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I am keeping track of all the things they don't tell you in the Divorce Memo. One of them is that taking care of yourself when you're sick sucks.

The illness I thought was started back on Monday has ended up as bronchitis and it sucks. I'm not thrilled. But I had to sleep sitting up last night and woke up this morning feeling like two trucks had hit me so off I went to the Dr., who told me it was good that I had come in. So three prescriptions later I headed home. I went back to work but couldn't make it through the whole day. The cough is killing me.

One thing my ex was really good at was taking care of me when I was sick. Sigh.

Dec. 11th, 2006

This is not my year.

And December is not my month.

It figures that this mother fuckin' year won't let me go without ripping me to shreds.

Getting divorced sucks. Going through your first holidays as a single person two months after finding out you're getting a divorce sucks even more. Thanksgiving blew. It took everything I had not to cry every 5 minutes.

So here I am getting ready for Christmas. Everyone says I should decorate. But decorate with what? My old decorations that he and I had together? Buy new ones? Just forget the whole thing? I finally decide to use just my nativities (because despite being my most favorite thing in the world he had never bought me one) and get a tree. A real tree, joining my family for our Christmas tree hunt.

We went for the trees yesterday, and I had a great time. I have all new lights and ornaments that I was going to put up tonight. In the middle of the afternoon today, I started feeling sick. Not a big deal... I get bronchitis in December all the time. But the tightness in my chest just seems to get worse. And I realize that I'm headed toward an asthma attack -- but I don't have an inhaler. It's a damn train wreck. Finally, four hours later I head to the hospital to get some medication.

Here's the kicker: it's probably the damn tree that's triggering the asthma.

I have the best fucking life.
I've survived my first day on my own. One day down, forever to go.
If I may say so, I looked beautiful that day. I wore a silver dress because I didn't want to wear white. I've always been into silver. Our rings were silver and I had found a gorgeous necklace of pearls and grey pearls on a silver chain to wear. I carried sunflowers.

The ceremony was incredible. We had touching readings, an exchange of vows that we wrote ourselves, our exchange of the $15 rings we had bought, and most importantly a handfasting. We poured ourselves into it, making it as meaningful as possible. People told us they had never seen a wedding mean so much before.

The handfasting is what is important. The end of the handfasting says that at any time one of you may drop the cords and the union is ended.

I never thought he would want to drop the cords.

Tommorrow is my 6th anniversary - or it would have been, before he decided to drop the cords.

I'm gonna go to a craft show tomorrow and out to dinner in the evening and just try to stay distracted.

Not one of my local friends has contacted me to see how I'm doing.

It became real today when I hung up the phone. I am really getting a divorce.

A week ago I wasn't getting a divorce. A week ago I had a husband who I thought loved me. He said he loved me.

Four days ago he said he didn't love me anymore. He took all his clothes, and screamed at me about how he couldn't stand living with me anymore because I was bipolar. He screamed that I came into this marriage with nothing and I was going to leave with nothing.

Then the next day he took the TV, the stereo, his dresser and our bed. And the Omaha Steaks in the freezer. And my henna.

I confronted him about the henna. He claims he didn't know he took it. Then he started yelling at me again.

He is an alcoholic and a drug addict, and it's time that I get away from that, for good.

But it's so surreal to be living one life where everything is fine and a week later your life is blown to hell. I don't get it.
I'm not grumpy anymore... that's good. I'm tired. I'm so tired that it shows on my face... I'm weary. It doesn't even really feel like a physical tiredness. I really think I'm emotionally spent. This is good in that I am recognizing it before it becomes a problem, but I am still not sure what the next step should be. I don't have a strong support system. So I don't know who to turn to for help - who to say I've reached my limit. Or what they can do to help me.

Sep. 22nd, 2006

I'm grumpy. I should be totally jumping for joy with the Equinox, everything being in balance, but I'm totally out of sorts. And that's exactly how it feels... like something is not in the right spot in my life. My sister thinks is from the handfasting I did last week, that I'm still bringing my energy back to me... and that might very well be it.

My sister and I are both psychic and something funny happened to us today. She's been having a rough week and today she got a bad headache so she decided to sleep it off. Right before she fell asleep she was reading a book. I was working and reading some help files and all of a sudden I kept hearing them in a Celtic brogue. It was the weirdest thing. Then I made a decision about changing something, and it was like I could hear all these voices say, "Aye!" It was freaking me out. So I called my sister, because she talks to ghosts and hears voices all the time, and asked her if she was hearing anything. I told her what I was hearing and she said, "You veil is down, put it back up." Hell, my veil is always down, I'm a beacon for whatever your broadcasting. Then I told her about the voices saying, "Aye!" And she said, "OH SHIT! That's my fault!" Turns out that's what was happening in her book and what she was dreaming about! Pretty cool, huh?

I love being psychic. It's always an adventure.


I hate cheaters. I hate people who take innocent fun and turn it into competition and then fucking cheat.

I hate whiners.

I hate people who can't think their way out of a paperbag.

I hate my upstairs neighbor for so many damn reasons.

And I've only been working for 36 minutes.
So tonight we had to put my cat to sleep. I'm working through it. My husband is devastated and I'm not sure how to help him. I guess just time.

We called just one friend to let them know. It has gotten to the point with our so-called friends that we don't even know if they give a rip about events like this in our lives. I hate so-called friends. The situation we're in now -- I dared to disagree with a couple of other friends, and it has deteriorated from there. Now we're in this limbo stage where I feel really uncomfortable around everyone except one couple.

But we're increasingly feeling uncomfortable around the one couple, too... they have an infant and life is all about her... which is should be, of course... but the other night at dinner they couldn't even carry on a conversation of any type. Zombies. And we're not really sure what to do with that.

So my husband just came out with a truck belt buckle. How redneck is he?



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