Dork-o-Rama: The Random Thoughts of a Total Goofball

Embracing the Dork Side....Because Life is Too Short to Take Yourself Too Seriously

Saturday, June 03, 2006

Time flies...

I recently realized that it's now been ten years since the ex-hub and I separated the first time. It was late May of 1996 -- I don't remember the exact date anymore. Funny -- I remember counting each day we were apart, then!

Now, I initially hesitated to write about this, because sometimes I think I sound like I'm not over all of that mess (click here if you don't know what I'm talking about), but fuck it. I know I have scars from that relationship that I will carry around for the rest of my life.
And I'm big on milestones. Especially huge, life-altering ones.
I wasn't going to look at my journal from that time, because I'm in a good mood today, and I still remember how utterly and completely devastated I was when we decided to separate....and who needs to go back down that road again?
But I can't help but smile, looking back at some of what I wrote, and at some of the letters we exchanged.

Early on, I couldn't sleep, I could barely eat, I felt like I was going to throw up all the time, I got a cold, and I was incredibly unfocused at work. Fortunately, my colleagues were very patient with me and my constant fuck-ups.
"I feel like a giant, open wound. What does it say about me that despite all the shit he's put me through, I still want to spend my life with him? I hate him for this, and yet I love him with all my heart."
"I'm just so drained. Kind of numb, too. Can you be numb and in pain at the same time?"
He wanted us to do something together on my birthday, which was a few weeks after we separated. Um, hello? I don't think so. He honestly couldn't understand why I didn't want to spend the day with him. Um, HELLO?? Pain, much?
(Tangent: for several years after we split, he'd send me flowers on my birthday, which annoyed me to no end. I'd send them home with a co-worker -- and in fact, would often never even see them, because I usually take my birthday off -- and leave him a voice mail telling him to knock it off -- that I didn't want them, I didn't enjoy them, and I wasn't keeping them. He finally stopped after the year I screamed into his voice mail, "IF YOU'RE TRYING TO MAKE ME FEEL SHITTY ON MY BIRTHDAY, YOU'VE DONE A GOOD JOB, ASSHOLE!" Heh.)
A little more than a month after we split, I was in much better emotional shape than he was. Now, I suppose that's to be expected, since he was also grappling with the truth about who he really was... but at the same time, what he put me through made me question everything I thought was true. This is not an exaggeration; I mean EVERYTHING.
And I'd almost forgotten about what I'd done about my wedding ring.
I hated looking at it after we separated; it felt like a big, fat lie on my hand. And I couldn't get the fucking thing off, because I'd gained weight after we got married. Nothing worked -- soap, vaseline, nothing.
So I went to the hardware store to find something that would cut through gold, and got a weird look from the guy I asked for help.
I found something, came home, and cut the damned thing off, sobbing the whole time. It didn't occur to me that maybe I was endangering my finger, considering my emotional state and how sharp that tool was.
But now I'm sitting here laughing out loud at the memory. And the joke was on me, because the indentations left behind by that ring (and the tan lines left by the other rings he'd given me) took awhile to fade.
Yeah, I got it re-soldered and re-sized during the summer, just in case... and resumed wearing it once we'd reconciled six months later. It came off again -- the normal way -- three ugly and painful months after that. (I'll write about that to mark that anniversary.)
Eventually, I took the stupid thing to a pawn shop, after no "reputable" jeweler was interested in it, and got a whopping $75 for it.

  • Somehow, that seems like an appropriate comment on the marriage itself. And yeah, I'm smiling as I click on "publish post."

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At 03 June, 2006 19:35, Blogger sassinak said...

damm
that's the thing that makes me really happy to have a blog. one day i'll just read the old posts.

i have bits of journals but i'm a much more faithful blogger than i ever was a journaller.

i only ever journal when i'm depressed or confused BIG over a boy.

congrats on ten years babe. glad you're smiling

 
At 03 June, 2006 20:20, Blogger Mouthy Girl said...

Terry, you are an amazing woman. I didn't know you when you posted about the REASON you and he separated and later divorced.

You write with pure honesty. You look yourself in the eye each day with truth and expectations.

And umm...you're a risk taker. At least that's my opinion after reading how you CUT YOUR FUCKING RING OFF YOUR OWN FUCKING FINGER.

Woman, I was CACKLING when I read that. I'm damn glad to know you.

Realize something...regardless of the scars, someday you won't be questioning EVERYTHING. You will be sure of yourself. You will know you are surrounded by the very best of people. You will know that his ability to lie doesn't compare with your ability to be happy.

 
At 04 June, 2006 02:50, Blogger DZER said...

the best part was knowing that you were smiling when you hit publish ... good for you ... *smooch*

 
At 04 June, 2006 10:17, Blogger Shannon Morgan said...

Happy Anniversary, so to speak. Couldn't help but giggle imagining the guy at the hardware store helping you find that tool. Glad you can laugh about a lot of that now.

 
At 04 June, 2006 10:37, Blogger Queen of Cheese said...

Hooray!

Good work.

As your friend in pain ten years ago, I am marveling to realize that as we mourned our losses in 1996, now ... we celebrate! Or at least look back and realize how a little distance and a lot of time really make things clear.

rock on Terry!

 
At 04 June, 2006 11:13, Blogger Jon said...

I too am glad you were smiling when you hit "Publish".

I am coming up on the 5 year anniversary of finding out about my ex's affair. That is a hard day to forget too. I don't know if I'll post about it.

Why is it that when these horrific things happen we want to keep the source of this pain from leaving when it is obvious that their leaving is the best thing that could happen to us?

MUAH

 
At 04 June, 2006 14:23, Blogger terry said...

sass, it's funny... i was never able to keep a journal before all this shit happened. i used to hate getting those journaling assignments in school. so i was surprised and amused that the first thing i did after he dropped the "struggling with bisexuality" bomb on me was to go out and buy a journal, because i knew i had to get some of those thoughts out of my head!

and thanks! it's hard to believe it's been ten years..though it also feels like someone else's life in many ways.

buddha girl.. wow. your words move me. really. you brought tears to my eyes. that's just...wow. thank you...!

and i don't think i take enough risks, actually (aside from nearly slicing off my own finger..). i've definitely let fear rule too much of my life...and the length of that relationship is a perfect example of that.

glad you were cackling. i was, too, remembering it!

dzer, thanks! i gotta say... the whole debacle certainly makes for a good story to tell. of course, i didn't see it that way then.

nomadshan, it was all i could do to keep from bursting into tears when the hardware dude needed clarification about what i needed this tool for. he must have thought i was insane! and in a way, i was. and now, it's just funny.

miss cheese, can you believe it's been ten years?? i was actually thinking of you and what your 1996 was like when i was writing this. it seems like forever ago... and yet... i can still remember so much of it.

i'm so glad we're able to have a cocktail and laugh it all off now. in fact, i consider you an important part of my return to life after the whole thing ended for good. so, thank YOU for that!

jon, one day you'll be able to look back with some detachment and laugh about some of what happened. i suppose, for me, there's some comfort in knowing that what went wrong really had nothing to do with me... except that i don't have a penis, and that was a fundamental problem.

and i have a one-word answer to your question: fear. at least, that was my answer. fear of being without someone i'd loved for so long. fear of being alone. fear of so many things.

now i'm afraid of ever being in that kind of mess ever again.

live and learn, right?

 
At 04 June, 2006 15:35, Blogger sassinak said...

you know what i say to my fear?

a native expression that goes "no one will go to your grave for you" and then i remember that it's not the things you do in life you regret, it's the things you don't do... and then if i'm still afraid? i figure there's something holding me back for a reason and try to let it go.

like i'm afraid of parachuting BUT i have a fucked low back so i'm right not to do it... so i let it go...

and hee i was hit 7777

 
At 04 June, 2006 15:45, Blogger terry said...

sass, you are so right. i honestly don't regret anything i've done. well, almost anything.

it's definitely the stuff i haven't done...

i love that expression. i'm going to have to remember that.

 

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