Mother’s day, packing and still no information
So, still no news. I’m kind of hoping this all just goes away if I ignore it long enough. I did okay at home but once I got here at work I felt so unsafe…exposed. I felt like they *know where I am* which completely messes with my sense of security. I’m not a part of that life anymore, with them, and it took so much to get away I really, really didn’t want to get dragged back in, no matter the issue. Curiosity though….*sigh* I keep picking up the phone and dialing the numbers…hanging up. (Why is the phone still in his name?) I don’t know if I could say anything if someone answered. The wife hates me so much and my dad isn’t particularly fond of me either, in his grave or out of it. If he answered, I don’t know what I’d do. I thought he was dead. If she answered, I don’t know what I’d do aside from stammer out some stupid question. What if he’s not dead buy dying? Would I have to go over there to make peace with him or something? I wasn’t given the opportunity to do that before but I wasn’t really all that miserable about it….I really don’t like to face this stuff. I had a hard enough time facing it in my own head….my memories, blank spots, the terror that raged inside me for so long…it took a part of my soul, processing all that. I guess that’s what I’m most afraid of. Having to face that again….the disappointment and the driving, twisting guilt and misery I have attached to these people. Now I’ve “hurt” them all by removing myself from their lives and I cannot deal with that. I just can’t. The snottiness in my mother’s recorded voice was almost more than I could handle. They just pull me back there….to that place where I used to be. I feel like I failed them all, despite the therapy and the logic that has drilled into my brain that it’s not me, not me, not mine, not mine….but it still is, somehow…you know? I don’t want to go back there. I’m afraid he’s still alive, but dying. I’m afraid he wants to see me…or, worse, doesn’t want to see me at all. Maybe he’s calling to see Colt? (I thought I was already free of this! It’s like he’s come back from the dead to get one last dig in). Why would he want to see Colt? He left our lives when Colt was a toddler and never bothered to engage or care again. Why NOW?
I’m driving myself crazy, doing this.
Over the weekend I packed a ton of stuff, keeping my mind busy. I had to go through three bins of baby stuff, which broke my heart. I always thought I’d be going through those bins of tiny clothes, little shoes and impossibly tiny socks with the joy of another baby being on the way. I imagined a girlfriend (or my mom) coming over to help me sort through everything, picking out the items that were gender neutral for the first few months….fawning over the little memories each piece pulled up, thinking about how Colt would be a big brother soon. lol…ohhh hormones/turning 40/hopelessness of life. I bawled thorough most of it. I had a big white pad of paper on the floor where I was taking photos of the like-new things I was thinking of selling rather than donating to a second hand store but I had to keep putting new pages down because I kept dripping tears on it as I laid the tiny things out. Colt came down at one point, took one look at me, my tears and a sleeper with feet clutched in my hands and turned on his heels to go immediately back upstairs. Dayne came in and asked how it was going. “I’m saaaaaaaaad!” I wailed.
He gave me a hug and said stupid things like ‘It’s okay, we can adopt if you want….foster? We can foster?” Haha…poor guy. It was a stupid thing to do on Mother’s Day but we’re moving soon and I couldn’t just keep avoiding those bins of stuff. They were watching me as I moved around the room. Anyway. Only one more to go and I’m done that little bit of emotional exposure.
We went out for breakfast on Mother’s Day – we go out for breakfast quite a bit on weekends so it wasn’t exactly a huge deal but Dayne and Colt took me to Sephora (make up paradise) to get a treat for myself afterwards, so that was sweet. I don’t wear a lot of make up at all but I do love the little touches like awesome mascara and pretty eye shadows. I got a neutral palate for my eyes and a roller ball of a new perfume I found that I am in love with. I can’t wear it to work, of course, but I can at home. I snuck a teeny bit on today and I can smell it when I move, a little bit. The coworker who has breathing fits whenever she smells someone’s hairspray just came to chat and didn’t so much as sniffle so I think I’m home free on this one.
Every time the phone rings I nearly throw up. I’m going to have to make that call eventually, aren’t I? Crap. :S
Well now. It’s two hours into the day and I’ve done nothing but answer the phone a few times and shuffle things around my desk. Better get moving before this day gets completely out of hand.