Starting New

Obviously the first step since I've moved into my new place is to unpack. Suprisingly, the majority of this work is done, save for the last 4 boxes. 4 boxes which are so full of odds and ends that they will probably still be sitting there 2 months from now, just because I don't feel like dealing with them. At least the important stuff like my clothing, cooking utensils, pots & pans are all put away.

I had been contemplating leaving since shortly after my first wedding anniversary. On the actual day of my anniversary I found out that my father had cancer. Not wanting to worry us, my dad didn't want us to know until that day, when he went in for surgery to remove the tumor. As soon as we found out, my brother, sister and I drove overnight to be there after the surgery. We stayed for a week, just spending time with him and mom. We found out while we were there that they were fairly certain they were able to remove the entire tumor. It was cancerous, but the prognosis was good. They would do another biopsy in 6 weeks to see where things stood. I don't think I've ever had a harder goodbye in my life than I did leaving them that early morning.

I got home and things were back to normal right away. Within less than a week H was back to raging at me over whatever it was that pissed him off at the time. I was laying on the couch, curled in a ball and crying my eyes out as he stood over me screaming, his face bright red, veins bulging out of his forehead, spitting as he screamed. Something inside of me broke. I was so worried about my father that I simply could not take it. My mind could not process it. I think that if I continued to live that way, absorbing all of that anger, I would have literally gone crazy.

I'm not an angry person. Ask anyone that knows me, I'm happy, and fun-loving, always with a smile on my face. As time with H went on, the weirdest thing happened. I developed a serious case of road rage. The slightest thing, like someone switching into my lane without using their turn signal would cause me to flip out, screaming at them, calling them names they surely didn't deserve. You get the idea. That was not me. But I think that I had to release the anger that I was absorbing. My mother said something to me when I told her about that that I never even thought about; I was releasing my own anger, my anger about how he was treating me. I don't know why, but that never occurred to me. Anyways, that was the day I changed. The day I decided that something needed to change in my situation, before I went crazy.

I told my mom about my plans 3 months ago, when I went out of town (to where they live) for business. I wasn't really shocked when she told me that they were waiting for me to do this. We told my dad together, and I felt so much better afterwards. I was so afraid to tell them but I'm so glad that I did. They have been such a big source of support for me through this. The fact that I'm able to have this relationship with them tells me that I'm changing, that I've finally started to become an adult. I wasn't the best daughter when I was a teenager, but that's the most wonderful thing about parents. They know, but they still love you, no matter what. Thanks mom and dad, I love you :)

A Time For Change

My life has completely changed over the last 2 weeks. I left my husband of 1.75 years (together for 4 years prior), got my own place, moved in and then realized that I actually survived the hardest thing that I've ever had to do.

I'm definitely not elated about this, my feelings are polar opposites. I feel sadness for what I've left and what's happened, but at the same time I'm excited for what will happen. My husband (let's call him H) was (is) an alcoholic, and he is also a very angry person. For some reason it took me 6 years to figure this out...I don't know why. When I met him I thought he was so nice, so happy, a really cool person. I think he has those qualities, but they're only the very thin outer layer of his personality. He turned out to be a jealous, entitled, angry and hurtful person.

I don't blame all of it on him. His parents (if you can call them that) were not a positive influence in his life. At least from what he's told me. I have found that he tends to see things and events differently than everyone else. Namely the fact that what happens is never his fault.

I am not perfect, far from it. Never claimed to be. Wasn't when I met him. What I am, though, is a different person than when I met him. I was young, just old enough to drink, and I'd never been in a relationship before. For months, everything was fantastic. Sure, we partied WAY too much, but I had been bartending before I met him, so I was in that life already. Maybe that's why I didn't see him for what he really was. We spent pretty much every waking moment together. I loved it. I loved him. I loved that he loved me, or at least that he made me feel loved.

One day I came home from work, and earlier that morning he had told me to wake him up when I got home, so I tried to wake him up. He was very groggy and difficult to wake. When he finally did get up he freaked the fuck out. Like SERIOUSLY freaked the fuck out. I've never seen anyone that pissed off or out of control in my life. And for no reason at all. At the time, he had a roommate, his best friend. While H was raging and screaming about God knows what, I was in his bedroom, bawling my eyes out, scared and confused. His roommate came back and sat in there with me and basically told me that this is H. It happens and you deal with it, because he's such a good person otherwise.

WHY THE FUCK DID I NOT RUN THEN???!!!!???!!!!

Sorry, had to get that out. That was the beginning of one of the happiest (yes, really) and the hardest, most miserable (yes, that too) periods in my life. If I go into everything there is to go into I won't finish this post until May 14, 2028. What I will say is that H showed me a lot, I experienced so many amazing things that I don't think I would have ever discovered on my own. He also made me grow up, because he does not know the meaning of the word responsibility. Personal responsibility, household responsibilities, any form of the word. I HAD to become more responsible or we would have self-destructed. The one positive to come of this is the person that I have (had to) become because of him. I realized that I would never be able to grow further if I stayed with him. He wouldn't let me. He wanted me to stay in the same place as him, never growing, ignoring any kind of ambition to do anything (except for getting tickets to the next Dead show).

I don't know what I'm going to do with the rest of my life. But I know that now I can do whatever I want to do. And that all I will hear about my dreams and hopes will be supportive (even if it's only coming from me!).