What The Hell Am I Doing Here?

As you all know, right now I’m living with my mother and step-father.  This was not my first, second, third, or even fourth choice of living arrangements for myself and my kids after Douche left us.  Because Douche was in the military, we never bought a home.  We moved from base to base every couple of years and lived in military housing.  We always dreamed about the house we would build in Texas after he retired (which now is only 9 years away).  When we divorced, I was out.  I had no home to fight for.  In financial terms, it was good that we didn’t own a home together.  In terms of security for the boys and me…not so good.

When he left last April, I had planned on working through the summer in Georgia, while the kids visited my mother and step-father here in Indiana.  I wanted them out and away from the turmoil that was going on, and since my mom’s a teacher, she would be able to take care of them during the day.  The plan was, I would save my money (I made a lot at that job) and by August, I would know whether the boys were coming back and we were staying, or I would join them in Indiana.  I didn’t want to leave my boss in the lurch, either.  I had only been at my job for about 8 months, and she had taught me everything about running the office.  I found out later that she wanted me to eventually take over as office manager.  She had worked so hard to train me, and I didn’t want to let her down.  I did pretty well until I found out about C*nt.  (Every time I type that, I say “See You Next Tuesday” in my mind). 

When that happened, I fell apart.  I couldn’t concentrate at work, I was botching things left and right.  I hit my breaking point when, after I had worked all day on the monthly accrual, I was told there was a mistake and I had to answer to the company’s controller.  I thought, “what am I doing here?”.  I slowly walked to my desk, gathered my things, and told my manager I quit.  I walked out and didn’t look back.  For weeks, they called and begged me to come back, but I knew there was no way I’d be able to do my work, nor did I think I could face any of them again. 

By now, it was June.  My kids were already in Indiana at this point, and I was alone in our home.  I hadn’t packed anything or changed anything, and Douche hadn’t been home for at least a month.  He wouldn’t talk to me.  I had filed for divorce, and figured I would leave for Indiana as soon as possible.  The only problem was, my lawyer told me not to leave.  He thought I should stay there in Georgia until we reached a settlement.  So I stayed.  I had enough money to last me, and I had some stashed away so I could go home to Texas like we had planned.  I was alone in that house through the month of June.  Just me and my little dog, Bevo.  When Honeywine had come in May, she and Tina had installed chain locks on every door, and I had bought some pepper spray, too.  I mostly stayed in the house, locked up, and I was NEVER without that pepper spray or my cell phone.  For some reason, I was very afraid that little miss C*nt would try to hurt me.  Why, I’m not sure.  My younger sister came to visit me once in June, and stayed about a week, I think.  She helped me to get my ass in gear and start going through things and packing.  I still didn’t know when I’d be able to leave. 

In July, I drove with my dog down to Texas (a 12-hour drive), stopping on the way in Louisiana to see Honeywine and some other friends there.  It was probably the first time I had laughed or smiled in months.  By now, I was on Lexapro, which is good for taking the edge off, but you still have feelings, so I actually felt like a person again.   The trip wasn’t a complete wash, despite having to get all scrappy.  I was able to see my kids for a week.  Considering I had never been separated from them for more than a day before this, we missed each other terribly and were happy to see each other after a month of being apart.  I spent about three weeks away from Georgia.  Away from the drama (at least the drama concerning my marriage) and where I didn’t have to think too much about what I was going to do next. 

Then, when I couldn’t put it off any longer, I drove back to Georgia and began sorting and packing.  I knew for sure what I had to do, even though I didn’t want to.  My step-dad and step-brother were flying down, we were renting a truck, and moving as much of my things as we could fit up to Indiana.  We arrived here on August 3, and I only had 5 days to get my kids ready for their new schools.  Luckily, this wasn’t such a big deal for them.  Being “Army Brats” meant that my oldest son had already attended 5 different schools, and my younger son, 2. 

At first, I was glad to have my parents’ support and guidance, but lately I have been terribly unhappy with the living situation.  Being 27 years old and being treated like a teenager is no picnic.  Because I’m unhappy, my kids are unhappy.  I see no way out in the near future.  I’m furious with the Douche for doing this to us.  I’m furious at myself for taking my situation for granted and not being more diligent about finishing college sooner.  I’m just tired of waiting for my life to begin.  You know, the fabulous one?  Yeah.

7 Responses to “What The Hell Am I Doing Here?”

  1. 1 Becky June 20, 2008 at 3:22 pm

    I’m so sorry. That’s such an impossible situation.

  2. 2 honeywine June 20, 2008 at 9:06 pm

    We miss Lexapro? 😦 Have you thought about my book club suggestion? Bring it up to your Mom. It would probably go a long way to breaking up the tension. Oh and I have great news! Your room has air conditioning AND a ceiling!!!!!!!! So you could totally just stay here! 😀

  3. 3 gingermagnolia June 21, 2008 at 11:23 am

    Becky – Yeah, it really is, on everyone.

    Honey – I don’t miss the Lexapro…much. She told me she was setting up a therapy session for all of us, but when the day came, it was really just for the two of us, and she talked the whole time. She then told the therapist that she would pay for me to see him a few time (since I don’t have insurance now). I think he could see exactly what our problems were the moment we walked in the door and she did all the talking… I SO wish I could just stay there. But, alas, I have blood family who want to see me, too. :p

  4. 4 honeywine June 21, 2008 at 9:40 pm

    Oh no she dint! Did he say anything to her at all? See, at least the book club would have had other people for her to focus on!

  5. 5 gingermagnolia June 22, 2008 at 2:02 pm

    Our “assignment” for the next session was to write down how we felt we had contributed to our “communication problems” and how we thought the other one had. Fun times. At least I know there is only one more session in the forseeable future. I’m pretty sure the guy felt my pain, though.

  6. 6 Bekki June 24, 2008 at 7:20 pm

    All I can think of is what an impossible situation this is for you. My heart breaks. I know that everyone is all “nuh-uh” about your living situation, but I can only feel sad that she doesn’t see the destruction her actions are causing, not to mention the pain. Sad face all over the place. 😦

  1. 1 FML « Names Have Been Changed….. Trackback on September 20, 2009 at 11:23 am

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