BLOGGER TEMPLATES AND TWITTER BACKGROUNDS

10.08.2008

Hard To Read, Hard to Write

I've actually been kind of dreading writing this post. But I know I need to, because I need to get it off my chest. It's been haunting me, and it's something that I talk myself through in the shower, and on my way to work once I've dropped off The Smoodge, and pretty much any time during the day that I'm not able to occupy my thoughts with something else. I'm hoping that by writing all this jumbly mess in my head down, I'll stop being so afraid. Deep breath..here we go...

There's a blog that I love to read, and yet every time I go to click on it, I hesitate. Sometimes to the point that I don't actually click on it. Sometimes when I click on it, and it takes more than 2 seconds to load, I'll take that as an excuse not to let it load and hurriedly click on the next blog in my line up (and yes, I have a blog line up. same order, every day, at the same time, not a moment before. thanks Dad, for the OCD!). I really do love reading it, but this blog, it....I guess it speaks to me in ways that I'm not ready to deal with yet, or maybe the fact that I continue to read it tells me I am ready to deal, or who knows. Maybe by blogging about this I'm hoping to find the real meaning as to why this blog scares the hell out of me, yet I'm drawn to it more than a moth to a flame...or like The Bloggess to vials of blood....or whatever other analogy/metaphor you would like to insert here.
I found this blog thanks to Jenny, The Bloggess (who in my head I am totally BFFE's with, even though she has no idea I even exist, but she did post a comment on one of my posts before, and I printed it out and framed it and now it sits next to my computer for inspiration... that's too much sharing, isn't it?) The Bloggess also posts to a blog with The Houston Chronicle called Good Mom/Bad Mom (because that's what true BFFE's do...they stalk you on ALL your blogging adventures. Blog-ventures, if you will), and because I enjoy that so much, I decided to dig around to the other blogs they have featured on there, and found one that advertised as "the struggles of a divorced mom". Now, me being one of those divorced mothers who is struggling, I thought I could relate. I thought it would be mostly about how hard things are raising a child on your own, a blog that would provide inspiration for me during dark times, funny stories of growing babies to relate to, mistakes that are commonly made and how to not make them, etc. And while it does touch on a lot of those things, she also talks about her ex (X) and the other woman (TOW).
Now, for those of you that know me, you know I can relate to both of those topics. As a divorced mother, OBVIOUSLY there's an ex. Even though sometimes I pretend The Smoodge was immaculately conceived (that sounds more like she was conceived in a clean room, which wasn't the case, as it was a hotel in Vegas, or very possibly a jacuzzi tub in Vegas, but I digress...the point is that immaculately conceived doesn't sound nearly as holy as immaculate conception....anyway). And there's an ex because there's another woman. I don't think about either of those two people. I don't like to. It hurts too much to think about the fact that the man I loved for so long and for so deeply decided I wasn't worth it any longer, and this other woman was. When I don't have to pick up and drop off The Smoodge for visitation, the only time the ex is in my thoughts is when I put him there, and it's usually because he owes me money, or is being an ass, and either way, he's there because I'm angry and I'm placing blame. I can't see him in any other light. I haven't allowed for he and I to be friends, or to talk jokingly with each other, because that just brings back all the pain of what he, and to some extent, she, forced onto me. Stolen. I had no choice in the matter. I'm not saying I was blameless, but I fought for my marriage to the very end. I clung to it, and I think that clinging is probably what dashed all hopes of a reconciliation.
But that's a whole other issue. The point is, that this blog that I love and hate all at the same time, deals with how she's dealing with having an ex and the other woman, and different scenarios she's gone through and how it felt and realizations she's had afterwards. And it's reading about those scenarios that just touch a little bit too close to home. I read her blog, and I can feel myself going through those same situations, and the emotions they bring on. I don't like to admit weakness, to a fault almost, yet when I read her blog, her heartfelt, honest portrayal of what it is she has gone through and continues to go through, I am forced to realize that I am still very, very weak when it comes to dealing with my ex. It's paralyzing almost. I feel the panic rising, and the tears welling in my eyes, and it takes me right into that place where I feel disposable and ignored and worthless.
I force myself through the blog though, and by the end of it, I feel better. And worse. I see a light at the end of a very, very long dark tunnel that has only been trekked by those of us who have suffered through it. And the light for me right now isn't that one day the ex and I will be able to have a civil relationship. It's that I'm not alone in having these feelings and paranoia's and downright fears. It's that reassurance from someone who is brave enough to openly admit what we are all thinking. That the other woman is going to replace us as mothers. That we can't just magically communicate with the ex simply because he's the father of our child and the court mandates as such. That despite the fact that we are all adults, sometimes acting like one just isn't worth it. That I'm not the only one out there that still sees marriage as a dream, and divorce as the brutal murder of that dream.
Sure, I glean other things from her blog as well. She does have the witty anecdotes and cute stories and whatnot. But those posts aren't what causes me to pause before clicking. It's the posts that force me to address the fact that regardless of how fine The Smoodge and I are by ourselves, regardless of how awesome I am as a mother (and dude, I am so awesome), she still needs her father. And despite the fact that he's a monster in my story, he's not one in hers.
And I swear to God if you ever tell him I said that, I will hunt you down and kill you. I will gladly do that time.
See? Growth.

1 comments:

Jenny, the Bloggess said...

This post made me cry. So poignant and honest and I think I'm going to have a panic attack now.

Beautifully written, my friend. You are honest and reflective and much wiser than you give yourself credit for.