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Moonlight Madness

A new day.
Both my boys are home sick today from school. But I'm still at work. They stay with the ex and his wife when they are sick. I wish they didn't. I am grateful that I don't have to call off work when they are sick. But it really sucks to have my babies cared for and nurtured by that woman. She's part of the reason that Ex and I are not together anymore.

I spent so much of my time in that marriage feeling alone and unloved. We had the kids and through all my depression issues and other things I never felt supported or cared about. I wasn't allowed to do things I wanted to do. We never saw my side of the family. And I mean never. I think I can count on one hand the number of times we ever did anything with them. Ex was only concerned with seeing his family and that was it. I felt so isolated. It's not like I had much of a family anyways, but even seeing my mom was rare. I don't think that he really took me into consideration at all. But as I am a go-with-the-flow person, I just allowed it to happen. And it sucked.
Being trapped in a lifeless marriage was so empty. I did enjoy his family though so I made the best of it that I could. Ex has Asperger's. He has never been officially diagnosed, but when we took my son for his autism testing, we basically found out then that Ex has all the signs and symptoms of it. It all made sense then. Why couldn't he love me? Why couldn't he be considerate? Or contribute around the house? Because of the Asperger's.

Nope. Wrong.

My Daddy died in 2010. And after that, I pretty much took to grieving by drinking. That's when I started smoking cigarettes too. At 26 years old, it's pretty late. I started partying more and going out more and spending more time with friends. And so I found that I got a lot of male attention. I started waking up from my depression and my isolation and realizing there was a whole world outside of the way I had been living. I started getting drunk and making out with strangers. And then one night I went out with a coworker who I really had a thing for. We slept together. I knew then that my marriage was over.
For being a person who believes so strongly in doing the right thing, I was absolutely, positively doing the WRONG thing. And I knew it. And I lied for a long time to cover it up. Of course, Ex finally found out.
This is actually really hard to write about, so bear with me.

Ex found out. And we were fighting all the time anyways. I just stopped trying. And when I stopped trying to be his wife, our marriage fell apart completely. I have to say that it takes two people to make a marriage work. But our relationship was not working already. I think when I stopped trying, it simply ceased to exist because he wasn't trying either and hadn't been for pretty much the entirety of it.

So, this guy that I started seeing. Turns out he was a major narcissist. All the classic signs: gaslighting, manipulation, lies, etc. He was also an extreme alcoholic. And by extreme, I mean like drunk by 10am and stayed that way for the day. Straight vodka all day every day. He paid attention to me. He "loved" me. But he really didn't. I know that now. But whatever mental capacity I did have for sanity before him, it was completely destroyed after him. He played on every insecurity that I had. And his girlfriend helped. And then she turned around and was angry at me (though she had participated in a good deal of our...interactions). So these people I thought were saving me from a lifeless marriage...they were really helping me destroy myself.
And then, after all that, he married his woman thereby breaking all his promises to be with me and so forth.

Now I had no marriage, no friends (because I had to lie to all of them), no job (I had to quit my job at the Ex's family company to find another job because I knew we were at the end. And then I got fired from the job I found)...

Enter...the other woman. The wife now. She just traipsed in all unassuming. She'd been living overseas and I found out later that Ex and she had been talking online for a very long time. I can't tell you how long. But it was long. And she came in and started spending all this time with him. At first, I was okay with it. I thought it could even work out because I was so busy destroying everything I loved (I felt like I was drowning and pulling everything down with me). But then I really saw her intentions. And Ex's. And I started realizing that maybe I didn't want to drown. Maybe I wanted to save that life still, as awful as it had been.
I quit seeing the narcissist and his woman. I quit going out. I started working to save whatever I could of my life.
But SHE wouldn't go away. It was too late. And she would cry if I tried to fight against her. And I don't mean physically fight.
Her friend called me one day to b*tch me out saying that I was mean and to leave her friend alone because she was crying. Uh, hello? She is trying to steal my husband away!
As much as I destroyed it and hurt him and cheated myself, it still didn't make what she did right. She played the victim and she played it very very well.
I did everything I could to save my mess at that point. But it wasn't enough.
And so in August of that year, we separated.

I went back to my binge drinking. I found a few part-time jobs to pay the bills. And I just existed. Partied and found guys and clung to them until they all ghosted me. And my insecurities and broken mind drove me crazy. I slept around and got an STD. I got drugged one night, but somehow my friends happen to be where I was and kept me safe while I was blacked out. I was coerced into sex (which some people tell me was rape because I definitively said no about 1000 times before I just gave in). I was touched by someone (a story for another day). I had no money, even working 3 jobs. I scraped by, paying bills when I could. I was always getting shut-off notices. I got a repo notice on my car. It was so hard!
It was a very dark time in my life (among many). Somehow though, by the grace of God, I got through it.
And it was during this time that I met DH.
 
And another day passes. Since both boys were sick, they stayed with the Ex. I don't like that plan, but then they can sleep in in the morning and not worry about getting up and going back to their dad's house anyways. But I still don't like it. I don't want the Ex thinking he is going to take me to court for custody or to change his child support amount (he pays the minimum anyways).
But that's another story.

The holiday weekend is coming up. There is no beer in the house. None at all. I am really surprised. I think this is the first week that DH got his paycheck and didn't pick any up. I don't even know really what to think about that. But we are going away for the weekend, and I'm sure he will pick some up.
We don't exactly have a plan of where we are staying for the weekend. Just where we are going. Might get a motel room. We are for sure bringing a tent, just in case. Going to spend the weekend fishing and seeing DH's friends. They live about an hour or so away from us. A couple years ago their town was torn up by a tornado. DH went to volunteer (with his F Buddy at the time. It was her idea). But he made friends with these lovely people. There are a lot of great people. We've gone and volunteered a few times over the last couple years. Helped out and whatnot. But I don't really feel like I belong there. And it makes me a bit edgy being there because he got with that woman like 2 weeks after breaking up with me. Just adds to the trauma. I try to enjoy my time with him there because it is so very important to him. I think he would live up there if he could. But he stays with the boys and I, and he would be very far from his kids. I just don't want to be triggered again. Need to keep calm and just enjoy the time as best I can for him. This is the place that helped him find himself. The place that helped him find God again. So all I can do is hope that he will really start to perk up being there.

He's been doing better. His system is getting cleaner and I can tell because he becomes more loving and considerate and all that. There are pros and cons to self-medication. But honestly, for my DH, his actions are just better without. I wish he could see that.

So, I'm really excited to go away for the weekend but apprehensive at the same time. I'll have to check in when we get back and write about how it went.

Still want to talk more about my dads, but that will have to keep waiting yet. Maybe tomorrow.
 
So, I want to talk about something. I've been reading other posts on the forums and some of them include rape.
I don't think I told the story of my "rape". I put it in quotes because I don't believe it was rape. But I've been told it was. And I also think it was a very f*cked up scenario. I would like some input on it because I don't know how to feel about it. It bothers me sometimes. And I think for all the times I have had cheap sex or been used for sex or whatever you want to call it, I feel sometimes that the only thing I'm good for is having sex. This has changed a lot with DH, but not before then.
Anyways, here is the memory (cuz it's bugging me now):

After the Ex and I split up, I started working at a bar. I was a cocktail waitress and I survived that way working the nights that my kids were with their dad. One night, I was done at work early. I got to sit and mingle with customers and friends. I met a guy. We talked and exchanged numbers. He took me on a date for a smoothie and a trip to the mall. After that, I had him over and we slept together. This was typical behavior for me at the time. Meet, go out, hook up, hook up a few more times and then whatever.
After we had sex (I can only remember one time), he disappeared. Ghosted me. This was behavior I was also very accustomed to. I was annoyed and texted him so. I didn't hear from him again.

A month or so later, he shows up at my work. He didn't seem drunk (though I think he was now looking back). He invited me to his house (about a block away) and asked that I come see him so we could talk. I was okay with that. Didn't think there would be danger.
I finished work very late. I usually got off at 3am. I went to his house. He was definitely drunk. He was drinking some weird root beer liquor sh*t. We sat on the couch and talked. He wanted to cuddle. I was okay with that. We talked and he apologized for disappearing. He regretted it and said he had gotten scared. Then he started trying to put the moves on me. I told him no, that I was there to talk. Then he started begging to get in bed with me. He wouldn't stop begging. We started arguing about it. I told him I didn't want to have sex and that I was only there to talk. I didn't even want to cuddle. I was just there to talk. He got more pushy. Started coming up with any reason excuse until finally he started just outright begging like a child (with the tone of "Please Mommy? Please? Please? Please?). It was pathetic. I couldn't argue anymore. I was tired of it. But I didn't leave. I went and had sex with him. I didn't want to.
He stopped in the middle of it. He got up and went and threw up everywhere. I mean he covered the bathroom with vomit floor to ceiling. I tried to leave. I made it to the door. He came back. He started arguing with me again. Begging again not to leave.
I couldn't leave. I have no clue why. I wanted to leave. But I couldn't walk out the door that was about a foot behind me.
I went back to the bed with him. He had anal sex with me. I hated it. It hurt and I felt horrible and angry and used. And ashamed. Why did I let him do that? I was in my late 20's for heaven's sake!
When he was done, he passed out immediately.
I left.

He contacted me again a few weeks later. I went back again to talk. I shouldn't have, but I did. This time was different. He was drunk again. But I said no. And I was resolved. He begged again. I wouldn't let him touch me or come near me. I told him no again and again. I started to really get angry. I started yelling at him. He mocked me for yelling. And then I stood up and grabbed my purse and I left. He had tried to be apologetic, but he was full of sh*t. He just wanted to use me again.

I told a few people what had happened. The first people I told said it was pity sex. That I had felt bad and gave it to him and that's what pity sex is. I didn't talk about it for a long time. I was ashamed. I still don't like talking about it. I feel it was non-consensual because I didn't want to and I said no a million times and finally gave in and gave him what he wanted. I felt dirty. I still do.
I ran into him one more time after that. It was at my job, but I wasn't working. I was out with my sister and some friends. We went outside for a smoke. He was outside. He came over to say hi. I was pretty tipsy. I introduced him to my sister. Then I announced how I f*cked him one time and it wasn't really all that good. He was so embarrassed. He completely bailed.
I felt like I got a little bit of justice.

So that is what happened. But, what was it? Rape? It's hardly the type of rape most girls have with danger and force. I don't feel like I was forced or that my life was in danger. I even repeated the scenario and played it out successfully leaving like I should have done the first time. But I still feel like it was wrong. I should not have gone along with any of it. And it really confirms in my mind that what I'm good for, what I'm best at, what I'm worth is sex. I have thought this for a very, very long time. It goes back to the Ex. I will talk about that another day.
This is the only time I feel that it might be close to rape. And I have a hard time accepting that it was anything other than a stupid mistake I made. I've slept with...idk maybe 25 guys? Some for money. Some because I felt like it. This is the only guy where I definitely didn't want it and did it anyways.
It's one of those experiences that I don't like discussing either. I remember too much of it too clearly and it's still segmented. And I wasn't under the influence at all. I just don't know how to feel about it other than gross.

For all that I try to be good, I feel like I've done some really bad things. And this is one of them. Prostituting myself is another (though that is a story for another day and one I did because I needed money to feed my kids and didn't know what else to do). Cheating is another (and the lying that went with it).
Ugh, I need to stop writing. I feel like a very bad little girl. And I'm at work. And that is not a good combo. So I'm going to try to focus on my job now and come back to this later.
 
I am not good right now. I should be more careful about when I write about things. I set myself up to be vulnerable. Then DH went out and bought beer tonight. And he invited his pot-head, alcoholic friend to come on our trip for the weekend. I don't feel safe at all. Everything is very scary. I am very, very afraid. I don't want to go on this trip. I don't want to go downstairs by DH. I don't feel safe. He isn't drunk, but I don't feel safe at all. I'm so scared. I hate this. I feel so sick. I feel like I've had a constant panic attack for the last 4 hours. I want to go home, but I am home. I hate this. I really hate this. I'm not normal. I'm a f*cked up piece of crap. I have to choose my husband's wants or my needs. That's not fair. They should be the same thing. I really hate this. I'm trapped and I can't get out. I want to go home and be safe. I don't want it to hurt like this. It hurts so much. I feel like an alien is going to rip through my body or that I will fall apart into a million pieces. Why do I have to have this stupid PTSD thing? Why can't I be normal? I feel like crying but I'm scared to cry.
I try so hard to be good.
I'm typing to try to get the fear out. I need to do my homework. I can't focus very well. I still have so much to do and it needs to get done before we go. I don't want to go. I don't want to!!!
It's not fair. It's so f*cking not fair.
I need someone safe. My phone is almost dead. I can't call anyone. I just want someone safe to hold me. But my skin feels so tense that I don't want to be touched. I hate the bad days. I HATE THEM!!
I try to be good. I try to be good all the time. I want to be good. I want to be safe. I don't want to be hurt. It's not fair. I made bad choices. People hurt me. I let people hurt me. I shouldn't do that. But I'm scared. I don't want to fight. I just want to be good.
I don't know what else to do except type. I don't have anywhere to go. I'm sorry for coming here. I don't have anywhere to go. Home should be safe. But it's not. That's not fair. It's wrong.
 
Albatross, we talked about it because that is exactly what I thought. I just won't go. He was really put out. He's still mad about it this morning. I also tried coming up with strategies like driving separately (allowing myself that space to leave and not being trapped there). He was just as mad about it.
I said that I don't think it's healthy for me to be in an environment of heavy drinking and marijuana use. He said that's just what his friend likes to do, that he's going through stuff. I said that may be the case and I don't have a problem with his friend. But I don't think it's good for me. He said that he (himself not the friend) has been doing much better with his drinking. I said that I noticed and was very glad about it, but I did not want a repeat of Easter. He said he didn't either. He said that he was planning on drinking and smoking this weekend anyways. I said yes, but alone he does it in moderation. He said just because he is with friends doesn't mean it won't be in moderation. I said maybe, but maybe he can't control it.
He said nothing after that. A small part of me was satisfied that I got my point across, but the rest of me was scared for making him upset.
We talked again later in bed. He thought I was mad at him. I told him no. I wasn't upset with him. I was in extreme pain and feeling scared. He just doesn't understand how that works. I don't think he wants to.
My T says he has PTSD too, but if that's really the case, then it manifests in a completely different way.
I tried to explain everything to him last night in bed, about how it feels and about how I react the way I do and I honestly can't help it. He fell asleep.
We didn't really talk this morning. I am not even going to bring it up. I have work to do today and homework, and we have a concert tonight that I bought tickets for. Definitely anxious about that. I am thinking I will pack some things that might help me cope for the weekend. Even if the friend doesn't go, I'm still edgy and probably will be.
Books, my essential oils, my stuffed duck Chickie, my laptop for music, headphones. We will be camping on a friend's farm property. So I doubt there will be internet or cell service.
Thanks for the advice, Albatross. At least we were able to talk calmly, despite both being upset. I think that's a real improvement for us!
 
Well, here's what happened. His friend didn't go. But it didn't matter. Friday night we went to the concert. Started fighting. He started drinking and set me off. I started drinking because I'm at a f*cking concert and that's not the time to start freaking out. So I was doing shots. Then he got even more mad and started drinking even heavier.
We left the show. Went home. He smoked. I went for a drive (safely). Came home, he was all f*cked up. We fought. He passed out. Got up in the morning and fought more.
What difference did it make that his friend didn't go? Absolutely none. Because he still got messed up and we still fought.

Honestly, I feel like crap. We had a nice, peaceful, hardworking weekend away. But he's just being so selfish. So incredibly selfish.
We have a frog now. I don't want a frog. Never have wanted one, really. We've talked about getting pets before, but we can never agree on one. Well, he decided to bring home a frog from where we are staying. I don't know how much the thing weighs. Feels like 10 pounds. It's a huge bullfrog. So he made a makeshift tank for it. It doesn't seem to be eating or really doing anything. I feel bad for it. Like it's in prison or something. But the real problem is that he didn't ask me. Didn't even get my opinion. Just decided he wanted it and so we took it home.

Lots of talking is going to need to happen. At least my anxiety seems to have calmed down again. But I'm so depressed. I strongly think it's from drinking, especially after not having drank really at all. I have a lot of emotions about the whole thing. Anger is a big one. Grief/sadness is another.
I still love him. I'm going to have to accept a lot of things about him. But I don't want to compromise so much of myself that I lose my identity to him. Time for more self-care. I've gotten lax with that. Need to make time for myself again.
 
Bad news. Because with all my other stress, I need more.

Back story:
My oldest son has autism. He was diagnosed at the age of 3 when my younger son was an infant. It was around this time that we found out that my Ex had Asperger's (which I posted about). Well, older son F went to a public school for a couple years in their special ed program. He's actually really high-functioning. Verbal, toilet-trained, communicative, etc.
He's a very happy kid.
Well, we decided that he was high-functioning enough for mainstream school. We put him in a private Christian school where he stayed for about 4 years. There were behavioral issues from the start, but some teachers were more patient than others. And he still had an IEP through the state where they would come and do assessments and work with him, etc.
Well, after 4 years, they decided they were tired of dealing with him and would not reenroll him. The ex's family stepped up and offered to fund a program to allow high-functioning kids to remain at that school. The school denied it.
Now, all this triggered my memories of being bullied and rejected from when I was young. I went to a private Christian school and the teachers and kids were horrible. I did not want to send either of my kids to one, but the ex pretty much insisted on it.

So, about this time, the ex and I had already split. We decided to look into other options. I found a private school across state lines that was a Christian school for special needs kids. I also found a couple public programs in that area as well. This was about when my current DH and I decided to move in together. (I also changed jobs at this time. It was insanity).
Long story short, I was able to get him into that school and my son into the sister mainstream school. So they both can have a really good education. I don't love my younger son (S)'s school. But S really loves it and the principal there is pretty great. Some of the kids are still little sh*ts. But that's life.

So in all the turmoil, my kids have been able to have stability going to these 2 schools.
But they're private schools, not public. So guess who is responsible for the bill? Yep. Me.
The Ex and the other woman do nothing to pay for it. They live a very nice life with new cars and a house (my old house) and a yard and a cat and all the latest and greatest technology and games and whatnot. They take trips. They go to the family lake house (both their families have a lake house). They basically do whatever they want whenever they want.
Me? Not so much. We live in a run down rental house and share a yard with my neighbor (also landlord and one of our best friends). We don't take vacations. My car has about 120K on it and needs work. DH's truck about 140K and needs a LOT of work. It's a piece of sh*t rust bucket. The nicest thing I own is my TV. Because DH bought it years ago and left it when he moved and bought himself a new one instead. Etc. Etc. Etc.
What did we do for the weekend? We camped on a farm and helped build a barn. No bathroom. No shower. No electricity. Nothing. Real roughing it.
What did they do? Went to their lake house and played video games.
So, ok, you see the contrast here.
So, I reached out to family and my church (by my family, I mean my ex-father-in-law, who I still haven't posted about). They were both willing. The FIL is giving me X amount and the church said that they would cover the whole thing.

Fast forward. Yesterday was the last day of school and I get a call from the finance department. I still have a balance. So I call the other school. Same deal. There's a balance.
So I call the church. Turns out that NO they AREN'T covering the whole amount. So now, I have to come up with 4 grand to cover this.
Well, by God's grace, I happen to have about that much in my savings account. But that money is savings. It's supposed to go towards our wedding this fall and to be for emergencies. I know we are married, but we planned to have a real wedding, not just a courthouse one. It was going to be very small. Like 25 people total, including vendors. Paying for it all myself.
But now, there will not be a wedding. Everything I have done so far for it will have to be cancelled. I don't want to do this.
But DH and I talked about it last night. I told him that this is what we have to work with. And he said, let's do it. And then he said that he's going to ask me to marry him every day from now until the day we can finally have our ceremony. And so he got down on one knee and asked me.
I think that is the sweetest, most romantic thing he's done in a long time. It was sweeter than his actual original proposal. It just meant so much. It's reasons like this that I married him. When he actually tries, he is pretty much the greatest guy I've ever met. It's when he's not trying that he turns into the a**hole.
So that's my bad news. Someone, somewhere messed up and now I'm cancelling my wedding. Or postponing it for the time being.
 
Well...after reviewing a thread on a different board, I am second-guessing my diagnosis. My T is indeed a trauma specialist. She's the one that diagnosed me in the first place. And when she did, everything made sense and lined up. Why am I terrified when a song comes on? Why am I terrified of smells or the breeze? Why do I want to run when I feel trapped at home? Why do I have illogical responses to common, everyday things? PTSD.

Has my life ever once been in danger? Not that I can recall. I don't remember being physically threatened. Even my non-consensual sex experience that I posted about (still don't think it's real rape, even though people say so), my life was not in danger.
Can I say that DH verbally abused me before our break up? Absolutely. Not only did he yell and scream, he made sure to say the most mean things he possibly could. Did he have rough, angry, hurtful sex with me before the breakup? Absolutely. Multiple times. Once that really stands out in my head and I try not to think about it as much as possible. But would he have killed me? Nope.
I don't believe I have ever been in a situation where someone threatened to kill me.
I've had plenty of verbal abuse. I had a dad who wasn't around. Both my parents told me they were really happy when I turned 18 so they wouldn't have to take care of me anymore. Constant daily teasing at school about my clothes, my hair, etc. Always picked last. No one would talk to me. When your family doesn't want you and your peers don't want you and even the teachers don't really want you, then really you're left to your own devices. And that's how it's always been.
I was raised by a Christian mother. She has a kind heart. But she is close-minded. Going through the divorce for her, she had a hard time coping. I became an emotional support for her. She never beat me that I can remember. I always tried to be good. I did my homework. I was an A student. No danger. But she was very emotionally distant, especially as I got into my teens. She had no compassion anymore.
My dad lived in the gay community. Coming out must have been hard for him. But he was happy. He took care of me. We had lots of fun. I don't think I really ever talked to him about my problems though. I just kept being a good little girl.
I don't know how much I told either parent about the kids at school. I think I kind of remember telling my mom. She dismissed it and just told me to tell them to go f*ck themselves. And yes she used those words. That's all I remember.
I married my high school sweetheart. I spent many years alone. Doing it all on my own while he ignored me and did nothing. A thankless marriage.
Got involved with the narcissist. Finally found love. But it wasn't. That left me really f*cked up. Didn't know what was right or wrong or real. My first experience with gas lighting.
After the divorce, I met a host of guys. Slept with most of them. Probably put myself in dangerous situations. Definitely could have been raped or murdered, but somehow I didn't. Only got 1 STD and it was curable.
Met DH. We moved in together after a few months. But I was having a terrible time. I was afraid of everything by this point. Afraid of him cheating. Afraid of him drinking. Afraid of him getting angry. He's very terrifying when he's mad. I've never seen anything like it. I always try not to make him mad. We broke up after fighting a lot. He said he didn't love me anymore. He was over it.
He said a lot of hurtful things. He did a lot to hurt me. He found some other girl and started banging her right off the bat. And got drunk every day. I had to unfriend him on Facebook because I didn't feel safe. I was scared to go outside to smoke at night. I was afraid he would find me and rape me (totally irrational). I was afraid when people called that it was really him using their phone to get to me. This went on for several months. I didn't feel safe. I was scared. Anxious all the time. Couldn't eat. Sometimes couldn't sleep. I drank a lot, but it didn't help. I dated other guys. It didn't help.

One day he sent me a message. He wanted me to get the last of my stuff. Specifically it was a bag of love notes I had given him. He was going to burn them.
I had to choose whether or not I could stand the loss of these notes or face my fear of seeing him.
I went to see him. I cried. I shook. When I got to the house, I went inside to get the notes and go. They weren't there. He had put me in a spot where we had to talk. I was terrified. When he came in the house, he didn't yell at me. He hugged me. And that was the start of how things got better.

Why do I have this diagnosis of PTSD? I don't know. I cannot remember a time in my life where I was in real, true, life-threatening danger. There have been many times where I did not feel love, where I felt abandoned and alone, where I wanted to die, where I felt violated, where I felt broken or ashamed. I go through cycles where I feel that everything is my fault. And then I get angry because it's unfair that everything is my fault. But if PTSD is based solely on having events in your life that put you in danger, then it isn't possible for me to have it. So instead I have only the appearance of it, the symptoms of it, the brokenness of it, the f*cked up parts of it, the aftermath without a cause.
I really don't belong here. I don't know if I should even stay anymore. Maybe I'll stay so I can keep my journal. But I don't see how I can be an asset.

DH got high yesterday and it set me off. But that's not PTSD. That's just me being f*cked up. I really, really, really don't fit anywhere. I'm like the piece to a puzzle that has long been thrown out. I keep putting myself in boxes hoping that I'll fit into the puzzle. But I don't. The puzzle comes together and there I sit, still in the box. I wonder if it will always just be like this. It has for my entire life. 32 years of not fitting in somewhere. Not belonging to anything. Even DH. I love him like crazy (cuz I am), but I don't fit in right into his world of drinking and partying. I wonder when that puzzle is all done what will happen to me.

I may be a loving, kind, sweet, caring, etc. etc. person. But in reality, I'm just a band-aid for people, a chapter in their book, a temporary playmate. There is nothing stable in my life. No one is safe. Nowhere is safe. Just keep putting one foot in front of the other. Some day, I hope to be in Heaven. God still loves me. But I wonder, when I get there, will I belong? Or am I eternally damned to be the black sheep? Maybe in Heaven, God will give me my own room where I can sit and watch the sun every day, sing songs and play. At least I know it won't hurt anymore. I'll be out of this pain forever.
 
I have never fit in anywhere either so I know how that feels. I hope for the day when you will see how unique and special you are and no longer care about fitting in if I read you right. If not please toss.
 
It's been interesting. I saw T over the weekend. She and I sat down with the DSM-5 and went over the specifics of the definition and characteristics. She really put my mind at ease. We also talked about the "rape" scenario. Again she really put my mind to rest about it. She has a way of talking, and we really covered a lot of ground. It's so helpful to have her in my life to work through these things that I get stuck on.

Tomorrow is my day off work. I'm nervous to be away. It seems that it might be too busy for my assistant for me to be away for the day. I have to go to the DMV and the Social Security office to change my name. I also have to go take care of the school things with the tuition. I don't want to. But it has to get done.

I'm really looking forward to getting out of work today. It's been hectic!! This warm weather makes everyone call like they're crazy. People all seem to NEED air conditioning. I still don't have any. We have a couple little units, a window one and a portable one. We will set them up for the kids when it gets really bad. But for now, I don't really see any issues. I grew up without a/c. We had a window unit that we would put in and then all camp in the living room. I spent summers at the library, checking out all sorts of books. Then I'd take them home and stay up late reading on the floor with my blanket and pillow. My favorite books were the Nancy Drew books. I've read all the originals at least once. Some many times. I own a bunch, but never have time to read them. My mom and I even started our own Nancy Drew book. It was so much fun!
Nowadays, I'm too busy to write more than this journal. I'd like to finish my Nancy Drew book. And I'd like to take my mama to Europe. Those are my two dreams for her before she passes away. She's getting awfully close to 70 now though. I worry I won't be able to do those things with her.

DH is being kind again. Still drinking and smoking, but not every day. And he's not being an A**hole at all. Which is a HUGE relief. He seems much happier working every day. It seems to motivate him around the house. We had a great weekend with the kids. We had a fire and a dance party Friday. We did a bunch of moving and stuffs Saturday and grilled out. And Sunday we went fishing (caught nothing) and had a water balloon fight. It was really wonderful. Our kids are all growing up quickly. We have 5 total. F and S live with us. M, B, and D live with their mom. She lives far away and always tries to come up with reasons why DH should not have them. It's a long story full of BS. But we will always keep fighting to have them. Our oldest two are both 12. We only have a few more years with them. :( I hope after M is grown that she will come visit more or come live with us. She's already having issues with her mother and found that her mother lies (pathologically, though M doesn't know that yet). I would like if she would stay with us in a few years. DH deserves at least that much after everything that he's been put through by his ex.

I must go. I have a lot of work still to do, but I wanted to check in. It's been a few days, and I've been really busy!
 
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