A to Z Blogging Challenge

And So It Begins - The April A to Z Blogging Challenge

So, tomorrow begins the A to Z Blogging Challenge. Since this has been year of emotional upheavals, downturns and loop-the-loops, I have decided to blog an emotion - or twelve - for each letter of the alphabet.

I expect this to be a very personal journey. I sometimes have great difficulty dealing with my emotions. I don't always acknowledge all that I feel. My hope is that by challenging myself to write about them daily, I will be able to feel my way through it, so to speak. 

We can't fix what we don't acknowledge. I know, I know, that was WAY too Dr. Phil of me. (This is one thing he is right about, though.) I have a tendency to make things someone else's fault. Usually, my Former Supposed Spouse gets the brunt of it. But it "takes two to tango" as they say, and so this Challenge is me taking responsibility for my part in things and cleaning up my side of the street.

I will also be hopping on to do all the regular stuff too - Meet Me On Monday, Captcha Balderdash, etc.

A is for Aftermath....

Aftermath. The period following a usually ruinous event.

This is where I have taken up residence. In the abyss of the abrupt departure of my alcoholic former supposed spouse. Adrift in an ocean of tears with no shoreline in sight. Enwreathed in a shroud of anguish so thick and dark that even the horizons have disappeared. It is arduous even to breathe.

This latest catastrophe is nothing new. Of the seven years we've been together he has spent nearly half that in some form of incarceration - county jail, treatment centers, pre-release centers and now, finally, State Prison. The times we've spent apart and those we've spent together have become so jumbled that for every event, I have to stop and think - was he home when that happened? Or did I have to handle that one myself?

I keep telling myself that this is the last time I live here - in the aftermath. This time, I'm not simply killing time until he comes home again. This time, I'm breaking the cycle. This time, I'm moving on.

B is for Betrayal....

Betrayal. To fail or desert especially in time of need.

Yes, he has betrayed me. By his own actions, he has deserted me. He keeps telling me it wasn't his choice, that he doesn't WANT to be where he is at. It was the cops, his probation officer, the judge, his mother. Yes, even his mother because if he hadn't had to go over to her house and take care of her, then he wouldn't have been driving.

But that's not really true. He was headed to her house the night he was arrested. However, he CHOSE to stop at the bar first. He CHOSE to start drinking again long before that night. He CHOSE to drive even though he wasn't allowed to do so without the ignition interlock device required by the court.

And we all need him in some form. His ex-wife and his mother are both disabled and need his help physically. I am in limbo while Social Security tries to decide whether or not I am disabled enough to receive benefits. He was my sole source of income.

He made CHOICES that got him where he is at today. They are an endless list of broken promises. 

I made my OWN choices that got me here, as well. I CHOSE to let him come home again and again. I CHOSE to believe the empty promises. I CHOSE to turn myself upside down and inside out in an effort to "save" him. But he didn't want to be saved - didn't think he needed to be saved. And even if he did, I CANNOT do it for him.

I think maybe we've betrayed each other. And I'm not sure if that can be fixed. I'm not sure I want to fix it if it can.

C is for Confusion, Conflicted and Concerned...

Confusion. A state of being disturbed in mind or purpose.

Conflicted. Experiencing or marked by ambivalence or a conflict, especially of emotions.

Concerned. Anxious, worried, interestedly engaged, culpably involved.

Initially, I had planned to only post about a single emotion on a given day this month. C however, required more than one, and I have a sneaking suspicion that some of the others will as well. 

Some days, it seems that confusion can swallow me whole. I have fibromyalgia, and that not only makes my body not work well, but it also messes with my mental function. I forget things. A lot. So I make a lot of lists. And then promptly forget where I have written them down or where I have put them. Which leads to confusion as to what I am supposed to be doing, where I'm supposed to be going and when I'm supposed to be there. 

My former supposed spouse is also an enormous source of confusion. I have no doubt that he loves me and cares for me. How then can he keep making the same choices that take him away from me? From us? How does he process his actions and his choices so that he can let himself believe that he can do whatever he wants and get away with it? I don't understand. (Perhaps I'm not as much an addict as I have led myself to believe!)

Show me a fence, and I will show you how to walk it. 

One minute I'm so angry at him that I really believe he is lucky to be behind Plexiglas or at the other end of a phone line because I swear to the heavens above if he were right in front of me, I would chock the ever loving shit out of him.

And in the very next breath, I want to believe that this FINALLY is the time he gets it and we will have our happily ever after. He is my heart's desire. I love him. I miss him. I want him to come home.

In the midst of the FSS's extended absence, his ex-wife has come completely unraveled to the point where her kids have been removed from her care and placed in the temporary custody of my Former Supposed Mother-In-Law.

And THAT has been a nightmare in and of itself. She's having a great deal of difficulty with "Colton." He's defiant. He's oppositional. He's just flat out effing PISSED! And who can blame him? His mother is unable to properly care for him, his dad is behind bars again, and he's stuck with his Grandma who won't even let him go outside and play. I'M pissed, and I'm a grown-up (in theory, anyway) and I don't even know how to process all of MY emotions. 

I imagine that for a 7-year-old it all translates into one thing - FEAR. And how does he express that? Anger.

But when he's at MY house? He's a completely different kid. He laughs. He's funny. He does what I ask - sometimes more than I ask. He does his homework. He takes his shower. He eats his dinner. He goes to bed. WITHOUT the big ass melt down.

My heart breaks for him. I love him like he is my own and my heart is just breaking for him.

Oh who am I kidding. My heart is broken for all of us.

D is for Delusional...

Delusional. The abnormal state marked by a persistent, false, psychotic belief regarding the self or persons or objects outside the self that is maintained despite indisputable evidence to the contrary. 

I think maybe we are all guilty of deluding ourselves at some point in our lives. I know I am. I know my Former Supposed Spouse is. We tell ourselves lots of things - not necessarily totally false things - in order to get through the day.

I have always believed after each incarceration and treatment program that Jon would "get it" this time. That "click" would happen and he would be able to maintain his sobriety for longer than a few months. He asked me to marry him about 6 years ago, the first time he was locked up. I had told him that if he could give me 6 months sober on the outside where he wasn't monitored and supervised 24/7 that I would.

We're still not legally married. The longest he managed to stay sober was about 4 months. 

We have a child together and have lived in the same house and have presented ourselves as husband and wife so I would say that the State of Montana considers our relationship a "Common Law Marriage." But we never signed the papers or took the vows.

There's a big part of me that wants to cling to the delusion that this time will be different. There's a part of me that is desperately afraid to be alone and because of that, I'm tempted, always, to continue buying into the delusion. Even though the "indisputable evidence" tells a different story.

Actions speak a thousand time louder than words.

E is for Ephemeral...

Ephemeral: lasting a very short time.

Yes, I know, ephemeral is not strictly an emotion. It is relevant nonetheless.

I have a tendency to get mired down in my negative emotions. When what seems like a thousand different things go wrong all at once it gets a little difficult to see past them. The sadness moves in like a summer storm and swallows me whole. Tears fall like rain, my emotions swirl like a twister and my body feels like it's been beaten up by golf-ball sized hail.

But, just like those summer storms that come out of nowhere, a rainbow almost always follows. The storm moves on, the rain stops, the wind dies down and the sun comes out again.

Even though I am living in the middle of the storm right now, I do know that all of this is temporary. Jon is halfway through his incarceration and - whether I let him come home or not - he will once again be here to help me, even if it's just to take these kids for a while so I can get a break. 

The next court date for "Karla" and her kids is in May - a little over a month from now - and hopefully, her kids will be able to go back with her and the trauma of life with "Etta" will be over. Or, I will be able bodied enough by then that I can take over and they can come and live with me.

And, as ALWAYS, every time I get mired in my own mess, I am reminded that I could have it SO. MUCH. WORSE. I could be homeless. I could be terminally ill instead of chronically ill. I could live in Japan.

As I said in a previous post......IT'S ALL TEMPORARY!

Nothing lasts forever, not even the crap!