Forum: Arts / Diaries

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re: ...the creed of the seamstress is that you're pretty in pieces
By ChristinePremium member
On Wed Oct 18, 2017 11:45 PM
Nothing to show for it? Nonsense. You are getting out with your life and a year from now you are going to be the person you were meant to be.

You can do this.

And when you think you can't....think again.

I am very happy he is moving out. Enough of his childish neediness.

If you spend as much time caring for yourself as you have spent caring for him you will be just fine.

We love you.



Keep On Dancing*
re: ...the creed of the seamstress is that you're pretty in pieces
By Sumayah
On Sun Oct 22, 2017 04:24 PM
Edited by Sumayah (204191) on 2017-10-23 14:40:14 spelling
I've got a lot to get out. Go grab a beverage, a blanket, snacks. Actually... Lemme do the same.


So here's something I haven't talked about. Maybe because of shame? Actually, let me just own that. I have not talked about this because of shame and because of hypocrisy.

B is a racist.

We've argued about it. A lot.

But I've still lived with him knowing he was a racist.

How can I call myself an ally? How can I consider myself an intersectional feminist? How can I purport to stand up for black lives, for all people of color, for LGBTQIA+ rights, for disabled accessibility needs, for immigrant and refugee rights? How can I be this person when my husband is basically a racist jerk? And if he's not against these things, he's not actively for them which is just as much a problem. Basically he identifies as a liberal Republican. I'm... not. He didn't vote Trump, I know, because he just didn't vote at all.

I'm not looking for platitudes and people telling me it's okay, because it's not. Yes, I'm doing the right thing now. But that doesn't excuse the past. And his racism was a large part of my growing separation from him and lack of attraction and a big part of why we're getting divorced. It is definitely a huge compounding factor.

But that doesn't make up for years of knowing and inaction.

I feel complicit.

It's gross. And I feel gross having housed this knowledge, this person, for so long.

He sincerely believes that because he grew up poor, he doesn't have white privilege.

Let me let that sink in.

My white soon-to-be-ex-husband with his blue eyes and longish, sandy light brown hair he gets blonde highlights in, who owns his own business, actually believes that he has less privilege than a PoC.



I just...

We've fought about this. Like had many long arguments about how completely incorrect he is. About how it doesn't matter if a PoC had more resources growing up, they are automatically at a disadvantage based solely on their skin color. He doesn't believe it. He will counter argue until we're both angry.

He's arguing against fact. He won't read articles. He flat out refuses to educate himself. He's happy in his ignorance.

He's joked in the past when he's played games like Civilization that he's the dictator, the Führer, Hitler if you will. The fact that he even has those thoughts, even as a joke against faux digital people, aliens in space even, I cannot support. I cannot listen to him say he hates "thugs." Oh not all black people, not "respectable" black people, just "thugs." It makes me want to punch him in the face. I should punch him in the face. Saying things like that are abhorrent. Straight up abhorrent. He doesn't believe we should accept refugees or allow immigrants. I just can't... who does think founded this country? I mean, aside from the absolute genocide and pushing out of the Native Americans and casting them off like second class citizens. Because white people are awful.

But yeah. While I've been learning and growing and discovering that I do have privilege and the best way I can use it is by amplifying the voices of those with less privilege - in their own words - and by giving back with what resources and energy I have as I can. Meanwhile the person I had agreed to love until death do we part had not evolved in any way. Nope.

So when I talk about there being a disconnect, this was one of those major disconnects between us. And it's one I'm pretty ashamed of.

We had our Performance in the Park last night and it just reminded me that I'm home when I'm on the side of the stage. I definitely need to be involved in dance. And frankly, I don't need anyone in my life who doesn't support dance in my life. And I am looking forward to removing that negative influence from me. B has in the past few years been actively hateful and jealous of dance. Can't. He wanted me to choose between dance and him and guess what? I choose dance.

That leads me to the last part. I started a Match account. It's more symbolic at this point. It also allows me to look and dip my toes in the pool from the safety of my computer. It's also not Tinder which just seems to be all about hookups. I just want to go on a couple dates and like have coffee. I don't want a long term relationship with anyone. But I do want to put myself out there. Because, as I said, even if symbolically, it just makes this real.

Especially since B has been asking what I'm doing, who I'm texting, where I'm going, what I'm looking at online. I mean, my dude, it's none of your damn business. We are separated. You're moving out on the 4th. You don't get to know. And I don't have to tell you. Not that you ever listened in the first place. He actually forgot the name of my friend H. There's only a framed picture of us he sees daily. It's just not important to him. But yet suddenly he's all interested in my social life. I think it's because he doesn't believe I didn't cheat on him. That I have my own opinions and beliefs and he doesn't align with them. That I'm capable of making decisions for myself that don't involve him in any way. That I know what's best for me. And it doesn't involve him.

He's so gross. He keeps hinting that anytime I want to get laid, I'll know where to find him. To be honest? I'm pretty sure that if I just want to get laid, I can go downtown and go home with someone. I'm not so unattractive that some cute guy wouldn't want to get it on with me. I know about stds, I know about safe sex, think I'll be a-ok.

He also keeps mentioning how weird it is to be moving after 14 years. How he's leaving his home. He joked that he could always move back in and have the back two bedrooms. No. And I don't feel bad for you. You are not a good person.


He is not a good person.

I do not respect him.

Bottom line, he is not a good person and I do not respect him. That is why I'm divorcing him.

I'm done with the passive aggressive comments. I'm ready for November 4th. I'm ready for December 11th. I'm reclaiming me and I'm liking who I am. And I'm proud of who I am. And I'm excited of who I will become if I continue to learn and grow and listen. So yeah.
re: ...the creed of the seamstress is that you're pretty in pieces
By Sumayah
On Thu Oct 26, 2017 01:28 PM
Edited by Sumayah (204191) on 2017-10-26 16:29:37
Edited by Sumayah (204191) on 2017-10-26 23:31:38
Increasing my anti-depressant has helped so much. I'm still having some trouble getting going in the morning, but I don't feel the weight of complete existential dread wash over me and crush me into the mattress. So, hey, progress!

I'm spending way too much money. Full stop. I need to put the reins on my spending, but I'm sort of like, WELP... I'm already gonna paying this off forever anyway, what's one more thing? Wrong attitude to have.

But I should be okay? I just need to buy a mattress and pay the remaining $650 to the lawyer. Then I should be done. Cutting myself off. I'll be able to make a $1000 credit card payment and that will help. But I'm basically going to have to do that each month for the next while to get it paid off before the interest kicks in. Because I do want it paid off before the interest kicks in. I know I can't afford to pay off a credit card and pay a high interest rate at the same time. So. Yeah.

I did splurge and get pre-sale tickets to the Foo Fighters in concert today. So me and my sister are going. And Imadanseur totally threw caution into the wind and is coming and it will be the best time. And maybe even Odessa! OMG..... THIS WOULD BE AMAZING!!! If the Foo fighters could bring us all together and we could have a mini mod party? +dies+


No more after the Foo Fighters. And the lawyer. And a mattress. Because broke until then. BUT FOO FIGHTERS!!!! AND FRENSSSSS. <3 <3 <3

ETA: Okay. Odessa IS COMING TOO. YOU GUYS. THIS IS GOING TO BE SO RAD. I think I might have convinced TheMidlakeMuse to come also. It’s gonna be a party!

I also ordered a matress off the internet for not too, too much money. It’s definitely not the thousands of dollars we spent on the Tempur-Pedic mattress B is taking. He can have it. I’m excited to have a new mattress that will be just mine.

Also!!! I got the courage to message a few folx on Match. I figure putting myself out there is better than hoping someone messages me. What’s the worst that can happen? Someone reads the message and goes, eh... nah. Oh well? +shrug emoji+ But this petite, nerdy brunette with glasses messaged me back. I HAVE A TYPE, OKAY. We’re presently talking Dr. Who. Right now, I’m just happy to chat and maybe at some point we can meet for coffee. But I’m just happy someone cute messaged me back. So today has been a good day!
re: ...the creed of the seamstress is that you're pretty in pieces
By Sumayah
On Tue Oct 31, 2017 10:32 PM
I haven’t had a good Halloween.

The weather has been all over the place and stress made for a whole new migraine experience. I presently have my usual migraine right now. It’s that pain over my right eyebrow, behind my right eye, and at the base of my skull on the right - a connected point of consistent pain that distorts my vision, causes light sensitivity, and makes me nauseated. Presently it’s at bearable levels of pain. I’m not nauseated, but my head distinctly hurts and I feel overly warm/feverish. I’ve been feeling this way since yesterday.

Friday night I went to a concert and froze. Saturday I didn’t feel super well. I went to bed at 9:30 and slept 10 hours and woke up at 8:30 the next morning. I had been getting a headache Saturday and I still had a headache on Sunday. I went to brunch even though I didn’t feel great. I overate on pumpkin seeds and by the time I got home I felt awful. I was nauseated from eating too much and my head really began to hurt.

My head hurt. Hurt. That’s such an understatement. By Sunday night the pain was debilitating. It hurt across the entire top of my head, my forehead, the base of my skull, my neck, my shoulders, just everything was in so much pain. B actually felt so bad for me he massaged my shoulders amd neck to loosen things because I was this close to asking to go to the hospital. He gave me the neck traction device to see if that would relieve some pressure, but it made it worse. I sat up, almost passed out and then went and threw up. The pain was so intense.

Monday I went to work and Dr G adjusted me three times. The third time, I had a near panic attack because I got suddenly overwhelmed with sound. There were three conversations going on, a baby crying, music playing, an animatronic witch talking, a motion activated candy bowl talking, and my own typing click of keys and everything sounded so. loud. So Dr G worked on my scalp and noticed that my suture joints were flat and not moving at all, basically they were inflamed and stuck. She had me lay on ice while she worked on them and the heat I’d been radiating like a fever dissipated. I went home after that.

That night while that migraine was still active, the migraine I’ve got now crept in. I got up to shower and my head hurt so much that I lay face down on the floor next to the bed. Where I fell asleep. And scared B half to death. He woke me up thinking I had passed out or collapsed or something. No, I intentionally lay down there because moving hurt too much. But I made it into the shower and washed my hair and then went to bed.

This morning I woke up and migraine #1 was gone but migraine #2 was in full force. I called in sick to work. I couldn’t drive. I could barely focus my eyes. My ears were full of static and my vision was covered in snow. I didn’t make it out of bed until after 2pm today. And even then I only made it to the couch.

I had wanted to hand out candy but that didn’t happen. I put a bowl of candy out on the front step. I refilled it once and when I went to check ot to refill it again, the bowl was gone. Welp. Oh well. I’ll have to buy another cauldron for next year. It’s not like it was expensive, but who takes the whole bowl!? You dump the bowl. You don’t take the bowl. Meh.

All right. My head still really hurts. I’m gonna go.
re: ...the creed of the seamstress is that you're pretty in pieces
By Sumayah
On Wed Nov 01, 2017 01:33 AM
It’s 2:30am and I actually feel pretty alright. I’m sore and headachy, and body achy from lying down all day. But the migraine feels like it’s passed. Only bad thing is that I work all day tomorrow. And I can’t call out sick. Even though I sort of feel like I should. Because I’m going to get no sleep. And despite that I didn’t do anything today and rested, I’m exhausted. Migraines. :/
re: ...the creed of the seamstress is that you're pretty in pieces
By ChristinePremium member
On Wed Nov 08, 2017 09:39 AM
Just checking in to see if you are ok.

I hope all went well with the new arrangements.

You are in my thoughts and in my heart all the time.


Keep On Dancing*
re: ...the creed of the seamstress is that you're pretty in pieces (karma: 1)
By Sumayah
On Wed Nov 08, 2017 02:26 PM
I'm okay? It's been a hard week.

Wednesday I was in postdrome and that's always rough. If I could have stayed home, I should have, but unfortunately my coworker was out and I was it. So I worked all day but I felt genuinely awful.

Thursday I felt better.

Friday I broke down. I sat on the stairs and looked at all the moving boxes and cried.

Saturday B moved out. It took a while longer than I was expecting. My friend A came over and we had a sleep over.

Sunday I was okay for a while and then I wasn't.

I purged and cleaned my bedroom and closet. Until 6:30am.

I called out from work Monday.

Tuesday was better.

Today is better.

The house is lonely.

I need B to finish getting his stuff so I can make the house mine again. Because until his stuff is gone I can't reclaim it.

I'm tired. Really, sincerely tired.

And I've put almost $6000 on my credit card since September.



re: ...the creed of the seamstress is that you're pretty in pieces
By ChristinePremium member
On Wed Nov 08, 2017 04:11 PM
So.... here is the advice you didn't ask for....

Celebrate you!

For just a moment, think how hopeless we all felt a year ago. Fear, doubt, depression....there was NO HOPE that anything would change for FOUR. LONG. YEARS.

Well... that's how I felt....

Last night, a transgender woman beat a homophobic man in an election, Virginia and New Jersey both threw the GOP out of the Governor's mansion.... do we still have a sociopath in the White House? ... Baby Steps!

Right now, all the emotions you have been too strong to process are trying to make a break. Soooo normal.

This isn't the first time B. has made you feel sad, hopeless, angry at yourself, and full of self doubt, is it?


But guess what? It may be the LAST.

If you have to take a roomate to pay down your credit take a roommate.

If you have to have a tag sale to raise some quick do it. You'll never miss it.

A year from now this will all be behind you.

And if you are still up for it.... my husband and I will crash your Mod Reunion in the Spring, buy you dinner, tell you some stupid jokes, and give you a few real life hugs....and then it will be all better.

This is the hardest part.

You are strong.

You are smart.

You are going to be just fine.

We all love you.


Keep On Dancing*
re: ...the creed of the seamstress is that you're pretty in pieces
By hummingbird
On Fri Nov 10, 2017 02:45 PM
I hope you're starting to feel more positive about this brand new section of your life, just as Christine says, you've accomplished so much in this past year.
re: ...the creed of the seamstress is that you're pretty in pieces
By Sumayah
On Fri Nov 10, 2017 10:11 PM
I was doing okay until he showed up to get more stuff today. Then I digressed into self-loathing pretty fast.

Spoiler: Show

No matter what complicates our lives,
one thing is pure and simple...

I love you hearth and soul.


I know that the past couple of weeks have been hard on you, they've been difficult for me as well. I also know that you're reading this thinking, "I appreciate the gesture but with you hadn't spent the money." I had cash on hand and would rather spend it you than fast food.

Right now I know that our life together will not be easy, but I have faith in our love. Thru all these small problems and situation, our relationship has strengthened and our trust in each other has deepened. Everything changes in life, money problems will come and go, work will come and go, things wear out and break and life continues on - I know that we will continue to grow and change but I believe that our growth and change will be positive.

I love you so much that it almost hurts, you've helped start me to become a better person. I can't imagine life without you and I know that August 30th seems like an eternity, but I am yours completely and anything that comes up that stress us and makes life unbearable will only make us stronger.


Spoiler: Show

-no date-
is like an unwelcome
house guest that shows up
on your doorstep when you
least expect it.
It takes up all your time
and energy and wants you
to entertain it------
as if you don't have other
things to do!
It keeps you UP at night
wakes you early in the morning
and drives you crazy.
And then it doesn't have
the decency to know when
to LEAVE!'

Just wanted to let you know
that I see what you're going through,
and I'm here for you.


I know I could have just handed this to you, but I'm never home when you get off from work and I thought it would brighten your day a little bit. Always know that 1st, I love you no matter what; 2nd, I may not always say it but I really appreciate all that you do - lawn, finances, cleaning, pets, etc., and 3rd, I'm always here and if something starts bugging you, let me know and I'll try to be mature and uncomplaining.

I know that's one of my biggest personality glitches. In a year's time, I've only improved from how I was in some thing. Some great improvement, some minor improvement and as the years go by, hopefully I will keep getting more wifely. I knw I still have a lot to improve but everything will come around. I love you so much and I hope I don't add too much to your stress level. Anyway, have a good day and I'll see you tonight!

<3 love,

Spoiler: Show
Happy Anniversary to my always.

From your forever.

B, Happy 1 year Anniversary! I love you so much. <3 If we can make it thru this year, we can make it thru anything. I love you always and forever!


Spoiler: Show
Honey -

The Bills just keep comin'.
We're both working hard.

The Sink's full of dishes.
There are Weeds in the yard.

Each day's full of Problems,
the Big and the Small.

Though Most pass quite quickly,
Some Won't budge at all.

But No Matter what happens,
I'll love you Forever...

Our Wedding-Day Knot is still tighter than ever!

Happy Anniversary! 2 yrs =) I love you so much! <3 <3 <3


From even before we got married. I felt like a burden. I know weddings are stressful, but come on. No wonder I'm having such trouble now. Yeah. Those hurt to reread. A lot. I should have never gotten married.
re: ...the creed of the seamstress is that you're pretty in pieces
By Sumayah
On Wed Nov 15, 2017 12:03 AM
I’m way more emotionally fragile than I expected. I don’t know what I expected exactly, but it wasn’t to be lying bed crying right now.

I feel... so very many things. And to feel anything is rough, to feel everything? I can’t do this. I was so depressed for so, so long that emotions are honestly too much. I want to be numb again. I don’t want to feel.

But I have to. I have to. I have to feel and be hurt and be angry because years of not feeling is why I stayed for so long.

This had been said multiple times by multiple people and I’ve sort of shrugged it off because I’m not equipped to handle the meaning of the words, but it’s sinking in.

Mental and emotional abuse.

I don’t want to even face what those words actually mean. But deep down, in the black depths of my soul, I know those words are right. It’s why he flat out refused to let me get care. He used me. No question. I was an object to him. A thing he had sex with and who cleaned and who he yelled at. Manipulated.

And I let him.

I couldn’t see it.

I just... it’s so gross and I let him treat me that way. I played into the abuse cycle, unwittingly, but I did. I could have stopped it sooner, but I didn’t. That’s all on me.

And maybe this is part of everything but I sort of feel like my friends are sick of me. Sick of hearing from me. Sick of divorce drama. I can’t blame them. I’m sick of me too. So I think I’m going on hiatus on social media and texting and everything. Give folks a chance to miss me. Maybe cry it all out.
re: ...the creed of the seamstress is that you're pretty in pieces
By Sumayah
On Thu Nov 16, 2017 09:57 AM
A friend sent me this picture. And it makes me cry. It makes me have so many feelings, so I saved it - favorited it - in my phone.

Yesterday morning I deleted social media except Instagram from my phone. I don’t really use Twitter or Facebook on the computer. Instagram I use for studio stuff too so...

I figure my friends have my number, they can reach me. I’m just overwhelmed. I feel like I’m using my friends horribly to figure my life out. Using them as stand in therapists for me dump my problems onto, so I can talk them out, figure out what’s going on. And that’s really not fair of me, not to essentially say here’s my life and my baggage and I don’t know what I’m doing so help? Because, first my friends are there to, yes, listen and support me, but I’m needing more than support and they aren’t qualified to help. Second, they have their own lives and problems and I’m not asking at all how anyone else is. I’ve yet to ask anyone else how they’re doing, if they’re okay, and that’s so selfish of me.

So, to my friends, I am sincerely sorry. I’m sorry I’ve been so needy and so high-maintenance. I’m sorry I can’t seem to deal with my life without a chorus of support and even then my self-doubt doesn’t believe it. I know I’m exhausting. It’s exhausting just being me right now. So yeah, I’m going to retreat for a while, lick my wounds in private. Or the privacy of my public diary... ๐Ÿ˜’

I am so very tired.

My body feels heavy. My shadow feels heavy. Like I’m dragging it around. It is preceding me and following me; it’s this weighted, grounded thing that makes it hard to get out of bed, to focus at work. I am a creature of darkness, where your shadow slips and blends into the walls, the floors, where your body is disconnected from oppressive light anchoring you to earth. Maybe in darkness you float? Maybe in the dark you disconnect from the gravity of your life and you hover just above your reality. Maybe that why I like the darkness, the quiet solitude of night, of shadowy corners and unlit spaces, because it allows me to not have to engage with myself, I can live a second life, a split second above and behind my real one. Disassociated and disconnected.

I keep all the lights in my house off. Unless they are required to be on. And even then I’m more likely to have an adjacent light turned on verses a direct light. There is too much brightness in the world. The light hurts, it blinds, in burns. Light it harsh. It shows how very alone I am. How very broken I am. All the cracks and chips in my soul are laid bare in the daylight. The blackness of my soul is washed out and faded, a photocopy of what it used to be. In the darkness it blends, my soul, they worn corners and frayed edges blending into the shade and it doesn’t look so tired. In the light, it’s this sad thing, I’m this pathetic replica of who I could have been.

In the overhead light I look old. The grey hairs obvious, the lines on my face indelibly etched. I dye my hair. I moisturize my face. But I don’t care about the lines. The are years of emotional erosion, they are my battle scars. Some women have smile lines - laugh lines - and those are beautiful. If you have lines st your eyes and mouth from years of happiness, those are wonderful marks to carry. It shows that you have been joyous and blitheful despite whatever obstacles and challenges your life has presented. My lines are from scowling and from squinting, from frowning. Even my skin shows evidence of the damage I’ve inflicted on my body. The dark patches on my forehead, signs that my adrenals don’t function properly anymore. The eczema on my hand - it gets painful and cracks and bleeds. But those smooth away, blend away in the night.

I am so very tired.

I am still in bed at nearly 11am. I can tell I’m depressed. Even on antidepressants I am depressed. It’s not bad. Not as bad. I just feel overwhelming melancholy. I know that’s why I’m closing people out of my life. Why I’m isolating myself. I know it and I’m doing it anyway because I’m tired of being burden. I feel like a burden. Like what even is the use? I’m a terrible friend. I take. I don’t give. I try to be available but I feel like I’m always so selfish that I’m never actually listening to my friends. I’m so busy trying to solve their problems that I miss the lart where they’re emotionally trying to connect with me. And by the time I’ve figured it out, they’re done trying to connect.

I am so very tired.
re: ...the creed of the seamstress is that you're pretty in pieces
By Sumayah
On Thu Nov 16, 2017 03:22 PM
Edited by Sumayah (204191) on 2017-11-16 15:45:54 fixed formatting
I think it’s worth mentioning that all the things B got on me about, not picking up after myself, not cleaning, not caring, I’m doing just fine with now that he’s gone. Dishes go in the dishwasher. Laundry gets done when it needs. I run Sparky. I scoop the litterboxes. I take out the trash and recycling. I make the damn bed.

It’s like since he left, I don’t have this oppressor over me. I’m not going to get in trouble. I’m not going to wait to hear “thank you for doing the dishes” or “the house looks nice” as if I desperately need that approval that I’m doing a good job as a wife. I’m not cleaning in dread because I know if I don’t I’ll hear about how I don’t care about him, care about the the house, how I only care about me. And I do it so that I don’t end up hearing about my laundry list of faults and transgressions throughout the years. How I’ve made his life hard. How I’ve taken his health away by not contributing my fair share. How he’s going to have a heart attack before he’s 50 because he is under so much stress and part of that stress is how I cannot be consistent. How I try but ultimately don’t love him enough to be consistent in keeping the house clean, the dishes done, my body available, my person at home for his companionship - though on his terms, at a distance.

So I guess my dysfunction is direct correlation to how unhappy I’ve been. Because even though I hurt now, and I hurt, oh man do I hurt, I’m not coming home with dread, with a sense of sinking. It took me until today to break down the boxes the mattresses came in, I got them on the 4th, but I did it. I had no one giving me snide comments and underhanded remarks until I finally did it because it was causing contention. I did it because I was ready to. On my timetable. Because it was when I was ready to process it.

So my dysfunction was me. The problems between us were very decidedly me. And before you jump in and tell me no, hear me out. I’m not saying it as negative. I’m saying that for all my trying to make things better, to make things right between us, deep inside me, I knew it was wrong. I knew it was dysfunctional. So my best wasn’t. It wasn’t my best because deep inside, in my heart I knew this couldn’t continue. So maybe my subconscious sabotaged the relationship. With reason. Because I am capable and enough, but the dynamics were so oppressive, it was such a... a... possessive relationship... no. Not possessive, possession. I was a thing he collected. A possession. And I was a thing that didn’t fulfill its purpose. I was defective and faulty. And of the things he hates, he hates when his collectibles, his possessions, are damaged. And I was damaged. I didn’t do my job the way I was supposed to, I didn’t make his life easier. I was the worst thing, an inconvenience.

Shit you guys.

God I hurt. My heart hurts. Tears are falling down my face and instead of retreating, hands on face, hiding, I’m gripping my chest, my heart, because I HURT so much.

I am not okay. I’m glad I’m working from home because I feel an emotional truck hit me. I am very definitely not okay.

Here. Here’s the text fight that happened between us a few days ago. I’ve already shared it with my friends, dropped it on them to process and deal with. Because that’s a totally cool thing to do. +rolls eyes+ Yeah. I’m possibly the worst person to have as a friend because this is the stuff that shows up and I’m just like HERE YOU DEAL WITH THIS.

Here’s some background to all this. Nov 4th B moves out and my friend A comes over and has a slumber party with me on my comfy new bed so I’m not alone. Sun, Nov 5th, she goes home and I start cleaning up my room and organizing. I realize I need cross beams for the support under mattress, it’s precariously resting on the rails and a corner already slipped off. Right before the DIY store closes, I make a mad dash to get 1x3s cut to length. So, the mattress is pushed off the bed and folded over on itself, the support is standing on its side, basically disassembled - you can walk through it. My wallet is on the bedside table. Whoops. Well, with 10 minutes before they close, I discover my wallet is not in my purse. I fly home and get out and B is there getting stuff, and I push past him and run through my bedroom and through the support and grab my wallet and down the stairs and back in my car to try to best the clock to the store before they close. The boards are cut, I just have to pay. I get there too late, but they let me in anyway and I pay and go home.

I get a call from B making sure everything is okay, that no one is in the hospital or anything. I explain that no, I was racing against the clock, I literally didn’t have time to stop and explain while as I was there. He asks what I was getting and I tell him that too, even though really it was none of his business. I’m just so used to having to justify and explain to him... so I tell him I was getting slats for the bed. And he makes a snide comment about my brand new mattress, how it looks really pathetic. Mind you, I let him take the TemperPedic expensive mattress that got paid off with the money from my car instead of paying on Fia. I let him take it because I don’t want it. He can have the mattress I bled through onto. The mattress we had sex on, frequently unenthusiastic, compulsory sex. He can take it. But he had to go and make some shitty comment about my mattress (that is so comfortable and I LOVE by the way) and it just pushed my buttons.

I got home and I cleaned. And I arranged. And I did laundry. And I scrubbed. And I moved furniture. And I removed him from the bedroom. I removed his leftover things from the closet, the bathroom. I removed him. And at 6:30am I hadn’t slept. I showered and dressed for work and got in my car and burst into tears. I called out from work. I went to bed and slept. I rested all day Monday. So this picks up Tuesday.
Spoiler: Show
Tues, Nov 7, 4:38pm
B: Why were the cats sequestered?

Me: Because I’m getting them used to where their litterbox is. Why were in there? And did you put them back?
Me: I moved all your belongings out of the bathroom, closet, and bedroom.
Me: B? Are the cats still in the bathroom?

B: I picked up some stuff and didn't see them. They are all still there. Just curious.

Me: Okay. I’m trying to train them where it is.
Me: I don’t want Mayuri getting lazy and peeing on the carpet because the box isn’t immediately right there. It’s like five steps further.
Me: So this week I’m sequestering them while I’m gone so they get used to it.

B: Good plan.

(Let me explain. The litterbox had been in the bedroom, I moved it to the bathroom closet. So after manically cleaning him out of my bedroom, he just strolls on in looking for the cats. I felt real violated. He had been in my space. He had been in my space I forcefully and compulsively removed him from. There was no need for him to walk into my bedroom, but there he was, his presence violating the sanctity of my one place I had extracted his energy from. And I was angry.)[

Tues, Nov 7, 9:34pm
Me: You left my garage door open.

(I work all day and then teach classes. I’m coming home to a two story house, alone, at night, and I find my garage door wide open. There is no key to the door from the garage to the house so it stays unlocked.There’s literally nothing to take, B took everything. But I had to go room by room, closet by closet, and make sure I was alone. Livid. I was livid. I was already angry. Now? Oh man.)

Wed, Nov 8, 5:43am
B: O cheap. I am so sorry. [sic]

Wed, Nov 8, 8:13am
B: Oh crap. *
B: Was everything okay in the house?

(I couldn’t respond. I. could. not. respond. Was everything okay in the house? Not, that must have been scary for you, not I hope no one was in the house. Things. Stuff. Was everything okay. Aka, did anything get stolen. No worries about me being alone walking into my house where there could possibly be an attacker, but, did anyone take stuff? Trust me on this one, he was concerned about the things he still had to get and whether his precious items had been stolen, not whether I was alright. He eventually called my ohone, and then called the office to apologize and I explained to him that walking alone into a dark house where someone might be lurking to attack me isn’t okay.)

Wed, Nov 8, 3:56pm
B: Will you please take any mail that you have in the car out and put it on the pool table? I will need that shower curtain.
B: Nvm. On my desk.
B: I did hit the close button on the garage door yesterday. The garage just didn't close. ๐Ÿ˜ž

(He cannot take responsibility for anything. The garage door has been acting up and he know it. You have to watch to make sure it closes and doesn’t reverse open.)

B: And I do not want this booze.

Me: I’ll keep the alcohol, it was yours so I didn’t want to assume.
Me: How many more trips do you have before you have everything? Will you have everything out by Saturday? I know the pool table goes on Saturday, so will you be able to come back and get the rest of everything?

B: I will try. I need to get tools, music, rest of the drums, and odds and ends. Just give me some time please, I am not being a slouch.
B: I have been trying to get all of this done as soon as possible.

Me: What tools? You cleared out all the tools in the front closet.

B: In the shed

Me: How many more?
Me: If you have the time, make a couple trips and grab your drums.

B: Why the rush??

Me: I’ll take my cds by Friday.
Me: Because I need to have some semblance of order in my life and the coming and going and chaos is really wearing on me.
Me: I want to get the downstairs cleaned and organized and I can’t right now.
Me: I want my own space. Before anyone else is here. I want some time to just myself. And I don’t want anyone in my space. I need that. So yeah, the sooner your stuff is gone, the sooner I get to have space alone to myself and get to have some separation. And some boundaries.

B: I can understand that. I am working as fast as I can.
B: Please keep in mind that I do not get paid time off. This has been very hard on me. I had to help the movers move because they were short a man. I had to pay an electrician to fix the electricity on your house.
B: I am not young anymore. I have tried very hard to be considerate of you through this. Please be patient.

Me: I have been patient. I’ve been patient. I’ve been generous. I’ve gone out of my way to be accommodating. And I’m done. And I need this to be done. I need you to have everything finished this weekend.

B: I was out way before December. I am working on it. I will try to get it done as soon as possible.
B: Please don't hate me.
B: My body needs rest.
B: You have separation. I moved. I no longer share your space, your bed, your bathroom.
B: I don't want to have a heart attack.
B: What time will you be home tonight?

Me: I have class. Not until almost 9.

B: The drums will be gone by tonight.

(Saturday morning at 9am he and movers were there to get the pool table. Which was fine, we had discussed that. I expected them. I went to work, came home and started to clean the downstairs and organize furniture. Removing him from my downstairs. As I did and I went looking for stuff, I was left realizing the extent of everything he had taken.)

Sat, Nov 11, 1:19pm
Me: Yeah, I think you’re done getting stuff in the shed. Get the power washer if you haven’t and the table in the garage. The rest stays.

B: Okay.

Sat, Nov 11, 7:13pm
Me: Gonna be a bitch about this, but you couldn’t leave *one* of the stud finders? There were several.

B: [Auto-Reply] I'm driving right now - I'll get back to you later.

Me: And why the frick did you take all the ladders!?
Me: Did you take the big ladder just because? You’re not going to use that in your job, it doesn’t fit in the mini, meanwhile if I have to trim the roses or change the lightbulb in the entryway I’m out of luck.
Me: Since you can’t bring that one back, bring back the costco ladder.

Sat, Nov 11, 11:29pm
B: I will bring one of the stud finders back. One was stuck to the tool box. I have been so rushed to get things out by you, I didn't notice.
B: You have a long pole cutter for the rose vines in the shed. You also have the small step ladder. I did not take all the ladders.
B: Take a breath.

(I was angry and exhausted and went to bed at 10:30pm and slept until 9am on Sunday because I clearly needed the rest.)

Sun, Nov 12 8:18am
B: Did anything come for me in the mail?

Sun, Nov 12 9:08am
Me: I need one of the ladders back. The step stool is not going to let me change lightbulbs. That was real petty. Bring one back today.

B: It was not petty. I need it to clean my ceiling fans and hang my pictures.

Me: You need two ladders to do that?

B: The Werner I will need when I buy another house. Your Dad has a ladder. Just borrow it and keep it.

Me: No. That is so unbelievably selfish. You took it so I wouldn’t have it. Meanwhile when it came to boxsets you tell me, when you’re ready to watch them, let me know and you can borrow it.

B: I meant that.
B: You kept the coffee maker, dinner were, animals, house, shed, sprinkler system and many things. I get stuff too.
B: Ware*
B: Pots and pans, pizza stone, cookie sheets

(By the way, he loves to use my words and throw them back in my face. The “I get stuff too” was my line. I told him that when he threw a fit because I wanted some of the games and movies - of which I have a small, small, small fraction of that he allowed me to have. (When I say small fraction, I mean I maybe got 1/32 the movies and games? Maybe less? Probably less. So he said that specifically to hurt me. To get under my skin and use my words back on me as a weapon.)

Me: You took an item that you cannot use for an undetermined time that I can use.

B: You don't really need that ladder. You are just being petty and selfish.


Me: Yes, yes I do.
Me: [picture of light fixture that is a story and a half off the ground on a vaulted ceiling]
Me: How to frick do I change that light bulb with a goddamn stepladder!?

B: Did my Lysol come?
B: You can get a light bulb changing pole at Lowe's. They are cheap.

Me: No. It goes inside the glass. I had to use the warner to put it up.

B: When the bulb needs changing again, you can borrow the ladder.

Me: No. You bring me a ladder back today.

B: I am not your slave.

Me: You took them both. I’m also trying to reach stuff I need a ladder for.

B: Then borrow your dad's. I don't have time today.

Me: Okay, you want to play it that way? Here how this works. You are done here. I will notify you when you have any packages. I need my keys and garage door opener back.
Me: I will make a pile of your things and you can get then when I’m available for you to.

B: You are being very petty and childish.
B: I will drop off your keys the next chance I get. I am going to key the garage door opener to my new garage door so I am going to keep that.

Me: No, bring it back, get your own.

B: I have my own. I already replaced many things. I can't afford any more.

Me: That belongs here. That comes back to me.

B: It belongs in my car. Where it's always been. You kept all of my babies. Be happy. You can replace one remote. You are making a bigger deal out of this than it needs to be.

Me: No, I don’t think I am. I trusted you to take fairly. I didn’t question or look at what you took. Because I had sympathy for the fact that you were having to leave. And I now I feel taken advantage of. So no, I don’t feel like I’m overreacting at all. I have sofas that stick like cat piss I can’t sit on, dishes that are cracked and chipped, silverware that is missing and mismatched, towels that are 16 years old, a shed and sprinkler system sure, but I also owe over $100000 on the house I will have to pay off myself. You walk away with a fully paid off car, I don’t. You walk away with expensive items. So really, I think you can give me back the remote to the garage.

B: And you were going to lock me out anyways. That's why you demanded everything be out by this weekend. This doesn't need to be ugly Sumayah. Please calm down.
B: You wanted a divorce. I said okay and did my best to be considerate of you and get myself and my stuff out of your space.
B: I hurried my timetable on getting my drum stuff and pool table out so you could do whatever you needed to do. I paid someone to fix the power in your house.
B: I have been understanding and supportive throughout this process.

Me: You paid to fix the power in the house because you had the AC on, all the lights and fans on and all the doors open and it stressed the system.

B: You turned the vacuum on which stressed the system.
B: Not everything is all my fault all the time.

Me: Dude nothing is ever your fault.

B: I have said I am sorry to you I don't know how many times. That is not fair and you know it.
B: I will bring you back your remote.
B: But these demands and this anger at me are over. I want to make sure I get the last packages coming to the house and I wont be bothering you anymore.
B: You took my wife away from me. You too my home. You took my babies [cats].
B: If you want the ladder, you can have it. You will need to come pick it up though. I can't get it to you in my car.
B: And I can't afford to pay someone to bring it back.

(That. That right there. “You took my wife away from me.” I was a collectible. An object. A checkmark on his lifelist of things to have. I couldn’t even respond to that. I was so aghast. So instead, I texted my sister and asked if I could borrow her truck to go buy a ladder. I haven’t even had coffee yet. I go downstairs and discover the stud finder laying on the stepladder and a pile of mop heads for me.

He had been into my house to get things while I was asleep. He had come into the house without notifying me between me going to bed at 10:00pm and waking up and 9am.

So I sat on the stairs and I looked up a locksmith service. Within an hour a locksmith came out and rekeyed the front door locks, back door locks and garage door to the house all on one key. I reset the number pad combo to the garage and doors. And then my sister took me to the DIY store where I spent $300 buying ladders. Because telescoping ladders are expensive, but necessary when you have a two story house.

As I told my friends in the group text, it wasn’t the ladder themselves. It was the principle. And how representative it was of the marriage as a whole. And even then, I wasn’t sure I wasn’t overreacting. I actually texted Saint M to get her opinion because I knew she’d tell me honestly if I had jumped straight to Defcon 5 and skipped over reasonable reactionary responses. She was like no dude, of all the times, absolutely not. That was appropriate.)

Mon, Nov 13, 12:04pm
B: I left all of my keys and the garage door remote in the garage. I could not get the door to shut. So I manually pulled it down.

Mon, Nov 13, 1:10pm
Me: That’s fine. Thank you for returning them.

B: I texted your Daddy to try and shut the door. I didn't want anything to happen to them. May I have my safe key back please?

Me: When I find it I’ll put it in the box with your stuff.

B: Okay. Thank you.
B: Am I still welcome at the office? I have so many new bills. I would still like to see Dr. G if it's okay?

Me: No. You should find a new chiropractor. Your notes and xrays can be sent to whatever doctor you choose.

B: Will you send me an email address for Dr. G? I just want to personally thank her for everything she has done for me.
B: Please?

Me: [work email]

B: Thank you. When will [lawyer] have the paperwork for us to sign?

Mon, Nov 13, 6:22pm
B: Have a minute to talk?

(He calls, we talk. This is the last phone conversation I will have with him. I tried to explain to him the egregious error of coming into the house while I slept with out telling me he was coming. He didn’t understand. I knew he wouldn’t. He actually said “It’s not like I would do anything.” First off, the fact that you don’t understand boundaries is a problem. Second that you immediately think I’m worried about you attacking me? raping me? is insulting. I know he wouldn’t touch me. He ends up turning it on me, telling me I’m overreacting, that I’m doing it to hurt him, to make him miserable, to keep him from the cats. He hangs up on me. Whatever. I blast some Beyoncé “Sorry” and drive home. Well, with one important stop on the way.)

Mon, Nov 13, 6:32pm
B: You just want to hurt me now and I do not appreciate it. I hurt enough.

Tues, Nov 14, 6:08am
B: I did tell you ahead of time I would be there at 9am for the pool table on Saturday.
B: And if you want to talk about being fair about the ladders, than why don't I have any of the cats? How fair is that?

(I just stopped responding. Because clearly a scheduled, agreed upon appointment is exactly the same as dropping by unannounced while I’m asleep. And he doesn’t have the cats because he didn’t fight for them. Not even a little bit. He said he would have a pet deposit and pet rent and since I make their food it made sense for me to keep them. He just asked to see them from time to time. And back before all this happened, I sincerely thought we might be able to be friends with some time and distance first. But now?)

Tues, Nov 14, 10:08am
B: Please just leave my packages out on the front porch. There should only be 3 more at most coming to your house.
B: I will just grab them as they come.

B: [voice mail: voice to text] Hey what's up man. I would like to come and pick up the music in my snow Sunday please. Whatever time is fine just let me know and I'll come when it's convenient for you if it's okay I'd like to take the car that vacuum my mom gave that to me and I'm gonna need to know because neil-it(?) just doesn't work any more. If you wanna keep it I suppose that's alright just let me know and I've actually [Long msg Call MBOX Voice Writer service]

(Basically, he’s asking for a vacuum cleaner he left because the one he took doesn’t work real well. Nope. Not gonna happen.)

Me: I’ll leave packages you on the front porch. Will figure out the rest later. Tuesday/Thursday I work for Dr R, I stay busy.

B: Thank you.

Wed, Nov 15, 9:09am
B: Is it okay if I come by sometime on Sunday please?

Me: Yes, Sunday around 1? I’ll have your things ready for you.

B: Okay.
B: I would like that gurren lagan wallscroll in the hallway. I would like the riccar too please. I would also like the blue drawer holder with the labels in the shed if that's okay please.
B: Thank you.

Me: The wallscrolls I will have ready for you, the vacuum and organizer in the shed stay.

B: Okay.

Wed, Nov 15, 11:18am
Me: I have an amazon package delivered today, so if you do as well, please check names.

B: I will. I will try to remember to bring the riccar [vacuum] bags to you on Sunday. You may want to remind me. Had a lot going on and migraines.

Wed, Nov 15, 3:54pm
Me: When the 60 days is up is when you’ll need to sign stuff.
Me: I just heard back.

B: Okie dokes. Thank you.
B: So round about December 15th then?

Me: Np, he’s been in court and hadn’t had a chance to respond.
Me: Ish? Maybe sooner?
Me: Early to mid-December.

B: Okie dokes. Thank you!

So there you go. That’s where I am. That’s how I am. That’s why I cannot stop crying. This is why I’m pulling back from everyone. I’m just done. I can’t. I can’t. Not anymore. I can’t keep dumping this on my friends. It’s not fair to them.

I did some retail therapy. I bought new couches because Mayuri has peed on the sofas and they stink. And also, I never wanted leather sofas. I don’t like leather furniture. So I bought furniture that is mine. I did that on Monday after the phone fight. After he accused me of intentionally hurting him and overreacting. But anyway. I’m not really okay. I’m not really doing so good. I am standing up for myself, for the first time, but it’s hard. I’m ill-prepared to handle to emotions I’m feeling. Feeling for the first time.

It’s hard. I sort of just want someone to curl up with, to hold my hand and stroke my hair. Skin to touch. Warm, soft skin against my own. Even if just temporarily. +sigh+ But alone is good. I need this I guess. Growing and stuff. Growing is good, I’m just tired of being alone. I’m tired of feeling alone. But I know I’ve got to fix myself first. I’m in no position to be anything to anyone right now.

Okay, I think maybe I’m done. I’m exhausted and I hurt and I... yeah.
re: ...the creed of the seamstress is that you're pretty in pieces
By Sumayah
On Fri Nov 17, 2017 12:13 AM
Edited by Sumayah (204191) on 2017-11-17 08:38:49 formatting
Apparently cutting myself off from social media means I have just a whole lot to say. Although I never ate food today. I had two cups of coffee and a beer and that’s it. Oh well.

Okay, so I talked to a friend tonight. But instead of feeling bad about what a bad friend I am and how selfish I am and how I’m so self-absorbed, I specifically made a point to ask about her. And not just because it’s what you’re supposed to do, but because I genuinely care about her and her life. I want to know about my friends. I’ve just been so wrapped up in my own wrongs that I haven’t looked outside my personal sphere.

My friends are pretty much everything to me. And I care intensely about them. And that’s why I stress about whether I’m reciprocating their friendship. Because I know I’m a mess and I’m broken. And I know Saint M is right - her words of tough love and kindness have stuck in my head - everyone is, I’m not special. She said that so gently and with great love, but yeah, essentially we’re all mismatched pieces of chipped china with pieces glued back together and we certainly aren’t dishwasher safe - delicate handwash only. So to walk around feeling like no one else has baggage, that no one else has dealt with these problems is pretty naive. And Naoise gave me some similar kind and gentle tough love. She told me that I took the first of many painful steps, that it’s not going to be easy - I’m going to flail about, but I need to be kind to myself. And I needed to hear that. It made me cry. But I needed it. All of it.

I have realized that B really tried to screw me over.
Spoiler: Show
Me: We had two Xbox Ones. Why didn’t I get to keep one?
Me: Same with the Nintendo 64. There were multiples.
Me: And one of the psps is mine.
Me: You left me a wii but didn’t leave any of the parts - like the sensor bar.
Me: When you come over on Sunday to retrieve your things, bring my things back with you. If there were two consoles it was agreed I was to get one. And you did not do that. You need to make that right.

B: I will take care of it. On the Verizon account, what is the name of your best friend?
B: I need to access it to get it changed over please.

Me: [name]

(Okay, really? My best friend. He seriously is questioning who my best friend is. I figured that was obvious. Yes I have a lot of friends, and yes, a few of them I consider among my best friends. But my OG best friend? My ride or die? He doesn’t know that? Okay.)

B: Thank you. There should be a Wii bar in the closet that was formerly my office.
B: The [cell phone company] bill is still $212
B: I will need half of that paid.

(I’m pretty sure I’m going to wait until I get my game systems from him and then I’m going to drop it on him that he can cover my half of the phone bill. We’ll call that even for me buying a ladder. I spent nearly $300 buying two ladders. So yeah. He can eat that bill. Screw him.)

But yeah, he really tried to screw me over royally.

But anyway.

I also got my first Christmas tree. :) My sister and I set it up so the cats can start to get used to it and so we can find out whether they’re going to try to climb it before it has ornaments on it.

Alright y’all. I get insurance Friday! Adulting!!
re: ...the creed of the seamstress is that you're pretty in pieces
By Sumayah
On Fri Nov 17, 2017 08:14 PM
I’m drunk right now. Really, really drunk. I’m sobbing. I really just want to curl up with someone and hold their hand, let my head rest on their shoulder. Just be. But I’m very alone, very drunk, and very in need of attention.

Here’s more to the saga. Because suddenly I’m calling him out and standing up for myself he’s turning both pathetic and vicious.
Spoiler: Show
Fri, Nov 17, 10:47am
B: Tell you what. Why don't you keep all the music and we can call everything stuff-wise square? No more angry texts and no more squabbling?
B: Any money you get from selling the elliptical, you can keep.
B: If you want to leave the gurren lagan wallscroll out on the porch for me, cool. If not, that's okay too.
B: And you can just mail me a check for half of that last Verizon bill.
B: Deal?

Me: Mmm, no? I get half the systems. You agreed to that.
Me: Duplicate systems I second of. [sic]
Me: I get the second of*

B: The music is more than worth any of the stuff you wanted above. I don't have the time for any more of these trips or upset, and I need a break.
B: I know you don't care, but I have to slow it down. There is no other option right now. This has been beyond traumatic. So if you insist on that, than it will just have to be when I can get over there to do it. I won't have time this weekend. Or next week.
B: It will get done when it gets done.

Me: The music will be boxed up for you for Sunday. I’m packing it up today. I will have your things ready by 1pm Sunday.
Me: I expect that when you pick them up, you will drop off a box with the systems that are mine that you should have left for me.
Me: You agreed that if we had multiple systems, I got one. Period. You agreed in the texts above to make it right, so make it right.
Me: I will also have the wall shelves the cds are in available for you.

B: I won't have time this weekend for that. Sorry. I will let you know when I do. It will happen after I get time to rest.
B: I will do that, but it will take me some time. I don't even have any of that crap unboxed yet.
B: I will let you know when a good time is for me and hopefully we can make that happen.

Me: Then I will bring your things to you and you can have the systems ready for me to take on Sunday.

B: I physically collapsed yesterday and broke my t.v.. I have to rest. I do not have any other choice. You will get your stuff.
B: I don't know where they are. They are not unboxed.
B: You are just going to have to wait. You will get your stuff.
B: It is reasonable to let me rest and catch up.
B: You have my babies. You got me banned from Dr. G's. You locked me out of the house even after I was willing to give the ladder and remote back.
B: Please do not take any more pounds of flesh from me. I cannot take any more. I promise you will get your systems after I have had time to rest and after I have found everything.

Fri, Nov 17, 3:21pm
B: You are keeping my mother's riccar [vacuum] which you have no need for. You wanted the Werner ladder which you have no real need for. I worked extra shifts for that ladder. It belongs with me.
B: You can keep the music, the storage with it, anything I have left over there. And I will keep the systems. That's more than fair. And I dont know where those are or when I will physically be able to get them. You locked me out after one week after agreeing that it would take me two weeks to get everything out and done. That was uncalled for, unnecessary and I am not okay with that.
B: I think it would be better if we kept our distance until the divorce is finalized. I need boundaries. I need my privacy. I need to rest. I cannot take any more of this stuff. It's too much. I have been having constant migraines and physically am not doing well. I just need not to hear from or see you. I am sure you feel the same.
B: Please do not contact me again until there are divorce papers to sign.

Me: No, you agreed to give me the systems. You’re trying to screw me over. And I’m not going to let you. I will let you rest, but I will get what is mine.
Me: You will be returned what is yours.

B: You took you number off the Verizon bill and your credit card and stuck me with it. You are the one screwing me here. I just want to be done.

Me: I can still access my account to pay.
Me: How else do you think I will pay off my phone?

B: Then why the hell was the account past due and why did I have to pay the entire balance?
B: Why did you demand I have everything out of the house and when I tried to comply, you locked me out?
B: No. I have been fair, up front and reasonable. You just want to make me hurt and I am not doing it. I am not perfect, but I did try as hard as I could and you just wanted it to hurt. I am done with demands.
B: Please stop contacting me.

Me: I expect to get the systems. Period. They are mine. My property is to be returned to me as originally agreed.
Me: If you prefer, I will ask it to be written into the divorce decree.

B: And I expect to get the Riccar and the Shed organizer. Period. No, you are not agreeing to to return everything to me and I am not playing this game.
B: Write anything like that into the divorce decree and I will hire a lawyer. I am done.
B: Stop contacting me and stop threatening me.
B: It would be healthier for us both to not be in contact. Just sign the paperwork and go our separate ways. You banned me from Dr G's which was not okay.
B: And you locked me out of the house before I had all of my stuff which was not okay. We need ditance. [sic]
B: Distance*
B: I am not going to try to make your life any more difficult than it already is and I expect you to do the same. And with that I will leave you alone. Please leave me alone.

I know it’s empty threats. The law is on my side. He’s not going to get a lawyer. And yes I’ve been screen capping all these conversations just in case. But because I’m standing up for myself, he’s throwing a fit. And I’m really emotionally unstable. I went out for drinks with A and I’m really drunk right now and super vulnerable. I’ve been crying because... I don’t know why. Because I just need someone. I just need someone right now and everyone is too busy for me. Their own lives are too complex and exhausting. And I know it’s completely selfish, but I just want five minutes, five minutes to talk and not feel so incomprehensibly alone right now.
re: ...the creed of the seamstress is that you're pretty in pieces
By Sumayah
On Sat Nov 18, 2017 08:18 AM
Last night wasn’t pretty. I was real drunk. I cried myself to sleep in my clothes on top of my bed. My emotional stability was - is - not in a good place. I’ve realized that I’m not emotionally stable enough to be ignored.

Which sounds ridiculous to say out loud. And I feel stupid saying this. But I feel like I at least need to explain my stupid self. You all live an emotionally rich lives. I have not. And right now I am flooded with emotions I don’t know how to process.

And I keep reaching out and wanting - craving? - friendship, a distraction from my everything and my head understands when my friends are busy. When K is sleeping through the day because of her fibro, when friends are at work or taking time to relax at home and don’t want to take on my problems.

Intellectual me understands they have a life and it’s not about me.

That’s the me I know. The me who understands that their lives don’t revolve around me.

Emotional me though. This is new. I didn’t know I even had this in me. But lately when I try to engage and don’t get a response or I get a clipped, quick response my feelings are getting all butthurt. And it’s stupid. It’s so stupid.

I know my friends are busy. I know what their lives are like. I know I’m the one who’s being ridiculous. But goddamn, in the moment? Tears spring to my eyes. And I’m like who the frick even am I right now? This isn’t me.

So yeah. I don’t know what to do with this flood of emotions. But I feel... yeah. I feel. So if you’re reading this and our relationship is weird right now, I mean, I’m trying. I don’t know what I’m doing, but I’m trying. Okay.

Spoiler: Show
(My 1am, drunk response to B. This is all me. Welp.)

Look, if you want to get a lawyer, that is up to you.

I am willing to pay the $300/hr to get back what is mine though.

I would rather not.

I would rather we settle it between us.

However, the law is on my side.

The house was gifted to me before I ever met you. It is separate property. Therefore upon divorce, it goes to me.

That is in Texas law.

You have no claim to it.

You can make a case for the money you put in towards improvements over the years, which given the major items you walked away with, you are being compensated for.

You are leaving with a fully paid off car, the TempurPedic mattress - which I will remind you was paid for with money from my car being totaled instead of paying on my current car that I owe $9000+ on, the pool table, your drum kit, multiple debts were paid off over the years including your student loans.

Personal items were to be divided 50/50

My obvious stuff I kept, your obvious stuff you kept.

However, when it came to things we both used, I trusted that you were evenly splitting the items.

You did not.

It was agreed I would get the duplicate systems.

You did not leave me duplicate systems.

You took both ladders, therefore I had to go purchase my own.

Sure, I could come get it - in my Fiat? Or when you were home and when my sister and her truck were both available. Mmm. I needed a ladder then, not later.

You asked if you could have the vacuum and tool organizer, or not, it was fine, so I said no.

I decided that after everything you took you were done taking.

I changed the locks because you came into my house while I was sleeping and you didn’t notify me you would be by.

I am not talking about Saturday morning with the pool table.

That was an appointment you made with me that I agreed upon.M

I am talking about sometime between 10pm Saturday night and 9am Sunday morning when I was asleep and you came by.

That is unacceptable.

Regardless that you still have things in the house, you do not just come by unannounced in the middle of the night while I am asleep.

This is no longer your house to do that.

So I rightfully felt angry and violated and had the locks changed.

That is not an overreaction.

That is an appropriate reaction.

You know as well as I do that cds do not equal the cost of an xbox one.

Of a nintendo 64.

I am willing to wait until you have a chance to unpack them, before the divorce is complete, to retrieve them, but they secondary systems are mine.

Your cds and belonging will be packed up and returned to you.

Again, I am willing to wait until you are rested to make that exchange.

I am not being unreasonable.

But if you want to start talking lawyers and 50/50 be prepared to part with more movies and games because I very definitely do not have half the collection we obtained in our marriage.

These are not threats. This is Texas law.

I asked for very little and allowed you a lot of freedom when packing and leaving. I allowed you to go through my selections and cull them out.

I did not watch you pack, and clearly I should have. Because you took what wasn’t yours to take and now you’re angry because I’m calling you out about it.

So no, the vacuum and and organizer stay, and when you find the systems mine come back to me and your cds will go to you.

He wants to gey dramatic? Let’s get dramatic.
re: ...the creed of the seamstress is that you're pretty in pieces
By ChristinePremium member
On Sun Nov 19, 2017 08:55 AM
Edited by Christine (207347) on 2017-11-19 09:11:27
Sweetie, I know this is the hardest part....the final tug on the band aid that rips a deep scab.... but the best thing you can do for yourself is to go completely DARK.

No texts, no phone calls.

One retainer to a lawyer from each of you will gobble up the garage sale value of any of your stuff, which is what a "fair market value" assessment by a moderator is going to grant on "Second Hand Rose" assignment.

This isn't about the ladder

or the game systems

or the music cd's

or his mother's dirty vacuum cleaner...

It is about anger at disappointment.

It is about outrage that for the first time he didn't get his own way.

It is about resentment that 14 years later you feel your life with him has consisted of being cheated and used.

This is hard for me to say, and I hope you will not be hurt, angry, or hate me for saying it, but....

If you can, you need to stop drinking until this is over.

You need to be your best self.
You need to think clearly.
You need to able to see the big picture.

Booze prevents all of this.

It allows us to behave in ways we wouldn't if we didn't have "liquid courage."

It provides temporary escape from the pain of the thoughts of the present, but when it's over, the problems are still there and wrapped up tight in drinker's remorse.

What you are going through right now is hard. Really hard. Really, REALLY, hard. You can "win" the big battle, that being a new life free and clear of the destructive emotions of your marriage, or you can fight every little battle (this item or that) and perhaps win half of them (if you are lucky) and pay a lawyer twice the value of all of it by the time you are done.

If you choose this, you will NOT have accomplished the goal you set for yourself when you decided to end this marriage. You will still be bullied. You will still be torn up emotionally. Your thoughts and your heart will still be his.

I love you... I hope you know and believe this. And that is why I offer this, the advice I'd give my own daughter, that you may have peace.

re: ...the creed of the seamstress is that you're pretty in pieces
By Sumayah
On Sun Nov 19, 2017 03:16 PM
Edited by Sumayah (204191) on 2017-11-19 15:46:11
If you can, you need to stop drinking until this is over.

When I drink, I typically have a drink or so, I don't typically drink to get drunk. Friday was special.

What you are going through right now is hard. Really hard. Really, REALLY, hard. You can "win" the big battle, that being a new life free and clear of the destructive emotions of your marriage, or you can fight every little battle (this item or that) and perhaps win half of them (if you are lucky) and pay a lawyer twice the value of all of it by the time you are done.

I'm calling his bluff. Money and things are what he values above all else. I mean that very literally. It's high on the list for reasons our marriage ended. He is not going to pay thousands of dollars to counter-sue. He was trying to scare me.

Thing is, he's very much in the wrong. And the fact that he got so upset about me putting in the divorce decree exactly what I'm owed just shows how scared he is of losing his things. I was happy to play nice, to let him have stuff. On the assumption that he was going to honor our agreements. He did not. And he's been trying real hard to make me kowtow to him and I've had quite enough. Me drawing up an itemized list and asking my lawyer to include it in the decree isn't a big deal. That's standard. We were going to skip it since everything was so amicable. But since he's pulled all this? Nope. We'll do it by the book.

If you choose this, you will NOT have accomplished the goal you set for yourself when you decided to end this marriage. You will still be bullied.

I'm going to disagree with you here. Letting him just take and take and take from me, letting myself continue to be walked on, letting him get away with using me even now? Nah. I am owed my rightful share of our belongings of 14 years. I was willing to go 60/40 with him. He's taken more like 75/25. I want what is mine back. And if it takes showing up with a sheriff to retrieve the items as laid out in the divorce decree, then so be it. I will not be treated in this manner any more.

You will still be torn up emotionally.

Yes. Regardless of what I do, that is a true statement. And I'm very aware that I am not equipped to handle my emotional instability right now. It's why I got health insurance that starts in January and I will be getting therapy to work through everything I can't.

I am also very aware that my emotional instability is putting a palpable strain on some of my closest and most important friendships. I think I'm asking them to have more bandwidth than are capable of giving right now. And clearly, I value my friends and my friendships above any romantic relationship. I chose dance and I chose myself and I chose my friendships over staying in a damaging marriage. I mean that seems an obvious choice, but I literally chose my friendship with K, with Cali, with Saint M, with Naoise, with TheMidlakeMuse, with A and J, with Librarian M, with you, with the people who actually have supported me and held me up when my life was unbearable and I couldn't stand it anymore over the man I married and swore better or worse to. When I take you as my friend I care about you deeply and I will do everything in power to make sure that I don't screw that up.

Your thoughts and your heart will still be his.

Of all the things he has of mine - my Xbox One, my Nintendo 64, my PSP, honestly my movies that wouldn't let me keep - the things he doesn't have are my thoughts and heart. He has my anger. He has my frustration. That's why I got decided to go out and get very drunk with A on Friday. I needed company and I was angry and I knew that going out drinking (safely) was a better choice than sitting alone with my anger.

B has not had my heart in a very, very long time. He gave that up when he actively pushed me away at the beginning of our marriage, when he refused me medical care for my depression. He has had no part of my heart in a long time. What I mistook for love earlier this year was fear.

Fear has been a major emotional motivator for me this past year. The fear of going through this divorce, of being alone. Of always being alone. Of no one ever wanting me. In Pittsburgh, the worst part of my trip was the ten minute waiting for the bus to take me to the airport. Because I was afraid to come home. I held Saint M's hand and I hugged her and kissed her cheek and I told her how much I love her. I cried. Because she is so good. She's such a good human being, such a good friend to me, and watching her interactions with people was beautiful, and I didn't want to come home and face my own problems. I didn't want to leave the easy comfort of her friendship. I was afraid. I was afraid to come home and face B and face finding my words and I was afraid to stand up to him and say I was done. It was easier to hide with good people, to stay with friends who genuinely care than to face my fears.

But I've done it. I said the words. I stared my fears down and let them stir my fire and I used them to rip out my heart. And I threw it like a gauntlet, bleeding on the floor. And it made room for all these other emotions that have come flooding in and I don't know what to with them all. But my friends are pretty much the only thing holding me together. They are constantly in my thoughts. I worry about them, about their lives. I haven't really been on social media since Tuesday and I feel a huge void. I haven't been reaching out a lot because every time I do, I'm just a wreck.

So my thoughts and my heart are with my friends. And despite everything, I'm even reaching out, trying to heal a little, trying to make new friends, at least friendly acquaintances. I'm not looking to pull anyone into my problems right yet. But I'm forcing myself to do it.

I love you... I hope you know and believe this. And that is why I offer this, the advice I'd give my own daughter, that you may have peace.

I know and I do. <3
re: ...the creed of the seamstress is that you're pretty in pieces
By Sumayah
On Sun Nov 19, 2017 07:01 PM
Edited by Sumayah (204191) on 2017-11-19 19:20:24
Edited by Sumayah (204191) on 2017-11-19 19:47:13
Edited by Sumayah (204191) on 2017-11-19 22:48:56
I just typed "Hey, can someone text me?" into my group text of friends who I'm giving divorce updates to and I've tried to send it five times and it won't go. And I'm just crying and shaking and I don't know why and I just want someone to talk to me. About anything. At all. Not about me.

My depression is really bad. Really bad. I'm compulsively picking at my lips, my cuticles... I'm making myself bleed. I can't leave things alone like this. There's a situation, a situation I'm picking at, making bleed. And unlike my body, I HAVE to walk away from this or I will do irreparable damage to it. It's not regarding B. This is all me.

I'd be mad. If got the email I sent this morning I'd furious. What part of exhausted do I clearly not comprehend? Yet here am I am veritably demanding resolution now, on my time. right. now.

But it's this compulsion, this need, this inability to stop.

And I know it's the depression. I do this when I'm depressed.

I pick at my lips until they're raw and get infected and have fever blisters that scar. I pick at my cuticles, I chew the skin around my nails until you can't even touch my fingertips, I peel and rip at my nails and toes nails until the nail bed shows, I pull skin off, deep chunks of skin from my toes - tearing my calluses off, I run my fingernail through my hair and over my scalp and dig out clogged pores until the hair follicles scab over. I do this sort of obsessive self-harm where I pick at myself and I just can't stop. Ripping at my skin, at the imperfections.

And now I'm doing this with a friendship? No no nono no no. No I can't do this. I can't. I can't. I texted. I texted again. I left a voice message. I sent an email. I have to walk away.

I have to.

I'm going to ruin this, my depression is going to ruin this and I can't get a hold of anyone to distract me to just talk to me and I posted about it on reddit in the depression sub and no one has responded and I don't know what to do I want to fix things so badly but I know, I know this isn't me, this is the depression and I need to walk away from it and stop picking. But this is important.

How do I stop? How do I stop this path I'm on? How do I stop without ruingin everything? Help me you guys? I'm sinking and I don't know how to swim. How do I stop this behavior? How do I stop it?

My heart hurts. So much.

ETA: And a friend texts and mood lifts and manic feeling lifts. I mean it's still there, under the surface, but I'm not sobbing incoherently. I should turn on some music. I think I've been in the silence and alone too long.

ETA2: I think blaming my depression is a cop out. I think I need to get a grip on my life. I need to stop picking at my body. I need to stop stressing about this situation. It will resolve when it resolves. Done. Move on.

Also, I think I have Musical Ear Syndrome. Right now I've got tinnitus pretty bad, but just before that it sounded like the radio was on, like I could hear a song playing. I have no music on in the house. This isn't the first time it's happened.

I feel like I'm losing my mind tonight.

Comment #10248280 deleted
Edited by Sumayah (204191) on 2017-11-20 10:19:39
Removed by Sumayah (204191) on 2017-11-20 23:52:00 double post

Comment #10248287 deleted
Removed by Sumayah (204191) on 2017-11-21 00:07:56 Triple post- guys. Itโ€™s doing the thing where it wonโ€™t show a response unless you reply first.

Comment #10248288 deleted
Removed by Sumayah (204191) on 2017-11-20 23:53:34 double post

re: ...the creed of the seamstress is that you're pretty in pieces
By Sumayah
On Tue Nov 21, 2017 12:03 AM
Trigger warning - body horror. I just need to get this out. Sorry y'all. Maybe skip this entry.
Spoiler: Show

I stood there.

The room was quiet, all except for the high pitched whine that was always in my head. I could feel the the 'lub, lub' of my heart in my chest.

It ached. Burned.

I shivered, always cold, and sucked in a breath - the deepest I could manage and said out loud in my brain "one... two... three..." and I exhaled my lungs completely in a scream as I tore through my chest and ripped out my heart and flung it to the floor.

A hole gaped dry, just left of my sternum, and on the ground was this metal armored thing. No wonder I was always cold.

I stared at it.

This box covered in sheets or iron and screwed together. This foreign thing lay there on the carpet, a perfect mechanical representation of what my heart should have been.

My hand toughed the cavity, probed inside, and as I pulled my fingers away, it was dry, all the veins and arteries had been reworked to bypass this monstrosity on the ground.

I knelt down and ran my fingertips over the cold exterior. pressed my fingerprint into the screw-head. I stood abruptly and ran to grab a screwdriver. I needed to know what was underneath. I dropped to my knees and wondered, "Am I alive? How? But am I dead? No? How am I in existence?"

I fit the screwdriver into the tiny grooves of the screw-head and gradually began to disassemble the protective cover. I used my bare hands to pry off the thin sheets of iron; gashes formed from the sharp edges and soft flesh, across my palms and fingers, with blood running down my fingertips and dripping off or becoming sticky prints on the metal fronts.

Eventually I had it uncovered.

There it was. My heart.

But it was crusty, covered in thick scab. Without thinking I let my nails bite deep into the crust of cells and I ripped a chunk of flesh out. And another and another until the flaky brown scab under my nails was bulging out and my fingers were wet with puss.

I vomited bile from my empty stomach. Wretched until I was crying and shaking on hands and knees. I inhaled deeply to stop the vomiting, and the scent of putrescence and disease filled my sinuses and I vomited again until I collapsed to the ground, my hair pooling in the bile and saliva.

Trembling I reached out for the heart. I had to know. I needed to see. Was it rotten through to the core?

Closing my eyes, disassociating from my surroundings, I probed my fingers though the layers of until I felt something solid. I slid my entire hand through the rotten sore and laid it across the flat of my heart.

'Lub, lub'

Still laying on my side, I opened my eyes and scraped my hand gently under the festering scab, separating it from my heart. I sloughed the thick, hard shell with its puss filled, infected slimy center off my heart.

I sat up and looked at it. Four chambers, all filled with debris. I banged the heart onto the floor, loosening the bits of forgotten passion left inside. I shook it all loose and then I washed it down, before putting it - still dripping wet - into my hollow chest.

The pain was unbearable as I ripped apart the veins and arteries and reconnected them with string and glue and bits of tape. I reconnected my heart back into my body.

And I bled.

Blood ran down down my chest and I fainted. I woke up on the floor and burst into tears, connections having sprung loose. I jammed them back in as the blood pooled around me and mixed with the vomit. Finally it was reconnected.

I could feel it, 'lub, lub,' in my chest. I was unable to stand - my blood drained from my body until I was nearly a corpse. I crawled and collapsed and slept there, next to the site of this ritual. When I awoke, my chest was still gaping open and raw, my heart beating slowly, but beating in the hole.

The connections had lasted.

My heart ached, throbbed in pain. So I lay there and went back to sleep. I knew would heal eventually, but right now, I needed to rest and recover. My recovery would be painful and all consuming. But it would one day heal.

Sorry. But that's what I feel like. That's what this divorce has felt like.
re: ...the creed of the seamstress is that you're pretty in pieces
By ChristinePremium member
On Tue Nov 21, 2017 12:08 AM
Just sending you hugs and prayers.

I too want you to be well.

And whole.

And happy.


Things will get better.
I promise.
re: ...the creed of the seamstress is that you're pretty in pieces
By Sumayah
On Tue Nov 21, 2017 12:10 AM
Christine wrote:

Things will get better.
I promise.

I hope so.
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