Loss

While nursing ,I have not been reading on my Kindle for the last few weeks and I won't for the rest of my nursing future, just enjoying the last days of D.'s nursing days.  Watching D.'s jaws working at sucking, his relaxation while nursing, and my realization that nourishing him at my breast is approaching its end makes me so sad.  When you know it's your last baby and you are directing the weaning, you cherish these moments.

Saw one of my longtime guy friends on the news and it gave me a twinge.  Still trying to process being dumped from my closest guy friends.  One dead and the other two alive but may as well be dead.  After I had I. but V. was still gone so much, they were still around.  But now that D. is here and V. is around more, they are totally gone.  Neither of them have met D. which hurts me and only one of them saw me while was pregnant with D.  If I'm being honest, I feel betrayed, left behind.  It brings up old emotions of being left here to deal with everything but I realize changes have happened, to the better of me. 

Still I have to admit, those old stirrings come up.  Was thinking of my old days when I was trying to be successful in the man's world which basically I was existing in both personally and professionally.  I was successful but that was because I shut off any female responses and was one of the guys.  Once I had children, that wasn't completely possible for me and I think that changed things.

I'm no longer sassy and sarcastic.  I can be funny and feisty but I don't have that same edge to my humor.  I was a fighter before, now I am a lover.  I don't have to pretend not to feel anymore, I don't have to deny my true feelings.  All that denial of emotions and the "I'm tough, can't knock me down" bravado had exhausted my reserves after about 7 years.  It left me bankrupt and with nothing to fall back on when the truly tough times hit.  My guy friends were there but what I didn't realize is that as soon as my bravado had truly faded away, maybe I wasn't so interesting to them anymore or maybe I just reminded them of another mom/wife which they already had.

I think I finally reached a point where I'm done.  I understand that despite that they say they will call me, let's get together for lunch, etc. it's not going to happen.  It's been a one way street for too long and frankly, I've allowed it to bruise my feelings for too long as it is.  If they were true friends this would not have happened.  If Mark was still alive, we would still be friends on equal footing.  For the first time in the past 2 years, I feel a small warmth of peace down deep and I know I'm ready to move on.

 

Today

Today is Mark's birthday which brings back memories of past birthdays. He always would take the day off from work because he didn't want hoopla about his birthday. That night he would go over to his parents' house for a homemade German dinner and a cutthroat game of Risk, his favorite game. No one else liked that game but since it was his birthday, everyone acquiesced.

I remember one year, I took the day off as well which was unusual since we usually would make sure that one of us was at work to manage the department. But one year we both took the day off and went to Balboa Park for lunch and museum. I think that was the time we went and looked at a visiting exhibit on torture - the tools, history, and mechanics. It was just the sort of weird interest we both shared. I remember it was a beautiful, relaxing day and we enjoyed it, the day, the weather, and most of all, the company of a best friend.

Today, he's not here to enjoy his day but I am to think warmly about our unique friendship and the love and respect we had for one another. If it wasn't for him and his fight with cancer, I may not have found the courage and perspective to try for another child and would not be sitting here with a 2-inch baby nestled in my womb. I wish he knew and I wish he was still here. It's true you know what they say, the pain lessens over time but it never goes away. And at certain moments, on certain days, the pain is as sharp as ever. It may not last as long or completely overshadow a day like it used to, but it's just as raw, painful, and saddening as it ever was.

Happy Birthday my friend.

A Sad First

Of course I miss Mark. And of course I've wished I could talk to him openly, totally relaxed, and honestly like we used to. But since he's died, I'm always cognizant that Mark's dead and I can't talk to him.

Yet this afternoon, after I had been by myself for a couple of hours while I. was at preschool, I thought, "Oh I'll call Mark." Because that's what I used to do when I had a moment to myself. And after he got sick, I used to check in with him briefly every Saturday evening.

And then I remembered, "I can't talk to Mark anymore."

And it made me sad, very sad because he was a friend that would never cancel plans with me, never let me down, and be there when I needed him the most. Basically the kind of friend I was to him.

No, I don't have a lot of friends and I know it's because of me. It's not that I'm unfriendly or don't like people, it's because that's who I am. I don't like to spread myself thin, I like to invest. That doesn't just hold true for friendships but relationships in general. I wasn't the girl who dated a lot of guys but the ones I did go out with I was totally invested in and usually ended up getting my heart broken as a result. That's the downside of me. The upside is that when I do make a connection, it is one that I will fight to the death for with all of my being and when it works out, it's truly a one of a kind relationship.

My friendship with Mark was one of a kind. My relationship with V. is one of a kind. With all the crap that has been endured in the past 3 years, our marriage is surprisingly fresh and strong. Some fine tuning here and there has helped bolster our confidence that we really are on the same team and injecting some fun along the way has helped us recapture the early days. We may not always take the same road but we always wind up in the same place.

A Convergence of Mark

Ok so I lied when I said I had a couple of posts coming to you because after that initial one, I just clammed up. I attribute that to a lot of things building up in my mind, clammoring for attention and it blocked everything that came to mind.

Even now, as soon as I started writing this, the sweet girl cat squatted under the kitchen table and had diarrhea which obviously necessitated me stopping and cleaning it up. It's a conspiracy of many different things - thoughts, animals, people, stresses, exhaustion that have kept me from blogging lately. Parenting since the time change haas been tough but I'm hoping that I have discovered some solutions/tools that will help navigate that. I had 2 family events to attend on back to back weekends which always exhausts my emotional energy bank though they went as drama-free as I could hope. V. has been gone the past month during the weekdays, home on the weekends. Much easier to stay on the same page but trying to get him integrated fully on the weekends as Daddy and Hubby has been hard.

Lately, Mark has been on mind again. I thought after my birthday, thoughts of Mark would calm down but not really. I've been having dreams since then as though I was still working in that stressful work situation and of course, Mark was a big part of my work life. The parts he's in aren't bad, rather he's the support, the love, the friendship part of the situation. I was on Facebook the other night and Mark's sister messaged me and we had a conversation about how we were doing, how we both missed Mark, and how we wished his parents could see his son. She said how she was glad that I was in touch with her parents because it helped them. We "talked" about how her mom wanted to know more about Mark and felt that I was the person to tell her about him and she (Mark's sister) said it would help her mom and that she would like to be there for the lunch/discussion. She ended the conversation with a comment that she and her family loved and respected me very much because of my relationship with Mark. I'm going to call his mom this week and set up that lunch.

This past week, I keep hearing songs that were playing over and over again during those last hospice days at Mark's parents' house. We picked out Mark's favorite CD's and had them on continuous play for his last 3 days and while I don't know the names of more than 3 of those songs, when they come on my radio, I am instantly transported to those 3 days. The emotions, the loss, the sadness, the tragedy, the ripping out of my soul watching my close friend slowly die.

Then this afternoon while I. was in the bath, out of the blue (I haven't talked about Mark for awhile): "Mommy, are you still sad about Mark being dead?" Who knows what made her think of that. But it was weird that I've been having dreams about Mark and interaction with his family, and then she asks about him.

It makes it hard to blog with these swirling thoughts and emotions. Many times I want to blog but by the time I get done attending to my responsibilities, I'm a blank slate both mentally and emotionally until I have a short break to recharge and usually by then, I'm physically exhausted.

Can anyone else understand this?

Perspective

Today I realized that I have one more week of my 30s and I'm not really happy about that. If I'm not happy about that, why have I said for the last 6 months, "I'm almost 40." Every time it's exited my mouth I have thought, "Why did you say that? You should have said you're 39 because soon, nothing in your life will be 30 anything?!" I don't know, I just kept doing it. So now, here I am one week left in my 30s and I'm realizing I'll never be able to say that I'm 30 something. I blame all of this age-phobia sounding diatribe on my parents who refuse to acknowledge birthdays or accept that yes, someday they ARE going to die (not to be morbid, just realistic). At the rate of their facial "treatments", I'm going to look older than them in the next 10-20 years. How's that for giving you a complex?

Then for an unexpected smack in the face, I opened up the Census mailing. The first statement is: "The Census must count every person living in the U.S. on April 1, 2010." Instantly, I realize that I will be counted in this Census even though I will be 40 but Mark will not be because he's dead. If that doesn't put 40 in perspective, I don't know what does. It's these random events/things that really makes Mark's death hit home. Another one is the fact that my digestive tract can finally tolerate small amounts of caffeine and doesn't balk at eating during the daylight hours. I just realized last week that it's been since around Mark's diagnosis on March 27, 2008 that I have been able to do those two things without severe consequences. That's 2 YEARS that my physiological system has been violently reacting to Mark's painful journey. It's amazing to me and surreal to think about. Part of me wants to hold it up and out and say, "See! Even though I wasn't his wife, his pain and death affected me tremendously." Even though I held it together and made it through day by day, my body told the true story and while I would get frustrated and angry at it for not allowing me more eating freedom, now I am proud of it because it just bears witness to the fact that he was almost as close to me as family. In some senses he was closer because he was there during the horribly bad times and he did not desert me as many did.

All this from the Census questionnaire...

Anticipating A Tough Day

Tomorrow should prove to be an interesting day for many unrelated reasons. First, I'm still under the weather which always make the day that much more challenging. Second, V. should find out tomorrow if the jerks out in Saudi will finally give approval to "go live" which has to happen before he can come home. Meanwhile, his time off is slowly ticking away and his trip to China is getting closer. Extremely frustrating to say the least. Third, my mom, who has been having some serious health problems, will be getting results back from tests she had done last week and hopefully things will be okay and can be corrected.

Last but definitely not least, tomorrow Mark would have turned 40. I miss him. I wish we could have approached this milestone birthday together. We both had minor issues with birthdays and having each other there being the same age always helped. Tomorrow morning I. and I will go get some purple (his favorite color), yellow, and white flowers and take them to his gravesite. I will try to keep in mind that this is such a good opportunity to teach I. that it's sad to lose a friend but that death is not a frightening thing in and of itself. When she asked what we were doing tomorrow (as she always asks), I told her that we were going to take flowers to where Mark's body was in the ground. She said, "But Momma, Mark's in heaven!" and I agreed with her that his soul, what made him my friend, was in heaven with God but he had to leave his body here with us on earth. Then we talked about how he would be looking down from heaven and would see us bring him flowers. Her face lit up and she said, "Ooh, Momma, he's gonna like our flowers!" That innocent comment from such a sweet heart almost did me in. We'll see how well I do tomorrow - it'll be the first time I've been to his gravesite since he died so I anticipate lots of memories coming to mind.

Memories of Mark

After I took I. to school, I took myself out for a sushi lunch. Next week, I. does not have school so I won't get those breaks that I've been enjoying. Plus, I figured that it was cheaper to "treat" myself while she is in school since I don't have to pay a babysitter. So I enjoyed my sushi and magazine and then headed home to get a few things done and a short rest.

During the short rest, I heard UPS leave something at the door or rather I heard Hootie the parrot begin his best imitation of a very loud car alarm which he does when he sees someone approaching the door. It's actually kind of handy when you're upstairs and might be expecting someone/something at the door.

Anyways, I heard him and knew what it was. It was my Mark book that I made last week and it was here, specifically on my doorstep. Part of me wanted to go look at it but most of me knew that it was not a good idea because I was needing to leave in 10 minutes to pick I. up from school. Right before I left the house, I brought the package in and left it on the table which is where it is now. I'm going to open it now...

It's a beautiful book and I'm so glad I made it. I made it through without crying until our last 2 pictures. Those last 2 pictures just bring the last 5 days flooding back - the raw emotions, pain, the long agonizing journey to death. But again, it is a beautiful book though I WISH I had so many more photos to put in it and I'm so bummed that my wedding picture with Mark wouldn't scan adequately enough to include it. I just went and found 2 pictures from the reception with Mark and I in them so I attached them to the book and maybe I'll see if the wedding photographer (I don't even remember who it was) still has the digital file of that one photo so that I can enlarge and frame it. That would be awesome.

Last Night Sucked

As this post's title states, last night sucked. V. called and I told him again that he needed to find out if the girls were going to Idyllwild with us between Christmas and New Year's because the accomodations seemed to be limited for 3 bedrooms so I didn't want to wait too long. Mind you, this is probably the third time I've brought this up in the last 6 weeks.

After a moment of silence, V. drops the bomb on me. "I may not be home then." Huh, what?! This is the first I've heard of this. Last year even though he was in Saudi and missed Christmas, he was able to make it for this but this year, uh not looking good. So we have 2 WHOLE weeks as a family a year and you're telling me that after being gone 95% of the year, we're not going to be able to go away for that second week? I so look forward to this - I already bought snowboots for I. (V. knew this) and talk all year about taking walks in the cold air with the smell of wood burning fireplaces burning and the silence of the forest. But this year, it looks like V. may not be here for Christmas (or Thanksgiving for that matter) or New Year's. And if he is, it'll be too late to schedule the damn trip. And as for planning my 40th birthday trip, that's not looking too hopeful either.

I'm tired of a lot of things. I'm tired of: being alone; having too little adult fun; not being able to plan anything ahead of time; not having anything to really look forward to; watching the best years of my life pass by (not as a mother but as a wife and woman); feeling like my life is on hold; being stuck in the house from 3pm on (since the time change); living life as a single mom with an albeit kickass alimony; and my strong, close, loving marriage taking hits for several years now. It makes me sad, stressed, upset, angry, and worried.

To add to last night's angst: as a reward for posting an online review of our Vegas trip, the website gave me a free 8x8 photo album on Shutterfly. I thought for a couple of weeks what I wanted to use it for and a few nights ago, it just hit me upside the head - an album of Mark. Of course, I didn't have very many photos of him healthy since we all think in our 30s we'll live forever so why take the time to take pictures? So, putting together this album was hard on me. Organizing the photos and visually seeing Mark's physical demise as his inner beauty shone forth was heartwrenching and brought many painful emotions to the surface. Thank God I finished the book and I'm looking forward to seeing and cherishing the finished project. It'll be worth the pain, I just know it.

So that was my night yesterday, a rough one and a late one. Tonight is looking better so far. I was able to have lunch with a friend of mine while I. was at preschool and it was a really nice hour. I have hope that I won't have the emotional hangover tomorrow morning that I had today.

Yes, I Am Aware

Yes, I am aware that tomorrow is exactly 2 months to the day that Mark died. More importantly, I'm remembering coming home 2 months ago at 11:30pm, exhausted and wondering if Mark would still be alive when I woke up. I went to sleep after 1am (I'm a person who needs 8-9 hours of sleep), put the phone next to me in the bed just in case, and was happy when I woke up in the morning knowing that Mark had made it through the night. Now I know the horrible reality of what tomorrow morning 2 months ago would bring but it still doesn't penetrate reality right now.

I'm sure that it will tomorrow. I'll let you know.

You've Got to Be Kidding Me

I went onto my Momma's message board and guess what? There were posts from all 3 of the organizers saying they were leaving the group, thus rendering it defunct as of February, when the dues ran out. Are you fucking kidding me?

Last night, I just finished synching our calendar for the next 2 months with all the events with this Momma's group just in time to find out that they are all gone and the rug has now been effectively pulled out from underneath us. Just add this to all my other losses.

Here's what I posted:

"I don't know about the rest of you Mommas but I have to admit, I'm a LITTLE pissed off with the recent, abrupt defections. While I still care about and appreciate all 3 Mommas, I'm not ready to ditch the events and friendships of this group. I don't know about you, but between losing my best friend, having my hubby gone most of the time, and now Isabella going to preschool, I cannot handle any more losses right now. So let's grab the fuckin' rug and put it under ourselves once again. Let's start brainstorming, stepping up to bat, and figuring out how to make this work. Yeah, we all have different preschool schedules but that doesn't stop our posting communications, MNOs, and various weekly get togethers. Just because we can no longer get together 3 times a week due to preschool schedules does not mean that we can no longer have a working group.If necessary, I will find out how to get access to posting events on Meetup from one of our past Organizers and then maybe we'll just do this as a coop, everyone chipping in to continue the friendships with our kids' friends and our friends. It's seemed to kinda evolve into that the last few months anyway.With that being said, who's in with me?"

I'll be interested to see what tomorrow brings. Again timing is impeccable; just more loss.

When Your Best Isn't Very Good

Thank God people don't actually read my blog because I'm sure there would be an outcrying over this post, complete with anoxeria nervosa specialist links attached to the outraged comments. Because these days, food is really overrated. This from a woman who lovingly plans complete semi-fancy dinners for the week cross-referencing her favorite recipes to what is on sale at the grocery store. I like to eat yummy food or at least, I USED to like to eat yummy food.

Now, I view food as a necessary, albeit very small part, of my life. Before any links for eating disorders get sent my way, this is not because I think I am fat (or was fat) though I have to admit I'm pretty happy that the little mommy gut I had collected along the way has shrinked measurably and on good days, has almost disappeared, especially if I'm standing up. But that has just been a nice by-product of what is really going on here.

Except I'm not quite sure exactly what is going on here. My stomach has been in knots for a while, leading to me getting ill when I do eat, especially if it's before 5pm. So, I choke down a low calorie protein drink in the morning (so I can work out) while I'm doing something else because if I'm not doing something else, I'll gag on it. Any solid foods in the morning come out immediately and I'm not saying anything more about that. Lunch consists of a protein bar if I'm can stay distracted enough to choke that down and dinner (since V. has been gone for almost a month) is a Weight Watchers dinner or some steamed shrimp. The weirdest thing for me, normally having a pretty healthy appetite, is that I am stuffed after these dinners.

So yeah, I've got grief and some stress to help explain this phenomenon but to be honest it's more than that. I eat only enough to not pass out, sustain a hard gym workout, and have enough of a foundation for nighttime vodka tonics after I. is safely asleep. Yes, I know it's not healthy, not even a little bit. But you know what, IT MAKES ME FEEL BETTER. Better because I can control it, this in a world that is SO out of control for me right now. I like feeling the hunger pains because the physical pain makes me feel less guilty that I'm alive and Mark is not. I don't want to feel good right now because ultimately, it will make me feel bad. I can't do all the physical things I used to do to deal with my emotional anguish but I can feel the pain of hunger and it distracts me. I try to remember to take a vitamin with dinner so I'm not trying to do damage to myself, I'm just trying to make it through.

And while I'm not proud of myself and I may not be treating myself the very best that I could be, with V. gone and Mark dead and me trying to keep I. happy and my head above water each day as a single parent, it's the best I've got so for right now, it'll just have to do.

The Week

I guess I must have used up all my words on the trifecta posts of Sunday because I haven't had anything to blog about since then. Maybe that's not exactly accurate. It's not that I haven't had anything to blog about, it's just that I didn't have the words.

I had my therapist appointment on Monday, causing me to face emotions, anxieties, and sad thoughts I had stuffed down in order to make it through the days as a quasi-single parent of a 3.5 year old. Dealing with all this led to a harrowing, long night with me pacing around until 12:30 am until I finally was able to settle down and go to bed. So much anger, sadness, despair, and loss being faced all at one time.

I think that the worst emotion that is the root of all the other emotions is loss. Loss. LOSS. Loss of a friend with whom I knew and was known intimately, one that I had 11 years of important, life changing history during some really formulative years. That history now cannot be shared with anyone since I'm the only one left standing to talk about it. Loss because I'll never have the opportunity to have a friendship like that - those days are gone now and never will come again.

These days and nights are dichotomous - I'm exhausted but I can't sleep well, I'm starving but I can't eat. Basically I get through the days by sheer concentration on I. and get through the nights through sheer determination which at times feels like I'm scratching my nails on a chalkboard for hours. There are things that piss me off during the day that I don't realize until they come back to me at night to be processed. The latest, irrational (and probably self-centered) thing that has been pissing me off is when people seem to pass right over my grief but are sure to ask how Jodi is with this sympathetic, hushed tone. I feel like screaming, "Yes, I realize that I was ONLY his FRIEND and not his WIFE but she was his wife for 3 years and he was my closest friend for 11 years and I know things about him that even she doesn't know!" That makes it sound like it's a competition which it isn't and I understand that Mark and I weren't planning a life in the future together which is a HUGE thing but the fact remains that we had a special, one of a kind friendship that other people cannot even BEGIN to understand and I'll be DAMNED if my grief is discounted and passed over.

As you can see, I'm really not fit for human consumption right now thus an idea I had for a t-shirt. The front of it would read "My best friend is dead." and the back would say "Any questions? Good! Now GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!" Seriously, I'm really considering it because I know just having that shirt and wearing it even if it was around the house would make me feel better. And in these early days of grieving, even feeling a little better would be well worth it.

Dreams & Reality

Bad dreams again this morning. It's not unusual for me to have bad dreams but usually they are in the middle of the night, two or three hours after I've fallen asleep. But since Mark began his descent and then final ascent, my nightmares come in the morning hours between 4 and 7 am., the sacred hours as I call them because it is during these hours I normally get good sleep. The rest of the night I wake up often, sometimes every time I turn over but those few hours before I'm called to duty is when I can finally, truly sleep.

But now these are the hours when all the day's, week's, and month's emotions get turned into multiple bad dreams. Dreams of titanic waves crashing over me; scary stormy days when it looks like the world is ending; watching I. drowning and not being able to reach her; I myself dying of cancer; angry screaming at people close to me and strangers; being chased by strangers trying to kill me and waking up to my own screams as the knife enters my body. And that is really the worst part of them - the waking up. Because even though it was only a dream, my body and soul don't know that - my heart is racing, there are tears on my face, and my throat is sore from screaming. And then I remember, Mark is dead and though my nightmares were not real, that horrible fact is. This is how I start my days.

I Miss My Friend

Finally got around to downloading pictures for the last month and there were some pictures of Mark and I from our last "normal" day together and it took me by surprise. This picture tears me up and I began hyperventilating as I was sobbing and still continue to sob. Partly because I miss his smile and him. But also because I look at both of our smiles and see the pure joy and beauty of our friendship despite the life situations. Anyone can look at our faces and see the joy that we have just being together.

Keep in mind that it was just a few hours after this picture was taken on Sunday afternoon, that Mark started the steep decline and finally died on Thursday at 10:52 am. While I am so thankful for getting to read him all our good memories, hug him tightly, and be there with him to the end, my grief is deep, painful, and far reaching. I am changed forever having seen and been through everything I've gone through the last month - it's not even the viewing or the funeral. I could contain that - it's the actual watching my best friend my age slowly die over 3 days that has changed me. It was the most painful thing I've ever been through and the things I saw and experienced during those 3 days haunt me. I saw and experienced the human pain of others - his wife Jodi, his sister, and his parents and that pain was more than I ever had felt and all this was in addition to my own pain.

Will write more later - too overwhelmed now.

I am so thankful that I have this picture though because it captures our friendship. Here is the photo from almost exactly a year ago when I flew up to Seattle for a weekend to be with Mark.

End of the Week

I made it through the first "normal" week in one piece. It was a week full of a lot of different things - started it off with 2 therapist appointments (one for me, one for V.), moved on to an evening away for a concert, and now the inlaws and stepdaughters are here. After a full day today, I'm upstairs hibernating with my laptop, Sex in the City reruns, magazines, and a nice bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon. You don't even want to know the lengths I had to go to in order to smuggle the bottle, a glass, and bottle opener up here.

The therapist appointments seem to go well since V. came home after his and I could immediately sense a more relaxed, open vibe from him. We had fun together during our time away though I had some defenses up but things are still getting better. He seems to be more concerned about my feelings and doing things to help get me the space I need. Really, the only stress that has to do with us is the fact that he's leaving on Tuesday (as are his parents) to be gone for a month or so. I just hope the wall doesn't go back up and we're back to square one. I told him that I was going to be on high alert this time around and that I was going to "call him" on it if I felt the wall being erected.

The visit has been going well. V.'s parents are low maintenance so that makes it easy. The only close call came tonight. I spent time making meatloaf and roasted broccoli and then when it came time to serve it, I realized that there was only going to be enough for 5 people so I didn't get any which was okay really because I had eaten a sandwich at lunchtime and wasn't hungry. It was more the embarrassment factor because I didn't want to make anyone feel bad but it worked out okay so was just a close call.

When the girls arrived tonight, they gave me hugs and then with huge smiles on their faces said they were sorry for me losing my friend. I said thank you, shrugged ('cause what else is there really to say), and went upstairs to take a shower. I was kind of pissed off because I knew V. had said something to them to make them say that to me. Or maybe I was irritated that they said it with these huge smiles on their faces like they were ready to crack up. I let it go though and figure that they were just nervous and uncomfortable and that's why they were smiling. I think the bottom line is this: too little, too late.

It's still hard to get into the flow of normal life. I can go through the motions of all of it, but my heart is just not into it. It all just feels empty and at times, pointless. I guess that's just how it's going to be for awhile.

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

Here's the good to start things off. Mark's party went really well yesterday with all his good friends showing up as well as his parents. One friend made this really amazing banner that brought Jodi almost to tears and put big smiles on his parents' faces.

There were a lot of good stories, beer, great food, a hidden flask of whiskey (Maker's Mark of course). I did have a good time and stayed from 10:30ish til 6:30.

The bad is that now that all the events are over, I'm not sure what to do. I'm attempting to move on with normal things - cleaning, laundry, the gym, taking care of I. etc. but there is an underlying sadness and depression that no one seems to understand. It seems like unless I am sobbing (which I don't do in front of people), people around me just think I'm doing fine and am expected to act normally in all situations. It reminds me of when I was sick before but always made sure I looked good, that people just assumed I was fine. I let them assume that until it was almost too late. I'm not sure what to do about this but as of August 11th, I will be on my own again with I. for awhile so I won't have to deal with it as much. For now, I'm just exhausted by the evening and then have a ton of dreams for 3/4 of the night.

The ugly is that the train seems to be off the tracks (at least in my view) with V. He came home Wednesday night after I was already in bed and even though he knew I was still awake, he didn't hug or kiss me. We made it through the next day civilly but by that night, I basically had an intervention, reading to him a one page letter of how his lack of care has made me feel the last few weeks and how things need to change. He agreed to go see my therapist on Monday afternoon and acknowledged that every time he goes over to Saudi Arabia, he builds a wall up to survive and it doesn't come down even after he comes home. I felt like we made some headway but then Friday night came and all hell broke loose. He went to work up in LA so he could get the girls finally, the first time all summer. But then he arrived around 8pm. without the girls. I had thought that since they were coming down, we could take 1 car and then when I was ready to leave Mark's party, I'd call V. and have him pick me up. I asked where the girls were and he said they chose to stay home. I asked if it was because of Mark's party and he said "partly". That just pissed me off on so many levels that I won't go into and I made the comment that "I was so sorry I was such a pariah to the Valdez side of my life". Later I said I had better get some taxi numbers so that I could have a ride home from the party and V. made some comment "well, if you're going to drink ALL afternoon etc. etc. etc." and I went fucking ballistic which I rarely do.

I think what set me off is the perceived slur that I had no right to drink all afternoon if I wanted to, if I deserved to. It got ugly after that and while I'm not proud, I think what I said deserved to be said. My life has changed forever as a result of what I've experienced and have gone through and no time soon will I return to normal. If V. wants to act like life is status quo and keep his wall up, there will be a price to pay. Unfortunately, I feel like since I don't have the wall up, it is I that is paying the price, once for Mark and then again for V.

I just keep thinking, "like I needed this shit". That seems to be my mantra now. I thought our marriage was a team that couldn't be broken after all we've been through but now my foundation is shaken and I don't know what to think. At this time, it's extremely disconcerting and just adds to my sadness.