Just when I thought I was going under for certain....

Today, I woke up way too early -- after only 3 hours of sleep. Then I did a few things and went back to bed after cooking dinner. I didn't eat because I wanted to take the food to work overnight. So the phone and some thunderstorms woke me up and I ended up reading my email and received another inane letter from my S.T.B.E. Today, he continued to make demands and threats. I called him on the phone. We screamed. He emailed a nasty note. I emailed a note that was well-thought-out and not nice, in the least.

(Choir of Angels singing the Hallelujia Chorus)He called to apologize. Him. Saying he was sorry. The truth was that he just did not understand what I was saying, although I said it twelve ways from Sunday. This typified our relationship -- he would not understand me and then get "over the top" angry. I went from over-reacting to under-reacting during the span of my marriage. (Seriously, from freaking out each time we had a fight in the beginning... to rolling my eyes and walking away from him when he was threatening our lives with a gun. Okay, I didn't exactly walk away when he had the gun -- I called 911 without a second thought).

But anyways... he is not the most logical bananna in the bunch. And when the Choir of Angels kicked in, he actually apologized to me for misunderstanding. He called off the legal hounds, and has agreed to do things the way I suggested.

Still, he's a wreckless danger to himself, the way he gets an idea into his head and thinks that's the only way that life can exist, is to do things his way. Do you think, as individuals, that we might be that way sometimes?

So I was saying before that I got up in enough time to enjoy some lite television and dinner... but ended up having this hellacious fight. Then I called my best friend who is 1500 miles to my WNW... We prayed together for several minutes.

Ever get the feeling that you're not alone when you're praying? And not like Jesus is standing there either. There was this blackish blob in front of my eyes when I opened them up. It didn't really scare me, I just kept blinking and praying. If you've read "This Present Darkness" by Frank Peretti, then you'll know what I'm thinking about.

S.T.B.E. called me about 3 minutes after we were done praying. Praise God! That was one of the quickest answered prayers ever.

BTW.. I got registered for the GRE and found that I only have to take one portion of the exam. Therefore I can put all of my energies in that portion and not worry otherwise. What I really don't want to do, is to maybe just not do the writing section. I'm happy with my score and I don't think it's possible for me to do any better. I got a 5 out of 6.

And I was able to pay for all of this stuff that I needed to do, and still have enough for food this week. That's good... but it helped me to realize that S.T.B.E. was right when he said that he used to always have to "save" me financially -- He did, because in my puny, uneducated, immature mind... that was the only way to command him to be responsible, and at the same time, show me attention. Otherwise he ignored me most of the time. (snubbed me to the point where I wouldn't even hug or kiss him any longer).

Rough Weekend...

So it's not like I have a bad life or anything.... but I can't seem to get my brain and life and effort and finances in order, all at the same time. My dickweed soon-to-be-ex is dragging his feet on getting me some needed information, so that we can get this process under way. I have to take the GRE again to make sure I get into grad school. THat means there is studying to be done. Which means that the exam has to be registered for and paid for and worried about. And all of that implies that there will be less than zero emotional energy left to deal with 1) my vacation 2) my dickweed ex 3) anything else that should arise.

Sounds crazy for someone who has a good life and all... but you know, it makes me have a lot of anxiety for all of these unresolved things to be hanging over my head. I start to make a list, and then I hyperventilated. Real cool.

My mom asked me the other day if I needed her out here. I do. I'm afraid to let her come, because I'm afraid that means I'm not strong enough. I don't feel like I'm strong enough. I'm tired. So tired....

The Art of Contemplation....

At the art store, I've been coveting this painting set for months. I finally bought it a few weeks ago, and I finger it and fondle it every few days. But I've been afraid to open it up and really sit down and use it.

It's called Sumi E. The art of Japanese monochromatic ink painting. It's the pictoral equivalent of their brush calligraphy. Check it out

Memorial Day weekend seems like as good a time as any, to sit out on my balcony and contemplate the universe whilst grinding ink. I look forward to the solitude and learning something new. Of course, I have no books to instruct. This is going to be soooo cool. Riiight.

A revelation...

What I said yesterday, about doing things in life because people would be upset with me if I did not? Well... I just had the most startling moment of clarity: What if, for argument's sake... that I am putting on a brave face for the people around me. And what if, also, those people didn't really need me to be brave; they wanted to help me out of the darkness. I just imagined Jesus standing with his arms out saying "you don't have to pretend for me... just lean on me."

Had a cool thought the other day
Can't remember if I wrote it down -- it's about second chances. Essentially, I give everyone a second chance, or two or three. They screw up my life... they screw up their own lives... heck... I still love them for who they are.

So here's the big question: why do I hold myself to a higher standard? I mean really -- if even the least of my friends and loved ones get endless second chances in my eyes.. then tell me why it's so hard for me to forgive myself for making a mistake in life? In a relationship?

One More Thing
Today, I told my mom about someone special. Someone who I want to date. The guy I mentioned a few days back. She said that I talked about him about the same way she feels about my dad -- safety and security, happiness and encouragement, feeling rational and reaching for goals and dreams together. Mom said that she wants me to be happy, whether it's going out to dinner with Mr. Right when he's breezing thru town, or if it's settling down with him and becoming his Mrs. Right. Yeah, Yeah, I know... I can't jump the gun. But I honestly hope for the latter. I'm like the opposite of a commitmophobe; a commitmoholic. But this feels good, and right and (dare I say it?) Normal.

A Little Poetic Lisence, please?

I am prone to exaggeration. In the middle of a big fish tale, I often take the liberty to mention that "it's not true, but wouldn't it be cool if it was true?" My good buddy told me recently that it was very clever of me to admit to the exaggeration... then when I really say something, they'll know I will tell the truth if what I say is stretching it a bit.

However, sometimes I describe affectations of other's minds, not thoroughly seeing or understanding the motivation behind them. The risks one takes when writing things down on papar (or in this case, glowing electrons), is mainly that of being misunderstood.

So descriptions are accurate unless otherwise noted. But even more than that.. my impression of things others have shared... are like telling second-hand gossip. Your words plus my preconceived notions. I'll be kinder if you can be more understanding, eh?