I have amazing friends. I have always taken pride in surrounding myself with awesome people. Saturday night was a perfect illustration of what I've always known. MY FRIENDS ARE AMAZING!
Just after kicking Simon out, my friend Amy decided she wanted to throw me a party to make me feel better about everything. I said sure, let's do something in October. I figured if between July and October I wasn't feeling any better about things, I would definitely need something to help me out of my misery.
I'd pretty much forgotten about that until a couple weeks ago when Amy emailed me to make sure I was still available on Oct. 27th.
Saturday rolled around and I had been given instructions to wear pink and be at my friend Tracy's house for 4pm.
When the door opened, I found Tracy's living room transformed into a girlie girl's dreamland! Pink everywhere, balloons, streamers, food, candy, trinkets and a throne for me!! :) Amy and Tracy crowned me Bachelorette for the evening, complete with crown, sash and wand. And the best part of my outfit was a t-shirt with "I'm NOT with stupid ANYMORE" emblazoned across the front!!!
They sat me on my throne and told me that a surprise was about to reveal itself. Music started to play and I looked around the room wondering what was in store. I asked them "Will I be scared?" They laughed and assured me that I would be just fine. I closed my eyes for a moment and prayed they didn't get me a stripper.
Suddenly, a gorgeous woman in a fancy purple two piece outfit appeared from the basement and began dancing. A BELLY DANCER!!!! WHOOO HOOOO!!! She was so beautiful and fluid that I was completely stunned with a grin on my face. At the end of her dance, Amy asked me if I would like to learn some of those moves. HELL YA!
All of us were given proper belly dancing accessories - jingly wraps to go around our waist. Mine was pink (of course) and I got to keep it! :) An hour later, we were all sweating and sore from the work out. People, belly dancing is quite deceiving. It looks fluid and effortless, but in reality it takes an extreme amount of control. Our teacher commented that I have a natural talent for it.
After our belly dancer left, we order in some awesome authentic Indian food, and played a bunch of hilarious games. Prizes were handed out to winners and non-winners alike. :) Dessert came in the form of a cake, which I got to cut to the tune of "I Will Survive" sung by my girls at the top of our lungs. And then we were off to KARAOKE!!!
On the way out the door, Aimee managed to knock over a glass that was still half full of sangria, splashing it all over the carpet and couch. Luckily for us, Tracy has two kids and has the entire place Scotch guarded. Spill clean up took about 5 minutes. Then on my way out the door, somehow my bag reached around from the right side of me, hooking on to the lamp to the left of me and brought it down to smash all over the floor. At this point, I think Tracy was going to smash her head against a wall. Lamp clean up - another 6 minutes.
Once we got to karaoke, we took over the joint! We were loud and fun and feathered in boas and sparkling in tiaras. The whole place was wondering who was getting married, as it quite looked like a hen party. Then we started singing ball busting songs. I chose "Goodbye Earl" by the Dixie Chicks to warm up. A few women stopped by our table and asked what the party was all about. I proudly proclaimed "to celebrate my divorce"!! I got high fives, congratulations and "You go girl!" from pretty much everyone at the bar.
There was a table of cute boys nearby and my friend Kelly sent over a beer to the one I thought was cutest. She told the waitress to tell the cutie that the beer was in fact from me. On my way up to sing another song, he stopped me and thanked me for the beer. I also managed to snag a picture of him kissing me on the cheek. :)
That whole night was absolutely perfect in every way...except for the lamp smashing. :) Here is the email I sent to my girls the next day to thank them for a magical night.
"To my dear sweet girlfriends,
Last night was a truly wonderful surprise. It was a perfect night with all my favourite things! Pink, tiaras, food, dancing, breaking shit (sorry Tracy!), and of course karaoke!!!
It has been a very long time since I have had a genuine smile on my face. I couldn't stop smiling last night and it was because of the love you all surrounded me with. All of you have played a very important and meaningful part in my healing process. I want to thank you all from the bottom of my heart for giving me unconditional love.
A special thanks to my divorce twin. The Goddess made it so we would have each other to lean on during this time. Thanks for coming out last night, I know it was past your bedtime. :)
An extra special thanks to Tracy for allowing us to invade her home and making a mess. You are a true blue friend. Tracy has been a sort of Mom to me, even though she's 3 years younger! Whenever I needed to hear gentle and caring motherly advice, Tracy was right there for me. And whenever I needed a hug, Tracy would give me the warmest and best ones. She's been there through all of it and I can't thank her enough.
And a super duper extra humongous thank you to Amy for deciding to do this for me. Amy was the one who let me cry on her couch the Monday after I kicked SpEd out, after having told my boss at work and leaving early because I couldn't stop crying. And she has spent endless hours since then, on the phone listening to me bawl and bawl. I can't thank her enough for the support she gave me during those first few weeks. Without her, I probably would have jumped off my balcony. Thank you Amy for all the extremely lovely details you put together. All of it was noticed and appreciated. The games were so much fun! The surprise belly dancing was AWESOME! You know me and the things that make me smile, and you put them all together in one room for one amazingly special night.
I feel reborn. You have all ushered me into the new chapter in my life. And I go forward knowing that I will be okay. And even when I'm not, I know I have all of you backing me up. It gives me hope and peace. I hope one day I will be able to repay all of you. THANK YOU!!!!!"
Thanks again to Amy, Tracy, Kelly, Fahrin, Marie, Darcy, Aimee, & Renee. This couldn't have come at a more perfect time. I am ready to get back to my life and back into sharing happy times with my friends.
Monday, October 29, 2007
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Revelations
Things come and go rather quickly for my soon-to-be-ex. I got confirmation from two different sources that his relationship with Shannon was kaput as of October 19th.
Facebook is a plethora of information. :)
It's been 16 days since I've been at work. I'm scheduled to go back on October 29th. I can happily say I'm feeling miles better than I was. The medication has done its job, and I'm on the road to wellness. I won't say that I'm not sad anymore, because I am. But I'm not drowning in my own sorrow. I am now able to feel it, but not be consumed by it. Looking back at the last few months, it's amazing I didn't jump off a bridge.
I had a session with my therapist last week and I cried for the first time since being on the medication. But it wasn't a whole hour of blubbering like I used to do before the meds.
A few interesting revelations came out of this session. The first being that Simon is mean. I have always told myself that if he would just get himself into therapy and on medication to treat the manic depression he suffers from, his rage would disappear. My therapist says she knows a lot of people who are bi-polar who are not mean like Simon. She said I shouldn't let him off the hook by trying to attribute his meanness to his mental illness. She's totally right. I married a mean man who also happens to be a nut case, and not someone who is mean because he's a nut case.
Another revelation is that I am a sucker. A big, gullible, hopeless sucker. My therapist's words were, "You are easily fooled by sweet talking and promises." I told her I sound like a country song. She laughed quite a lot, as did I.
I've never considered myself to be gullible when it comes to people. I have always thought I am rather good at judging a person's character - true to a point. I am miserably bad at judging the character of a potential love mate. I look back on all of the long term relationships I've had and all but two have been abusive.
The lesson to be learned is that I should love a man for who is he, rather than who he promises to be. As simple as that sounds, that piece of logic has eluded me in my adult life.
Good thing I plan on never dating again. It will save me the headache of figuring that shit out.
Facebook is a plethora of information. :)
It's been 16 days since I've been at work. I'm scheduled to go back on October 29th. I can happily say I'm feeling miles better than I was. The medication has done its job, and I'm on the road to wellness. I won't say that I'm not sad anymore, because I am. But I'm not drowning in my own sorrow. I am now able to feel it, but not be consumed by it. Looking back at the last few months, it's amazing I didn't jump off a bridge.
I had a session with my therapist last week and I cried for the first time since being on the medication. But it wasn't a whole hour of blubbering like I used to do before the meds.
A few interesting revelations came out of this session. The first being that Simon is mean. I have always told myself that if he would just get himself into therapy and on medication to treat the manic depression he suffers from, his rage would disappear. My therapist says she knows a lot of people who are bi-polar who are not mean like Simon. She said I shouldn't let him off the hook by trying to attribute his meanness to his mental illness. She's totally right. I married a mean man who also happens to be a nut case, and not someone who is mean because he's a nut case.
Another revelation is that I am a sucker. A big, gullible, hopeless sucker. My therapist's words were, "You are easily fooled by sweet talking and promises." I told her I sound like a country song. She laughed quite a lot, as did I.
I've never considered myself to be gullible when it comes to people. I have always thought I am rather good at judging a person's character - true to a point. I am miserably bad at judging the character of a potential love mate. I look back on all of the long term relationships I've had and all but two have been abusive.
The lesson to be learned is that I should love a man for who is he, rather than who he promises to be. As simple as that sounds, that piece of logic has eluded me in my adult life.
Good thing I plan on never dating again. It will save me the headache of figuring that shit out.
Monday, October 15, 2007
Minor Milestones
I've been officially separated for 3 months now. I've been officially on anti-depressants for 2 weeks now. And I've been officially on a leave from work for 6 days now.
Yay me.
Since being on meds/off work, I thought I would do myself a favour and go easy on myself. I've always been the type of person to over achieve, to push myself to the limits, to stretch so thin that I swear I've seen actual holes appear in my body. However, being in this fragile emotional state, I promised myself I would only set one goal per day. Small, achievable goals so that I don't get overwhelmed.
My goals thus far:
- pick up the things I threw on the floor in the living room (check)
- do the dishes (check)
- read for a period of more than 30 minutes (check)
- draw (check)
- have dinner with friends (check)
- change the cat litter (still working on that)
Today's goal is to post to my blog. Check.
Tomorrow's goal is to buy a small canvas and a few tubes of paint. I've always wanted to try painting. I am sure it will end up looking like a big blob of nothing, but I don't care. I want to squeeze the paints on to the canvas and smoosh the colours around until I feel better. I want to get my hands into the paint and feel the liquid squish between my fingers. I want the paint to get under my fingernails so that I will be picking it out for the next week. I'm not sure why I'm so convinced that painting will help me, but I've got to explore this feeling.
Squish.
Yay me.
Since being on meds/off work, I thought I would do myself a favour and go easy on myself. I've always been the type of person to over achieve, to push myself to the limits, to stretch so thin that I swear I've seen actual holes appear in my body. However, being in this fragile emotional state, I promised myself I would only set one goal per day. Small, achievable goals so that I don't get overwhelmed.
My goals thus far:
- pick up the things I threw on the floor in the living room (check)
- do the dishes (check)
- read for a period of more than 30 minutes (check)
- draw (check)
- have dinner with friends (check)
- change the cat litter (still working on that)
Today's goal is to post to my blog. Check.
Tomorrow's goal is to buy a small canvas and a few tubes of paint. I've always wanted to try painting. I am sure it will end up looking like a big blob of nothing, but I don't care. I want to squeeze the paints on to the canvas and smoosh the colours around until I feel better. I want to get my hands into the paint and feel the liquid squish between my fingers. I want the paint to get under my fingernails so that I will be picking it out for the next week. I'm not sure why I'm so convinced that painting will help me, but I've got to explore this feeling.
Squish.
Monday, October 08, 2007
Numb
Medication is a lovely thing. I've been on anti-depressants for a week now and I am in numbed bliss. Well, as blissful as one can be without actually feeling anything. Except tired and nauseous.
It's a surreal feeling, er, non-feeling. I watch TV and when the funny parts come, I laugh but it is a mechanical laugh. I watch the news and when the sad story of street racers killing innocent people is playing, I know I should be crying, but I don't.
Everything is even. Nothing makes me happy, and nothing makes me sad. I was looking back at my older posts to see if anything would illicit a reaction and nope, nothing. A week ago I would have burst into tears re-reading my stories. And now, I read it as though it happened to someone I don't even know.
I saw my therapist on Friday and usually I spend the hour bawling my face off. Not this time! Not one tear was spilled. I was able to talk about how I was feeling without actually feeling it. And I was able to listen to her advice.
My homework for the next two weeks is to work on forgiving myself. I made a mistake by marrying Simon. And as hard as it is to accept, I need to accept it and forgive myself for making that mistake. Everyone makes mistakes. Everyone is allowed to make mistakes because we are all human. Everyone makes huge, colossal, seemingly insurmountable mistakes at least once in a lifetime. I have done that. And now I have to say that it's okay.
It's a lot easier to rationalize these things now that I am on an even keel. Thanks to my doctor for giving me the tool I needed to get on to the path of forgiving myself.
It's a surreal feeling, er, non-feeling. I watch TV and when the funny parts come, I laugh but it is a mechanical laugh. I watch the news and when the sad story of street racers killing innocent people is playing, I know I should be crying, but I don't.
Everything is even. Nothing makes me happy, and nothing makes me sad. I was looking back at my older posts to see if anything would illicit a reaction and nope, nothing. A week ago I would have burst into tears re-reading my stories. And now, I read it as though it happened to someone I don't even know.
I saw my therapist on Friday and usually I spend the hour bawling my face off. Not this time! Not one tear was spilled. I was able to talk about how I was feeling without actually feeling it. And I was able to listen to her advice.
My homework for the next two weeks is to work on forgiving myself. I made a mistake by marrying Simon. And as hard as it is to accept, I need to accept it and forgive myself for making that mistake. Everyone makes mistakes. Everyone is allowed to make mistakes because we are all human. Everyone makes huge, colossal, seemingly insurmountable mistakes at least once in a lifetime. I have done that. And now I have to say that it's okay.
It's a lot easier to rationalize these things now that I am on an even keel. Thanks to my doctor for giving me the tool I needed to get on to the path of forgiving myself.
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
Cross My Heart
My brother's wedding went off without a hitch. Actually, there technically was one very teeny hitch - the guys didn't wear their boutonnieres during the ceremony. The weather was perfect after waking up to pouring rain. The groomsmen all arrived on time, had eaten breakfast, and their socks matched their tuxes. The bride arrived on time and was walking down the aisle at 2:05pm, as planned. I have to pat myself on the back for a job well done. I promised my brother and his wife the perfect day and I think I delivered.
Because I had been so incredibly busy that day, I didn't have time to think about Simon at all. Which was a good thing as I had to keep my wits about me while everyone else was freaking out. With that said, for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. That came the next day on the drive back from St. Catharines, in the form of me bawling my eyes out for 1 1/2 hours behind the wheel of a vehicle moving at 120 km/hr. Tears and highway driving are generally not a great combination.
Prior to the festivities, I paid a visit to my doctor and let him in on the horribleness of my marriage. I blub, blub, blubbed for about an hour after which, he declared me to be depressed. Along with that title, I received parting gifts of anti-depressants and sleeping pills. Who knew crying uncontrollably had its privileges? (Insert sarcasm here, in case you couldn't figure it out.)
After arriving home somewhat safely, I walked to the drugstore and filled my prescriptions. I've started my medication and I am planning to take a leave of absence from work for a month. I still have to get approval from the company's insurance provider so that I will continue to get paid. I am not independently wealthy, or even moderately close to making ends meet. Currently the HR department doesn't think I'll be approved. In not so many words, they told me that depression isn't a "real" illness, and so why should the insurance provider pay me not to work when there's really nothing wrong with me?
Learning this has caused me even more stress. I am just trying to get it together you know? I figure I will let the meds do their job and allow me to get a grip on my emotions, so that I can go back to work and NOT want to scratch people's eyes out when they ask me for something. Every time a piece of mail comes in with my married name on it, I want to burn it to a cinder and mail back the ashes with a note saying, "NO SUCH PERSON HERE!"
At any rate, I had booked an appointment to get a massage a few weeks before my brother's wedding, knowing I would need to decompress. I went today and asked my sweet RMT to work on my shoulders, neck and back, as that is where I tend to carry my stress.
As she was working on me, I felt really awful, painful knots near the left shoulder blade. Usually the pain is on the right side of my neck and shoulders, as that comes from working with a keyboard and mouse all day long.
After she was finished, she gave me a little chart with all the trouble points she had located. She had marked a pretty large area on the left side of my back. She looked at me and asked me if I was okay. I said, "Yes!" as I always do, and she said, "I'm sensing there's something very wrong." I relented and said, "Well, yeah. There are a lot of things wrong." She asked if it was emotional or physical. I told her it was emotional. She then told me that the area which the tension had accumulated is over a large nerve centre. Right over my heart.
And that my friends, is irony at its best.
Because I had been so incredibly busy that day, I didn't have time to think about Simon at all. Which was a good thing as I had to keep my wits about me while everyone else was freaking out. With that said, for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. That came the next day on the drive back from St. Catharines, in the form of me bawling my eyes out for 1 1/2 hours behind the wheel of a vehicle moving at 120 km/hr. Tears and highway driving are generally not a great combination.
Prior to the festivities, I paid a visit to my doctor and let him in on the horribleness of my marriage. I blub, blub, blubbed for about an hour after which, he declared me to be depressed. Along with that title, I received parting gifts of anti-depressants and sleeping pills. Who knew crying uncontrollably had its privileges? (Insert sarcasm here, in case you couldn't figure it out.)
After arriving home somewhat safely, I walked to the drugstore and filled my prescriptions. I've started my medication and I am planning to take a leave of absence from work for a month. I still have to get approval from the company's insurance provider so that I will continue to get paid. I am not independently wealthy, or even moderately close to making ends meet. Currently the HR department doesn't think I'll be approved. In not so many words, they told me that depression isn't a "real" illness, and so why should the insurance provider pay me not to work when there's really nothing wrong with me?
Learning this has caused me even more stress. I am just trying to get it together you know? I figure I will let the meds do their job and allow me to get a grip on my emotions, so that I can go back to work and NOT want to scratch people's eyes out when they ask me for something. Every time a piece of mail comes in with my married name on it, I want to burn it to a cinder and mail back the ashes with a note saying, "NO SUCH PERSON HERE!"
At any rate, I had booked an appointment to get a massage a few weeks before my brother's wedding, knowing I would need to decompress. I went today and asked my sweet RMT to work on my shoulders, neck and back, as that is where I tend to carry my stress.
As she was working on me, I felt really awful, painful knots near the left shoulder blade. Usually the pain is on the right side of my neck and shoulders, as that comes from working with a keyboard and mouse all day long.
After she was finished, she gave me a little chart with all the trouble points she had located. She had marked a pretty large area on the left side of my back. She looked at me and asked me if I was okay. I said, "Yes!" as I always do, and she said, "I'm sensing there's something very wrong." I relented and said, "Well, yeah. There are a lot of things wrong." She asked if it was emotional or physical. I told her it was emotional. She then told me that the area which the tension had accumulated is over a large nerve centre. Right over my heart.
And that my friends, is irony at its best.
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