Okay; I wasn't sure of how to title this so, love my attorney. Hate shit I'm going through.
I had a court date Monday for a show cause/contempt hearing. Shit didn't show up. He called the court and said he was hospitalized. My lawyer showed up with the documents of our divorce in a big box. The type ten reams of paper come in. Yes the box is too full and he may need another before this is over. I had no idea why he brought it. Until the judge and clerk looked at it while he was digging for paperwork. He wanted them to know what was going on in the case. It sure worked. I have finally been given the okay to have a hearing for the divorce. I filed in early December of 2012. I "might" have a hearing in the early fall, maybe. I want to climb out of my skin after typing that. Seperated almost 4 years now. Although I was never in R, I was in too much pain, fearful, shocked, unable to process anything to get started sooner than 2012.
I've been on Match.com for a few months. I fell heavily for a very nice man but we're both in different places of recovery and it isn't working out. I did find love again though. I wasn't sure I ever could or would, so at least I'm starting to feel alive again. I'm sad about that ending. I'm also a bit relieved because of the intensity of it. I'm still eating shit sandwiches after all. They tend to make happiness taste a bit off. I was very happy while talking with this man. Now I'm just fighting my urge to contact him. I did the breakup but I've lost a good friend.
So, after coming home from court, Shit called me to let me know he's been in the hospital for a week. Poor guy. He had surgery. Poor guy. He was so kind as to tell me all the gory details. He knows I puke if someone burps near me but indulges himself in his pity party to share every detail. Today is more procedures and more details to share with me. Poor guy. I guess Shitlicker isn't able to hold his hand while he's in there. I guess she won't be nursing him as I did while he slowly rehabbed from a near fatal accident for more than 2 years as I did. I guess she won't be wiping his ass the way I did. I guess she won't be sticking around for years after he's hurt and take the abuse because he's in pain. I wonder if she'd have taken in his dad to hospice. I wonder if she'd be a caretaker to his elderly mother as I did. I wonder if she'd take abuse from him and his two sons as I did. I really wonder....yeah, sure I do.
Okay, I'm trying to get to the point. Why did he feel the need to go into detail with me about his pain, illness, problems. Yes, they are serious health issues. Yes, he has had them and ignored the many signs I saw well before the shit sandwich landed in my lap. Why the need to unload on me? He will be calling me later to let me know how the procedure goes this morning. I can't wait to hear all the gory details. He knows that in the past I've called friends to be sure he's alive. I've seriously thought he might be dead on more than one occassion. In truth, it would be best if he died. How sad is that???!!! He was here in town earlier this month to register a car he bought from a neighbor. While I'm struggling to pay mortgages. One of our friends saw him and said she didn't know it was him until he said hello. The bartender told me yeah, a very small man was here at nine o'clock and used that mug.
When the bartender told me a very small man used his mug I started crying. Why? I had to leave and went home and cried for a while. He is not a "small" man. He's always been "the" man. Big, strong, capable. He's emaciated now. His glasses are too big for his head. I never realized you can lose so much weight in your skull/head. I realized later that I wasn't crying for him. I was crying for me. For what he was too but more for me. I'm so tired. I had a grip on happiness for a few short months. I enjoyed being happy. I really loved talking with my friend. Loved it.
So, now I'm back here. Sad, despondent, fighting the tears this moment. Why am I going through all of this? When the hell does the shit stop? I'm just waiting for Shit to call and tell me more about his sorry state. He told me he knows I worry about him so he'll call and keep me updated...??? After talking with him yesterday I had a strange feeling of being weighted down. A heaviness. I don't care. I do care. What the hell?? That was what I was thinking. What the hell??
I remember needing someone to help me when ill and NOBODY was there. NOBODY brought me soup. I could name three times I was gravely ill and he said "Well, I'll call you later to see if you need anything" as he walked out the door not to be seen or heard from for the rest of the day. What the hell is wrong with me? I don't want him to think I give a shit. I only care because he's damaging our property and finances. I only care because I want to know if he's dead! I'm sorry he's destroyed himself. I am much more sorry that he's ruined me! I am however doing my damnedest to drag my ass out of the ruins. I am only interested in my survival at this point. My survival. My heart. My goodness showing again. My love showing again.
During Easter vacation all of my babies were here. My daughter gave me a card that she wrote these words in: "Dear Mom; Thanks for everything!!! This weekend was so awesome!!! AND thanks for being a "SURVIVOR" of everything...we love you so much! I tell you this because I was elated that weekend. Absolutely sure I was okay now. I was in love, happy, thrilled with my babies and so damn proud of how I've raised them and how they've become so successful.
Now, here I am again. Feeling stuck.