Almost Official

Well, it finally happened. Governor Schwarzenegger has ordered an immediate hiring freeze. Can't say I'm surprised. With the economy in its current state, it was inevitable. How does this affect me? Well, I am a state worker. In California. But besides that, I have accepted a position with another local law enforcement state agency . Contingent upon that offer was a full scale background investigation. My investigation is completed (yes, I believe I passed!), however I am still waiting for 'the powers that be' to approve my recommendation. I'm fairly certain the freeze won't effect my new employment since I'm so far into the process (going on three months). But you just never know.

While I am not too worried, the thought of remaining in my current position much longer might drive me to the brink of insanity. It's not that I hate my job. I don't. The people are great, the hours are good, the content is interesting. I'm just BURNED OUT. And three years in this job is about the norm for people in my line of work.

I'm looking forward to travelling a new career path. And I think I have finally found the path I'm most passionate about. I feel like I have spent years searching for my 'niche.' For a long time, I thought it was the corporate arena and while I was in the middle of it, I enjoyed it thoroughly. However, it wasn't meant to be.

State civil service has been interesting, and the polar opposite of Corporate America. The shift in mentality was immediately apparent. State workers are stereotyped for a reason. No late hours, no overtime, no working even a minute past your scheduled shift end. I found it incredible that 'mediocre effort' was not only acceptable, but encouraged.

My new path, while still in state service, will put me in a brand new world. The work, while highly confidential, will hopefully be the most rewarding journey to date.

Desensitized

I need to tread lightly with my topic today. It can be the cause of friction for me and K and we see things in very different lights at times. This is (sort of) a follow up for her rant regarding her ex. Every now and again I get to speak my mind to him. Here are the rules:

1. It has to be about what I've personally experienced.
2. It has to be about me or the kids.
3. It has to be constructive (on my part) and abandoned should it not prove fruitful.
4. I have to make him cry - that's my rule!! I'm 100% at following this one!!

He began in September only treating ME badly and it trickled into him treating K badly. His treatment of me escalated into a level that I was done tolerating. I believed he was being too negative with me in front of the children and I could see the kids were reacting to this. That's when it's crossed the line for me. He can be an asshole to JUST ME all day long and I really could care less. I care about how he treats K but that's not my battle. I see K and her ex as being more or less desensitized to one another. They have the same arguments in the same ways they did in a marriage that didn't work. So, with emotionally fueled topics I see it as them both hitting their heads against the wall to a degree.

It's the most odd phenomenon to me that when I get to unleash, in my therapy approved way of active listening, he cries and "changes" for a bit. He'll be downright NICE and I breath e a tiny sigh of relief. It's a cycle with him. Unfortunately, the other shoe always drops. But we have some reprieve and that's all we can ask for.

I opened my most recent conversation with asking him to explain why I had made him so angry at me. I, being the monster I am, showed up at K's oldest sons first day of school, upon the request of the child. That is something (and there should be a flyer sent out cuz I had no idea!!) RESERVED FOR BIOLOGICAL PARENTS OF CHILDREN ONLY. As are parent teacher conferences, I found out later on, but anywhoo . . . . . . . Yes, my support of his son was NOT okay even at the request of THE SON. There's a WHOLE LOT more to it than that but I'll not go into it. I think you can see me for the horrible person I am and the rational saint the ex is!!

The moral of the story is, that when you let someone unleash four months of pent up anger at you and "paraphrase it back to them" they just might get it. I listened to him let him abuse me and he absolutely tried to get in some good digs. But in the end I said. "So, what I hear you saying is that when we, as adults, are upset with each other it's okay to treat one another poorly in front of the children, we are allowed, in those instances, to be poor role models. Thank you, I guess I just needed to know the rules." We got off the phone on that note.

And he's been better ever since. He's been polite to all of us and communicative with K. That's all I really wanted. Adults to be adults. We need to take the high road always, not that I want to . . . . . . . because at times, I'd love to fight fire with fire. But I don't.

It's just odd and amazing that the same words from different people can have such dramatic and different affect.

And, yes, I made him cry. I always make him cry when he talks to me. I have no idea why, I'm not actually mean to him. I think I'm so direct I cut him to the quick. He's used to the very angry, passive-aggressive dance he does with K. I take him out of his comfort zone and it's not fun for him.
And for me?? Let me just say this, it DOES NOT break my heart when he cries. He owes every one of those tears to K and those children for his past ugly behavior.

Meme

I guess I'll take the hint. ;) I've been tagged by both Athena and OC, so here goes. :)

Rules: Link to the person that tagged you, post the rules on your blog, share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself, tag six more bloggers at the end, and then leave them comments so they know they've been tagged.

1) I once literally launched a tooth across the room when I was seven years old by trying to open a bottle of pancake syrup with my teeth. To this day, loose, wiggly teeth ook me out and give me the heebie jeebies. Reminds me of that event and the feeling I had in my mouth.

2) I have an obsession with clean floors. I hate dirty carpet and kitchen floors with a passion. Dirty countertops and tabletops don't bother me so much. But dirty floors... I shudder just thinking about them.

3) I am an avid aquarist. I just got my fifty gallon tank up and running after it was sitting in my garage for six months (it was stored after my divorce). I've driven LK nuts this month because I've spent a ton of money on supplies and I can't stop obsessing over it. I love fish. :)

4) I cannot sleep if someone or something is touching me. I need my space and am not very cuddly in bed.

5) I am really bad at searching for things. I mean really bad. I am teased endlessly because most often what I am looking for is right in front of me. This happens a lot. Especially when I'm in a hurry.

6) I bite my fingernails. I hate it and I have stopped in the past, but when stressed, I revert back.

Since most all the bloggers I know out there have completed this meme, I won't be tagging anyone. I'm boring like that! :)

A Bad Day - Revisted

Yesterday was a bad day. I was running late to work, trying to fix lunches for the family and feeding the boys breakfast, pretty much simultaneously, when I discovered my 12 year old cat dead in the garage. He was laying in this strange position that didn't look comfortable, I bent down and pet his legs but he didn't react. My hectic morning, which was more or less a blur, suddenly stopped and had a much more acute focus than I had anticipated for the morning. I went inside to get K, I'm fanatical about my cats and K will tell you I like them more than most humans . . . I'll not disagree . . . BUT I KNEW I was mistaken, my kitty was okay, I was overreacting . . . . .K would make the cat be alive. . . . . . I was SURE of it. I was already crying when I went in the kitchen from the garage and asked for her help. Okay, that asking might have been sort of sobbing and . . . . . I really don't remember much else. . . . .or if I even used words. I may have just motioned to the garage.

K was kind enough to clarify for me that the cat was indeed dead. I made her check for breathing, turn him over, check again for breathing and then CHECK FOR BREATHING BECAUSE HE'S NOT DEAD. No denial here. I'm fine now, really :)

When we returned into the house, the kids were scared and thus begins my bad day revisited. I stopped and took a deep breath. D*mn, I didn't mean to scare the kids. For the 5 minute process of discovering my pet and confirming it's death, I only thought of myself and my pain. I looked into these tiny scared eyes fixed on me and my crying. I began to explain what had happened to the kitty. We spoke at great length, I cried all the while, but assured the kids I would be okay, we would all be okay, even when we get sad and it can be scary when grown ups seem sad. I gave them an opportunity, if they wished, to say goodbye to cat. They accepted. We pet him and told him he was a good boy. I told the kids he didn't suffer, he had a bad heart since he was a kitten and that he died painlessly in his sleep. All true.

And then it BEGAN . . . . . the raging debate between the youngest and the oldest child. The youngest began (sort of shouting) THE CAT GOT KILT, he seemed to like the sound and reaction of that. The older child, upset and understanding the cats death more, . . STOP IT HE JUST DIED HE DIDN'T GET KILLED. Insert me sort of quietly sobbing still (mind you it had been just 10 minutes since I discovered my cat dead) and K looking on helplessly.

I'll have you know this debate raged on until after dinner time. KILT vs. DEAD 2008. And I wasn't so sad anymore, as odd as that seems. We were all experiencing something, albeit hard, but we were doing this together. We were going to learn from it and we all really would be okay. We were all sharing our perspectives and thoughts. There were tears and discussion but no secrets. Part of the mystery of death was revealed to the children and their minds expanded, as did mine. You don't have to be a perfect parent, or parental figure. You won't always get the chance to pick the right time to share a lesson and expand minds young and old. Yesterday, life's lesson was swift, painful and confusing, but handled with honestly, love, compassion and sharing. Even in the very end, my cat kept giving to me and my family. He really was a good boy and will be missed.

Ex Husband Rant

Please forgive me. I wasn't planning on using this as a vessel to bitch about people in my life, but I just have to get this out. Plus my therapist told me it would be a good idea. Haha!

My ex husband is driving me to the brink of insanity. I attended my son's basketball game on Saturday afternoon (if you haven't ever watched 12 six year old boys play basketball, please do - they are freakin' adorable). We did not have the children this weekend and I showed up to the gym alone. I was sitting in the front row of the bleachers and just as I sat down, my 2 year old son and his dad came walking into the room. My 2 year old spotted me almost immediately and lavished me with hugs and kisses. My ex, on the other hand, couldn't even manage to give a courtesy hello or any other acknowledgement. In fact, he didn't say one word to me the entire game.

Now, I'm not asking for us to be chatty or personal. At all. I don't want that. But a hello would have been respectful. His anger is so poisonous. The children can sense it and he's teaching them how to become himself - an immature, angry little boy. He can't seem to put his shit aside for the children's sake. And it frustrates me to no end. I know I have no control over him and I have to set my boundaries for the sake of my mental health, but it truly is maddening. He's such a martyr. Always the victim. And everyone around him plays right into it.

I guess part of the reason all of this is so difficult is because I have first hand experience with divorced parents. I know it can be different. I know that two parents can be in the same room and carry on a conversation and be cordial for the sake of their children. My parents divorced when I was 15 and it was the best thing that ever happened to our family. They stopped fighting. Everyone got along, even if it wasn't under one roof. My parents attended all the birthdays, and school functions, graduations, etc., and they were respectful, almost friendly to one another. It was their way of showing us kids that it wasn't our fault. And I suppose that's my fear. That my children will sense their dad's anger and somehow feel it's their fault. And that is unacceptable.

My Need For More Head Shrinking

Right after I made the decision to leave my ex-husband, I thought it might be a good idea to pursue some individual therapy for myself. I was hesitant to do so because in the past, I had not had such good luck with with counselors. I had sought assistance a few times during my marriage and was not impressed with the quality of advice given to me AT ALL. But, I suppose I was desperate.

Since I work for a state government agency, I am entitled to all sorts of perks and benefits. I contacted my office representative and was told I would receive 6 free therapy visits and a few contacts in my area. And that is how I found him. Chris was a wonderful doctoral intern at a local counseling office. I saw him weekly for about 4 months and twice a month thereafter for almost a year. Chris helped me understand why I do the things I do and the possible reasons why I didn't realize I was a lesbian until I was 29. Truly amazing.

So the time has come to again pursue some counseling. LK was able to recognize the signs of my depression long before I ever did. And while it took me some time, I grudgingly admitted to myself and to her that she was right.

So I have an appointment next week. I must admit that I am a bit nervous. I know I am suffering from some anxiety issues and I have a short fuse. I can see this short fuse just in my day to day life with the children. I tend to lose my patience much more quickly and get frustrated over little things that didn't use to set me off. So there's no doubt that I will benefit from some assistance. It's just hard to admit when you need help.

The Passenger

If I had a blog, which I don't ;) I'd have called it Outside Wants In because my experience is the flip side of K, I'm LK, the passenger on her journey through all this. When I read what's written from her so far I see, Ex-husband, shared custody, new sexual identity, foreclosure, quitting smoking and depression. The weight of ONE of those things alone can crush a person, render them useless in this world, let alone the weight of ALL of those things. So, first and foremost, I'm very proud of her. I derive strength from her resolve. I'm truly in awe of the amazing person she is. I give my support to her and anyone who faces any of these issues and more. From my life experiences, I do know this, women are strong. And, from K, I'm learning a very important life lesson as the passenger here . . . . . . the hokey poky IS what it is all about. Seriously. You have to put your WHOLE self in. She has and she's still reeling from the effect of it. . . . . and I watch . . . .and listen . . . . and empathize . . . . and do everything I can except DRIVE. No hands on the wheel for me. If you are someone like me, I think you know it can feel overwhelming and maddening at times. I SO want to drive her life into a different direction at times. I WISH I was in the student driver car with the extra brake to stop it from certain directions . . . . .but I can't. For as much as I wish I could steer K away from pain and obstacles, I would steer her from learning and growth. For the most part, I try to enjoy the view, I am guilty of stomping my foot down every now and again on the imaginary brake I feel under my foot and I'm sorry every time I do. Each time I do, I short cut K's development and sharing in this process. So drive K, I'm buckled up and ready to go.

Inspiration and Other Random Ramblings

In case you were wondering, yes, I shamelessly stole the title of my blog from John Mayer's self-released debut album with the same name. I became quite obsessed with him and his music about six or seven years ago. I still do enjoy his music, but not quite to the extent of obsession back then. I felt the title accurately portrayed how I feel about my life these days. My blog title reminds me of how much Mr. Mayer's music moved me... how alive I felt because I had finally found something to be passionate about. Most of my life I've felt fairly suppressed and didn't really understand the reason. While it may be quite obvious now, it certainly wasn't back then.

In other news, I am on day three of my journey to become a non-smoker. Yes, I've tried to quit in the past and did so successfully for three years before starting up again. I quit with each of my pregnancies without much problem. But then again, I was a fairly social smoker in those days. Plus, my ex despised it. So I would usually partake when I was out with the girls or at work. About a year and a half ago, my impending divorce and subsequent lifestyle change led me to turn to nicotine for some stress relief. These days, my habit has increased to about a half a pack a day. And that's unacceptable. I'm honestly just bored of it.

I know that I need help to quit. And if I want to be successful this time, the nicotine patch and I need to become inseparable. So here I sit with a patch on my shoulder trying to ignore the burning sensation taking over my right side. Oy.

How It All Began. . .

In late 2005/early 2006, shortly after returning to work after a few months off with my son, I met and befriended a very 'out', charming, lesbian woman I will refer to here as LK. She sat right across from me and we became fast friends through a mutual acquaintance. Not long after we met, I began to think things and feel things for her that I had never felt for any person, let alone any other man.

I think now would be the time to share that I always had girlfriends growing up, went boy crazy in high school and lead a very normal teenage girl lifestyle. As I look back now, one thing that stands out was the distance I created between my girlfriends and myself. I think on some level, I just never let myself have a strong connection with other women. I was afraid of it. My family was very conservative and the mind is a very powerful thing. My little brain was just not going to let me go there, because I knew my family (my father, especially) would never accept it. There are other reasons that I won't go into here, but I was desperately in need of my father's approval. And maybe I deep down I knew if I let myself think about women in a sexual fashion, I would never get it. Anyway, I digress. . .

LK and I began flirting via email and one thing led to another and I asked her out to dinner. She very directly told me that she shouldn't ever be alone with me and promptly accepted my invitation. Everything moved quickly from there and I found myself in a situation in which I had to make some extremely tough decisions. I had two small children and a husband at home. I remember I kept asking myself the question, "Am I a lesbian?" I don't know that I answered that question honestly prior to leaving my husband, but I am certain I can answer it now. Yes. I am. Completely.

Things got hard after I moved out of my house. My ex wouldn't leave and was not at all supportive or understanding. He was blindsided. As was I. He was very angry. I worried about my children and the consequences of my actions. It was pretty horrible.

LK was also facing a divorce from her partner and we both supported each other the best we could. Those were trying times. I sometimes have a hard time believing I made it out alive. :) She has been incredibly supportive of my decisions and I love her for that. We have had our share of ups and downs, but she is the woman I love with all of my heart and soul.

How are things now? Eh, they are good. LK and I live together and we share the kids 50/50 with their father. He's no saint, I assure you. But he's getting better. I still harbor some guilt about everything I put my children through, but I'm learning to let it go. My philosophy is a happy mom = happy kids. And honestly, they are doing just fine.

Stuck Inside My Head

de·pres·sion

(1): a state of feeling sad : dejection (2): a psychoneurotic or psychotic disorder marked especially by sadness, inactivity, difficulty in thinking and concentration, a significant increase or decrease in appetite and time spent sleeping, feelings of dejection and hopelessness, and sometimes suicidal tendencies c (1): a reduction in activity, amount, quality, or force (2): a lowering of vitality or functional activity

It has come to my attention that there might actually be a word to describe my current state of mind. Depression. Ugh. I really hate that word. Unfortunately, I am not a stranger to this condition. I believe I suffered from post-partum depression for about a year after my oldest son was born. I was a new mother, completely stressed out by my colicky first born. And while I can feel some of the familiar pangs of what I went through back then, this time it feels different.

This time I imagine, my current mindset is a result of the last couple of tumultuous years I've experienced. Divorce, foreclosure, joint custody, and a new found sexual orientation. Sounds like a lot, huh? Yeah, it kind of is. My hope for this blog is ultimately self serving. Therapy for me. A way to express myself without censorship.

I didn't want to start this journey on such a depressing note (pun intended, haha!), but I feel that it's probably best to be honest with myself from the start about my state of mind. So this is where I begin.

The First Post

So it took me a year to compose my first post. So what? I needed to think about it, obviously. My life is complicated. I figure if I don't start writing about it, I might go nuts. So it begins.