Tag Archives: overwhelmed

That Girl

2 Dec


I’ve been reluctant to post about this, because I’ve been reluctant to admit it, but – we’re in therapy again. BD and I, trying to work things out, with the hopes of reuniting and giving our little boy the family we want so much for him to have.

I haven’t really talked much about it, I let almost everyone around me just assume that we’re separated, and on the way to a divorce (I bet they’re wondering what’s taking us so long). The few friends I have told, received the news followed by giant all-caps disclaimers: IT PROBABLY WON’T WORK OUT. NO POINT OF GETTING MY HOPES UP. WE MIGHT AS WELL GIVE IT A TRY, BUT, YOU KNOW, I DON’T REALLY THINK IT’S GOING ANYWHERE.

We have a good therapist. She’s practical and gets to the point quickly, which is good. And things are going well, I guess. We’re discussing moving in together for a trial period in a month or so. If this works out, it’ll be great. I mean, just think of the convenience: First off, having a live-in partner helping me raise my boy, and having that live-in incidentally be his father! There’s the little things – taking out the trash without worrying about leaving Baby at home. Going to the bathroom and, drumroll… Closing the door! Having someone to eat dinner with and spoon with at night. And then, there’s being able to have sex whenever I want, without it becoming a huge project. Only for that to become a consideration, we need to actually have sex, which we’re not, at all. God I miss sex. Sex is the best.

So now I have some down time, since the holidays have provided a short break from work, and BD went on yet another one of his business trips. Time to myself and I have no idea what to do with it. I’ve become so used to working nonstop, I kind of want to work though my vacation, and I can – it’s not that I don’t have stuff to do, I just don’t think that would be smart. I really need a time out.

After taking Baby to daycare this morning I went running, which always makes me feel powerful and sexy and I haven’t done it in a really long time. My running music is horribly outdated, but I haven’t listened to it so long that even Thrift Shop didn’t get on my nerves. When I came back home, feeling energized, I took a nice long shower and was suddenly overwhelmed with memories, little fragments of a winter day, almost a year ago, January 22nd, the day that marks my biographical birthday, the day New Me was born. As the water rushed over my hair, my face, my body, I felt a tingle in my toes as I caught a glimpse of a head of auburn curls, enormous brown eyes and strong arms that used to crush me to pieces and make me feel alive.

But it wasn’t SG I was remembering, it was me. Beautiful, sexy, strong, energetic, creative, vibrant, healthy, happy me. The girl who somehow survived the flood; the girl who camped out on the beach, sipping Breezers all day and returned home with her hair full of sand, and didn’t feel guilty for a minute for leaving her 7-month-old with his daddy; the girl who kissed a guy she never met at a club when she was 10 kilos heavier with post pregnancy weight, but felt hotter than she could ever feel these days; the girl who painted abstract crap and hung it on her wall shamelessly because it meant something to her, and started a blog and wrote 83 posts, consistently, every day, and then every week, and then every other week, but never stopped; the girl who, while raising a baby on her own managed to change her career around; the girl who fell in love, not only with a beautiful, free-spirited red-head, but with her brand new self.

I can’t go back now, I can’t. How could I ever give her up?

But I have. I am. I look back at that girl and I think I must have dreamt her. Just as I dreamt those enormous brown eyes that looked straight into my soul, and those big pouty lips that whispered “I love you” before they devoured me.


The Cockroach that Made Me Cry

7 Sep

Oh my God, I said into the phone. Shit. Shit. Shit. I can’t deal with this right now. Fuck. I gotta go. I gotta go. I gotta go.

It was a huge, ugly thing, standing on the windowsill in my kitchen (!) looking directly at me, with its horrible antennas twitching at me, like it was trying to pick a fight. And it would win. After having spent the morning consoling a feverish baby, then marking papers for hours, finishing a work meeting at nine P.M and sitting down to check yet more papers, this was going to be my 30 minute break, where I would have dinner and stare into nothing or talk about nothing on the phone with a friend who was also in desperate need of a break.

And there he was in all his horrid disgustingness, staring me down and I would have to deal with him.

I prayed. Please. Please! Go back outside. Then I cried. Nothing ever works out the way I want it to. It’s not fair.

It had been a rough week. First week of school, and in a new place, adjusting to a new system. Loads of work. Add to that BD going abroad and less help than I’m used to with our Boy. Add to that the fact that I’d been sick for a couple of days, and caring for a baby while taking endless painkillers. Add to that my best friend at the hospital, recovering from surgery, while I’m too sick to visit, and now my son spreading his germs everywhere, making it certain that I won’t be able to visit my friend even now that I’m finally well. Add to that a 37 page paper, boring as fuck, written by an aspiring English teacher who needs to be corrected on Present Simple that took me two hours to check.

And now this.

So I cried like a little girl. I said that the universe was against me, that it wasn’t fair.

And that’s when it happened. He took a step back. Then he crept back and now he was standing there, between the shutters and the windowpane, and I knew I had to act quickly.

I walked hesitantly toward the window, mumbling every curse word I could think of. Then twice reached over to the window but backed out. On the third try I managed to quickly shut the window, and I was saved.

It’s been a difficult year. And a difficult few months. And a difficult week. And a difficult day. And it would be a difficult night too.

But at least I didn’t have a cockroach in my kitchen anymore.