UnEdited Diary Entry

And then watched it dance all over the surface helter skelter? No, me neither. But I heard it dances all over the skillet surface....Much like I do in any critical situation. I’m trying to remain calm, really I am!  And since I wrote the original post about Kevin’s cancer, I have had downright calm moments! Which lets me know that we are being prayed for, as well as sent positive energy and thoughts. Thank you to each of you who have sent your well wishes, good thoughts and prayers. We covet them all.

We had come to a point where Kevin made a decision about treatment, and then another doctor has him/us doubting that decision, and setting him up for yet another appointment with a different oncologist. The news once again turned me into a neurotic mess!  And it has left Kevin unsure of the next step. I know we just have to jump through all the hoops, and this will take some time. Time, and patience that both Kevin and I are of short supply right now. There just doesn’t seem to be a way to speed this along, and that’s the frustrating part.

We are ready for a break of thinking about cancer, and thinking about cancer treatments, and setting up doctors appointments. But that isn’t going to happen overnight.

We are getting the hell out of Dodge for a few days though. My father turns 60 tomorrow, and we’ll be hopping a plane on Thursday to go spend a long weekend with my parents. Although Washington weather is on my top 10 worst things to experience (at least 10 months out of the year) they have some positively wonderful restaurants and, of course, my family is there. A much needed break from life, and with family who loves us. OK, some of them might fake it, but that’s OK.

Thank you again for all your prayers and well wishes. They have meant a lot to both Kevin and me.

Love,

3T

I haven’t been around to read or comment to most of you this past week. Although I miss reading and adding my two cents, sitting at the computer for any great length of time, or being able to relax and immerse myself in others has been difficult. I have been running on a low grade anxiety that has my (imaginary) ADD going into overdrive. I’m irritated and anxious. Irritated at the unknown future. I know how very little we really have control over a lot of things in our lives, and that is extremely apparent right now.

The person that is close to me who has prostate cancer is my husband Kevin. And yes, there are moments when this just fucking pisses me off! Not really the politically correct response one should have when a loved one is diagnosed with cancer. But it’s honestly how I feel. The root of my anger, I know, is fear of the unknown. And fear of that ever dreaded “c” word. We all know friends or family members who have experienced one form of cancer or another. With every poor outcome, there are those who have battled it and came out of it free of the cancer. And by all indications, that will be Kevin’s experience.

It hasn’t stopped the anxiety though. Or the queasiness that set in for both of us this morning, as we readied ourselves for his first appointment to see the oncologist. I am thankful that Kevin has been up to his eyebrows in work up until today. It kept his mind off this, or even remembering that he had cancer until he woke up this morning. It’s a little hard to stay in denial when you walk into a huge oncologist’s office, and see the many people sitting and waiting for various treatments. Some with oxygen tanks, and others with no hair due to their chemo-therapy.

This is not Kevin’s future, though. With treatment, they should be able to cure him. By the end of this three-hour consultation, we had been so overloaded with information that both our heads were spinning a bit. The key information is there will be no chemotherapy, or long drawn out visits to receive radiation five days a week. Treatment for prostate cancer has come quite a long way over the last couple of decades. For that we are both thankful.

What I did next, that would last for several months, will probably have the few of you I actually have left reading this shaking your heads calling me the crazy bitch! In retrospect, I call myself a crazy bitch! But then if I had done it differently, it might have affected the outcome. And I would not have Kevin and me any other way then what and where we are now.

I wasn’t done snooping, by a long shot. I went through his computer with a fine tooth comb, and what I found only served to make me sicker. I remember when we established that we were exclusively dating each other. And the subtle gesture he made to prove his loyalty. As we had met on Udate, which has a public profile listed of all clients, we were for all intensive purposes continuing to get emails from prospective dates. He let me know he had ended and dismantled his profile on Udate. I reciprocated.

While snooping in his computer, I learned he had dismantled Udate. And then proceeded to sign up for every imaginable dating site I could find and think of. His profiles that I accessed were blatantly sexual in nature, and one of a man who was distinctly on the prowl. While snooping I also ran across evidence that he had paid for a dating site that requires you to pay before you can receive emails. I wrote the site administrators as if I were Kevin, asking for my payment history. My beloved had paid for an email two days before he asked me to marry him. This blow to my ego and my trust in him was so great it almost saw him and his things dumped unceremoniously in my front yard.

In my fit of rage, I dismantled most of the sites, a few I left up and “altered” to make him the biggest loser on the site. Yes I enjoyed a few morbid giggles over my childish gesture. At this point in our new marriage, I was ever so thankful for joint custody. Which allowed me the time to snoop, and to have the eventual knock-down- drag-out-rage-fueled fights that would ensue following the latest Kevin double life revelation.

The ironic thing is that all of his actions were done before we were married. Which I guess in his twisted sense of morality made them excusable. This man catered to my whims, loved me so completely and I know almost to the day when he came to the revelation that he wanted a complete commitment of life till death do us part. It did not change the past, or the lies he told to cover up his past indiscretions, including the ones that saw him playing out his familiar cycle with me. Part of why and how I love, which may seem narcissistic in nature, is how the person you love perceives you. Who you are though their eyes. He had destroyed all sense of my feeling lovable, and loved. I felt he was only a chameleon, and his interests had waned once he knew I had committed to him emotionally, physically and mentally. I was not special. I was one of a long line of females with different features that this narcissist gained his sense of desirability from, and then moved on.

So what did I do next? I invited the Troll into our home for Happy Hour. With him there. My motives for this action changed with my emotions. This would see her coming into our home sporadically for months. I also invited her to one of my “girls night out” events. All the gals from my office were going to see The Vagina Monologues, and out for dinner. Troll went along. I would find more and more things, hunting for the slightest sight of a lie from his past. Each time I found one, I would rage with a vengeance at this man. I emasculated him, humiliated him, called him every fucking nasty name I could strain my brain to hurl at him! I had such deep seeded rage and hatred, that I couldn’t understand why I still loved him. Or, why he stayed.

One of the side effects of having The Troll around so much is the stories she would inevitably tell of how hurt and betrayed she was by the million and one betrayals that Kevin had subjected her to. Which confused me even more. I was a woman, I had empathy for her pain, I felt her pain, and would vacillate back and forth from feeling so overwhelmed with pity and relating to her, to hating her guts. With each passing visit her motives did become more transparent, until basically she was hitting on him right in front of me! I’d had enough! And knew I was playing with fire that would burn us all. (OK, mainly I was concerned about me)

I had quit writing emails to her, unless she wrote me and then try and keep my responses to a minimum. I wrote emails saying things flippantly and derogatory about Kevin or his family, hoping to spark her rage, and make her go away. I knew she kept in contact not only with several of Kevin’s family members but his X-wife as well. Which truly amazed me, since she was the one who gave herself the credit for busting up his marriage.

One of the final straws was when I found Kevin’s big black box, that he had stuck in my shed, far to the back, on the highest shelf. Let me tell you guys something, nothing will stop a woman from getting at something you don’t want her to see, not heights, not the threat of being stung by scorpions in a dark shed, nothing. In that black box I found every love letter the Troll had ever written him over the 16 years, as well as most that came from his X wife as well. As well as a journal detailing his sexual fantasies, and which ones he had actually done. If you knew how he had portrayed himself with me, who he presented as Kevin, it could not have been further from what his past represented.

Of course I accepted his proposal, and was ecstatic! I loved this man, he was my best friend, and for well over a year, I was blissfully happy! I wanted to share my joy, the revelation of a real relationship, not living with deceit, pseudo-relationships and having love in my life. Our announcement was met with guarded congratulations from my family, as they had known of some of my past. And had not gotten to know Kevin to decide whether he was the wonderful man I had presented him as.

Kevin sent an email to his family members back East, announcing his engagement. Most of them had not met me, barring one of his younger brothers and his father, who had made one visit out while we were dating. At first what struck me as odd was not one member of his family had sent Congratulations on his impending nuptials. Perplexed at this lack of initial response, I assumed that every family’s dynamics are different. Admittedly, emotionally it hurt. Which really makes no sense, since none of them had met me, how could I take it personally? My family was supportive, albeit guardedly. Why wasn’t his?

About a week after his email announcement, which is probably not the best way to tell your extended family you will be marrying, I noticed in his email, an onslaught of quick emails and notes from a certain female. Who you now know as Troll. None were anything but innocent, but had a tone, that I recognized as familiar and intimate. Call me old fashioned, but as I had just discovered this late in life, the intimacy I had with my fiance, it made me nervous to see him sharing any with another woman. I hadn’t recognized her name as the casual live in, before he moved here.

This started me to snooping. By now he had moved a lot of his things into my home. As he spent every waking hour with me that wasn’t spent at work, we started the process of moving things from his house into mine. I started by grabbing a box of his “keepsakes,” which are many different newspapers that he had written for, and some from here in Arizona. There was her name on a couple of stories in the paper he worked for. This was all I needed to make me feel sick to my stomach and that maybe I didn’t have the whole story.

I confronted him with his keepsake articles and the fact that he had her articles in this box. He played it off as coincidence. And said the emails he shared with her were innocent, she was just a friend. Thanksgiving weekend came quite a few emails, and one he had written to her in the sent file, that had a definite wistful and intimate tone to it, although the sentiments were innocent enough. Every red flag in me went up! I demanded he end his friendship with his ex-lover. Which began a series of arguments that went clear through to the end of December.

The more I snooped, the more of his past that came to light, that lets just say didn’t resemble what he had revealed to me. The more the emails that came from Troll, the sicker I got. I knew in my gut, in my instinct, this woman wanted nothing more than to break up our engagement, and because my fiance was being less than forthright with me, I felt powerless to do anything about it.

I had another one of my nightmares this morning, which no doubt is the reason I’m sharing the dark side of my romance with my husband. It’s serious, neurotic, full of obsessive compulsive nuance. Yes I believe my husband and I are “meant to be,” are completely in love with each other, and committed two hundred percent. There are more than a few reasons why I believe this, and all of them are not made up of Happily Ever After cliches.

I have here and there mentioned we had “hard times” in our relationship, during year two, never really coming out and saying why.  I’m saying why now, and a good deal of it is not flattering to either of us, but is part of our history and brought us where we are today. My nightmare concerns one of his X’s, that for privacy I will change her name to the nickname we gave her during the height of the melodrama years ago. I know in blog land the word Troll is used mainly for negative and nasty people who leave crap for comments to strike out at others. For Kevin and I, Troll is his X, and has been for years. Not his X wife, but his X live in, who followed him here from back East, well before I ever met him.

During year one, that romance year where all is right with the world, and your significant other can do no wrong, the only information I had on Troll was that he lived with her for about two years, but it was just a casual relationship. He may have mentioned she lived here in Arizona now, but it was not something that stayed with me, as I didn’t believe it mattered, and in the real world of now, it doesn’t. Trying to convince my sub-conscious of that has not been as successful, as my nightmares attest to.

When I met Kevin, it was supposed to be a diversion, some company for a few laughs, as my divorce was far from finished, and I was in no position to start another relationship. Having met him through a dating site, we seemed to click and have a fun rapport from the first time I laid eyes on him. My first thought was well, he doesn’t look like “my type” but I was just looking for a friendship, with possible extra benefits, and it felt so comfortable from the start. I know I had what I call one of my clairvoyant moments when I met him. Those moments when you look into someone’s eyes, and your gut tells you this person will be significant in your life. I’ve had these moments in the past, most involved men that would become my lover, and end up being part of my life for years.

I didn’t take our dating very seriously those first few months, as he was a confirmed bachelor for 20 plus years, and I had more baggage than a cruise ship. Kevin pursued me, convinced me he was falling in love with me, and that he wanted to be part of my and my children’s lives. He proved this through little ways, like driving my children and myself to the therapist I had us all seeing to help them deal with their parents divorcing, which was a 45 minute drive each way.

Go from writing whatever popped into my head, to censoring my posts for offendablility? (For the record, if that isn’t a word, tough-shit!) Ok, first I want to thank all of my blog friends for the Anniversary wishes. Thank-you. I really do love getting to know each of you!

What I have a problem with is me. Funny how what this Bloggiversary did was have me over analyzing shit again, although I see this as not necessarily a bad thing. But I did go back, and read some of my first few months of posts. What I saw, was someone unconcerned and who wrote whatever I felt like. Now? Now, I find myself censoring myself for an offendability scale. “No, I can’t post that, it might offend someone. When did I start caring what the Hell anyone thought of my personal journal?

This was set up as a personal diary, a place for me to dump whatever was on my mind, to re-tell a few stories from my past. This more so, in case I got Alzheimer’s and could no longer remember.(Yes this sounds a little neurotic and morbid, but it still is the truth.) I wanted kids to have a few tales from their mother’s past. And then. Something happened, that probably tells me a lot about myself in REAL LIFE. I censor myself, like I think we may all do at times in life. It’s part of polite society after all. You don’t go to a formal occasion and swear like a sailor. Business dinners or my husbands work socializing, you don’t bring up politics or religion.

In reality, on the whole I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about politics, except to say I think the current administration is slowly eating away at citizens’ rights. And most politicians, in my estimation, have been bought and sold more then a 50-year-old life long hooker! Religion? I have no use for it! It is a collection of tiny little governments. I have often said to my father I saw churches as the pastors’, fathers’ ministers’ (Whatever you chose to call them) little kingdoms. What was preached from a lot of the pulpits is whatever would mass manipulate the crowd into whatever the church leaders’ agenda was. A polluted version of the Gospel.

I found myself sitting here today, irritated with myself, and with my blog.I used to feel revived or satisfied after dumping some shit here. Now I am back to feeling pent up, with nowhere to just let go, when this is the place that was intended for it. I have set myself up again. Usually when I paint myself into a corner, I jump and run! Friendships, relationships, jobs. If I felt the need to censor my words, for my own unhealthy “need to please” eventually I would bail out.

The fact is, this is my personal journal. Where I planned on dumping my bad days, my bullshit, even my overly melodramatic emotions, of which there are tons! My grammar, sentence structure and spelling are NOT that of a journalist, writer or intellectual. Somewhere along the line here, I attempted to “measure up.” And I am angry at myself for falling into that all too familiar trap!

One of the comments congratulating me on my Bloggiversary said something at just the right moment that set me off. He said, “Congratulations to the blog you and the real you.” Well shit! And here I thought it was one and the same. Unwittingly he spoke the truth. My feelings, my concern, my love for so many I have gotten to know are sincere. But I can’t help but feel I have put myself out there as Betty Homemaker, campaigning for Mother of the Year. And that just couldn’t be further from the truth.

I am a high school graduate with very little college, only the minimal technical training I received for the pharmacy technicians training program. I swear like a sailor. My natural inclination is one of a lazy hedonist. I’m one of the moodiest bitches I have ever known! I HATE cleaning house! My computer desk has coffee cup ring stains and ashes all over it, with papers trailing all around me with notes, and bills and the latest 10 catalogs that I might want to order from someday. I have suffered from clinical depression MOST of my adult life that I take medication for. I spent a good deal of my second marriage running around behind my husband’s back and partying like there was no tomorrow. I am a Christian who believes in my salvation, and my need for it! I pray often, daily, for many people as well as myself, and do believe I’m saved whether I swear like a sailor, never do more with my life then what I’m doing right now, never manage to quit smoking, or quit complaining when things are not perfectly the way I want them. I am basically a shitty mother! I love my kids with all of my heart, I want to be a good mother, but my patience by the end of a day with these darling little rugrats is so shot to Hell I could easily walk out the door and not want to come back. I’m high-strung, neurotic and melodramatic. I find laughter and humor in most things others would find offensive. I’m sensitive and care deeply when those I care about are in pain. I want to fix it. I want to be liked. But I want that to be based on who I really am. Bad shitty days, foul mouthed, off-the-cuff bullshit rants and all!

If I have presented any other persona than what I just listed in this previous paragraph, then I have majorly gotten off track from my original intent. And in so doing have short changed myself. I’m not even sure if I can bring it back around to my original intent. I feel I have lost my ability to just be who I am, and vomit words all over this page if I choose to. I really would like that back. I’m just not sure if I can do it.

I’m not sure if I should apologize now, or wait until after the fact. But I have no doubt there will be an apology to make by the end of this Holiday Season, as there usually is. Thankfully we were married on January 3rd, so we go away for one of our mini-getaways following the Christmas Holiday. To celebrate our Anniversary, and to just exhale from all the work that goes by the title Christmas Holidays.

During the preparations for the Holidays, my husband sees his fun loving wife turn into this manic,driven, snarling demon, caught up in the activities of Holiday shopping,decorating, wrapping and cleaning. OK I’m not exactly the one who does ALL of this on my own. But it’s a lot of work bossing everyone to and fro to make sure all is complete and ready for Holiday cheer. To my hubby’s credit, he allows for me to play manager, and he takes on the role of labor. Unfortunately I’m not what you would call a diplomatic boss, which brings us back to the apology I’ll be making.

The mania that will set in like clockwork the day after Thanksgiving, can be seen in my eyes, voice and posture. It will take every ounce of my discipline to not allow it to completely fluster me leading to 1.2 emotional meltdowns. Convinced that if each chore and activity isn’t complete, it will ruin the Holiday for all. In reality, it is my meltdowns that will come the closest to upsetting the balance of Family Holiday Cheer.

This year, I strive to not let it get the best of me. When it builds, to back off and away, take some deep breaths, and relax. Unfortunately what this means to my blog, is I will dump all crazy mania and emotion here. The closet bitch will be unleashed out into cyberspace, where it can’t damage family dynamics. (I’ll make my apologies now)

This year, following Thanksgiving, possibly starting Thanksgiving evening, I will attempt the impossible. Wife, Mother and Holiday Coordinator Extraordinaire.

In my family of origin many of us worked jobs that required actually working on Christmas Day. My mother is a nurse in a hospital, my brother a State Trooper, I worked in a Hospital pharmacy. We were accustomed to changing the Holiday Celebration to another day on a fairly regular basis. Some years Christmas would be celebrated on New Years, or sometimes the week prior to Christmas, to accommodate everyone’s work schedule. This also worked out well where spouses family celebrations were concerned. My sisters husband could celebrate on the Holiday or the night before. As well as mine and my brothers respective spouses.

The hardest adjustment in moving out of state, was not being part of my family celebrations. I loved planning them, and of course bossing everyone around. (First child syndrome, don’t blame me) I missed being part of these gatherings, and I know they missed having me. OK they mainly missed my children, but I think they missed me a little. I know my parents did anyway. 

This year, mom and dad are coming to Arizona to celebrate a Christmas with the 3T family! Yes, I’m excited!! And a little nervous. The closest they could come to the Holiday (for time off work) was the first week-end in December. What I am going to attempt is to have all Christmas Prep work (i.e.; decorating, shopping, wrapping and cleaning) DONE, by the time they arrive on December 1st! I will have eight days to do what I normally will spend a full month completing. Just the thought can throw me into a full blown meltdown.

But I will do my best to take each activity as it comes, and not look at the whole picture. Even though right at this moment the nausea is setting in.

I love my folks dearly, and want this visit to be special, and serve as the Christmas Holidays that I have missed over the last four years. Lofty goal, I know. But I’m going to give it my best.

Which means my time spent writing posts and reading during this period will be greatly diminished. Thinking ahead, what I have decided, is it will be my actual updates that will suffer. I love reading blogs, and to some extent this is less time consuming. So my posts will be fewer and further in between, allowing for me to read others. (Which face it, being funloving, I enjoy reading more then writing)

If per chance, you stumble in here and see a crazed and manic post, I ask you to bear with me. The insanity will let up, when the Holidays do. With it, I’ll return to my normal melodramatic self.

In the meantime, I wish you all a Happy and Blessed Thanksgiving!

3T