Wednesday, June 19, 2019

Visit out of the blue

I have mixed feelings about people just dropping by our home.  Most of the time the folks that just stop by are friends that live nearby and drop by when they are visiting another mutual friend in the neighborhood.  Nothing is expected and nothing is awkward.

Last weekend we had surprise visitor from my former step-son.  I say "former" not because I stopped considering my step-sons from my first marriage family when we divorced, but to specify that I am not talking of Zach.  It is odd that I have been rather a permanent step parent since I was 18.  My first marriage (I only have two, don't panic) I was step-mom to two boys, full time, as their Dad had custody.  It was a very unpleasant situation.  The parents did not get along; in fact they actively fought and it was miserable.  I really do not feel like dredging all of it up but it involved courts both civil and criminal.  Looking back now I think that their mother was treated badly and even though she had made mistakes she was never allowed to move forward from those.

My former step-sons, TA and TJ were 6 and 8 when we married, and 25 and 27 when we divorced.  They stopped speaking to me.  Just flat stopped.  Didn't bother to check and see if I was ok.  Didn't call.  Didn't text.  I heard from their respective wives and others things they said about me, but never to me.  They had both been present when their dad cheated on me.  Visiting his mistress with their Dad, while we were married, and never telling me, but telling others.  They made me the subject of gossip but didn't give me the concern or courtesy to tell me what was going on.

TA, the oldest had reached out to me.  He was very honest and very clear in his apology and his wish to make amends.  TJ has not.

TJ showed up unannounced.  While the visit went nicely I am not comfortable with it as TJ is much like his father and for that I do not trust him.  I want to trust him.  I think of him as a 6 year old who couldn't say his "r".  But I remember also the pain he caused me.  The disrespect.  The meanness with which he treated me and his active role in the gaslighting and abuse that his father used against me.  I remember TJ shutting the door in my face when I was scolding him.  I remember the insults.

I do not know the path forward.  I want to forgive but I also do not want to be hurt again.  That is the risk isn't it in forgiving; if there isn't a change in behavior there isn't safety or trust.

Wednesday, February 27, 2019

I was gone but now I am here

I had to set my blog aside while I finished my degree and adjusted to new challenges at work.  I moved into a management position in 2016 and also decided to further my education.

While I can say that I am happy I did it, I can also say I am happy it is done.  My college education has always been done while working full time.  The majority of my schooling has been funded by employer provided educational assistance.  While that is a gift I am grateful for, it did not pay for all and it required me to work full time and school 3/4 time.

Working and going to school was much easier in the 20's than now in my 40's.  All of a sudden I feel my age creeping into my life like mold.  I know it is partly because while pursuing this most recent educational goal I also had major knee surgery, leaving me in a wheel chair for six weeks.  I felt the consequences of my age in fatigue from working and studying but also in the comparison between recovering from a hysterectomy in my 30's quite quickly and recovering from holes drilled into my Tibia in my 40's.

I notice that pushing through pain or fatigue is much more difficult.  Don't misunderstand me I have never been an elite or gifted athlete.  But for my performance level I have noticed the difference.  In short I am a middle aged woman and that reality has snuck up on me.

All of a sudden I am afraid.  Afraid of a bad mammogram.  Afraid of not keeping my mobility if I wreck on my bike.  Afraid that I will not be able to keep doing all of the things that I love doing.

The fear is palpable.  I think it has a root of being older than my Mom ever lived to be and also knowing that my biological mother is a mess.  You may not know I am adopted.  Adopted at birth.  I chose to meet my birth mother when I was 21.

Meeting her was a mistake.  I do not feel like a good human for typing that but it has not provided me with anything other than heartbreak.  I guess that is a different story for a different day.

Sincerely yours,
middle aged scaredy cat bad ass