting bulbs, I’m thinking that if this was our house, I would be doing this for us and he would value that and be impressed with my motivation to do it. He would also want to help, and I would not want that because I like to garden alone. It was always a point of friction.

When I’m shopping for shoes I’m questioning if I really need new tennis shoes. Don’t I have enough already? Am I only doing it because I’m trying to glean some satisfaction by buying things which can never fill the void of what I’ve lost? He would look down upon that. We were very much moving toward a minimalist lifestyle.

And when I was sitting all alone at the movie, as action packed as it was, my mind can’t help but connect the dots between Logan’s struggle to understand the purpose in life and that it’s about the people and experiences and letting go of hating it and being angry and shutting it all out to try and save yourself from pain. It was dark and there were emotional parts where I knew I would be safe from judgement and so I let the tears come.

Matt texted and emailed on Thursday and has not acknowledged my replies yet. He admitted to being sad, and I tried to send back a positive message, and 3 days and no reply. My mind wanders to a place where his is really not OK. Is he going through what I was going through last fall and the start of winter? I would not wish that on any other human being. I want to call to make sure he’s ok because I still love him and I still care, but I know it’s not my place anymore.

That’s tough and life is not fair. I’m struggling once again with not getting enough sleep. I have to try to take care of myself. For a while I think I am getting better and then I have a week like this week and I am reminded that there is no cut-and-dried end to a story. It does not matter if I got my ring back, I still have to face that after 5 years, what I thought was my future is no longer my future and both of us are suffering because of that. I can’t escape it, so I just have to figure out how to deal with it.

Sleep is a necessity and I have to fix that. I woke up at 4:22 AM and it is 5:14 now. I want to try and get a few more hours. I just hope I can shut my brain off.

Not Ready for Sunday Yet,
Miss SugarCookie

2017-03-17 Bombs Away

Oh holy hell where do I begin? I’ve been on the verge of tears all week and had one thing after another pushing me right up to that edge. I don’t think I’ve cried this much since the first week in January. I guess when it rains it pours and some of these things were probably inevitable but does everything need to come piling on top of me in the same week?

Bomb #1:
Tuesday I went to dinner with a friend I have not really talked to in a long time. We ran into each other at a story telling event several weeks ago and after that he texted me and suggested that we meet up for dinner. A few more weeks went by and then the timing was much better. He recently (like this week) started a new job and happened to mention to me that at his old job he worked with a girl named Lindsey.

When the subject of Matt came up, he told me he heard from her that I broke up with Matt in an email. Now I can count on one hand the number of people I know who know that, so i was immediately curious as to how this person I’ve never met knows that. Then he says, “She dated Matt”. Say what?!!

I wanted more details which he just did not have. No idea of when it started, or clarification on what “dating” meant, or if they went out a couple of times or are still seeing each other. Just that one statement. Except, oh, he told her we (him and I) used to date. That’s a whole other Miss SugarCookie story, and it did happen after my divorce and before meeting Matt. In the moment though, it made me feel like it paints a picture of me just wandering around town dating different developers. I’ve legit dated like 3 people my entire life, if you can count what him and I were doing dating and I don’t know why it would bug me to have him say that to her, but it did. Probably  because I freaking care too much about what people think of me.

More to that.. if all Lindsey had to say about it was that “I broke up with Matt in an email”, then that means that’s what he told her about it. And again, I’m not that person..I’m an in-person sort of person. It was a really long year and it is true that the third time I called it quits was via email but not knowing the whole backstory and taking that one bit of information out of context makes me feel like dog doo-doo.

I get why he might have done that. Dating someone new, you want to keep the story simple and not divulge too much. If you really like the person, you don’t want to scare them away. If he is still seeing her and intends to keep seeing her, I would hope that at some point she would get more of the story. Or perhaps that’s selfish on my part and not entirely necessary. It’s just another thing I have to figure out how to deal with. Just lovely.

Even if I can somehow set aside wondering what people think of me it does not change the actual new news. I can’t help but wonder what the timing was of when he started seeing her. September is when I really tried to convince him to come back to me. October I was desperate and in denial. November I was just heartbroken and sad and by December, I was very much an angry person and wanted to put my palm up to the holidays and say “talk to the hand”. Through all of it though, I had slivers of hope I was clinging to. A text, an email, a 45 minute phone call that just felt so right. Yes, I had to go to Mexico alone and that sucked but he said he needed time and space and by December I was finally accepting that is what I had to do. But I never dreamed time and space meant start dating other people.

I knew it was always a possibility. In the fall, it was my biggest fear. He’s a good guy with a lot going for him and is more social and does more networking so it was only a matter of time before he would meet someone. The thought of it made me physically sick to my stomach. He was always My Matt. He’s not allowed to be someone else’s Matt – it just seemed so unfair. Later, I had dismissed that notion because either it was too painful and I was trying to protect myself or because I had been given breadcrumbs of hope along the way that led me to believe there was a possibility we could still find our way back to each other.

I also understand why he didn’t say anything to me about it, because he would never want to hurt my feelings. At the same time, if I had known he was just moving on, then it may have made my grieving process a lot different. Maybe more like “ripping the band aid off” and less of a cycle of denying the wound exists, and being angry about it, and regretting the injury ever happened sort of situation. I’ll never really know. It’s all just out of my control.

What is in my control, however, is to make sure I take the opportunity to set the record straight, even if it was only for one person. That is what I did with my friend at dinner when he came out with the info he had. I didn’t hesitate to tell him the backstory from my perspective. It’s not a secret after all. My life is an open book for anyone who might ask me. Just ask me. Like I said, I hate it when things are taken out of context. Maybe Matt did tell her more and that was all she was willing to say to other people. I can’t know that either. And it is really none of my business. I just have to figure out how to let it all go.

Anyway, this bomb was dropped on Tuesday, so when Wednesday arrived, it was on my mind constantly. I eluded to the fact that I had several meet ups that day with friends, so I had people to talk to about it, but that did not keep me from crying in my car driving to and fro and holding back tears sitting at my desk trying to do work. Just rotten.

And that is just the first bomb of the week. I’ve already gone on too long so the rest will have to wait another day. It’s already super late and not technically even the 17th anymore. I need to get to sleep.

For my Irish and Irish-ish friends out there.. Slainte!!
Miss SugarCookie