So. It’s been a while. I really need to write more. This is my journal after all and getting everything out should help me work towards healing… Right?
Well, the biggest news, I guess, is that I’m getting everything pulled together and think we’ll be heading back to court to revise the visitation arrangements for Sam. Based on stunts he and the visitation supervisors pulled the weekend of 07/30/11.
I seriously do not understand anything he does. Why? Why? Why would he think that he won’t be caught in his lies? And they’re not even just to me – so really, he shouldn’t be able to blame it on me, right? Will there ever be a time when he stops lying? Have I said it here before, I don’t know: Sam couldn’t tell the truth if it crawled into his mouth and tried to jump out. I don’t know why I keep forgetting that. I don’t know why I revert to expecting that he’ll be truthful with some one – any one. But I don’t think he can… And here I sit spinning my wheels trying to figure something out that really isn’t logical and probably won’t ever be clear.
What I need to do is just accept that he lies. Sam lies. Actually, that reminds me of one of the songs about Joe by Corey in the movie “Say Anything”: “Joe lies… Joe lies… Joe lies… when he cries.” Funny. (snerk) I haven’t thought of that movie in ages and funny, I’d always thought of myself as more like the character Diane Court rather than Corey, but here I am: Sam lies…
OK. Back to me. I’ve actually been pretty good so far this week (it’s only Tuesday…) I’ve signed up for a women’s only self-defense class at the local university and I’m looking to see what other evening classes I might want to take. It’s crazy how excited I am about that.
Actually looking back over the past week, I feel a bit all over the board. I’m down, I’m up, I’m happy, I’m scared, I’m elated… It doesn’t feel normal. But then for years, my feelings weren’t really mine, I guess. How I felt was determined by how much Sam did or did not drink. It was determined by if Sam had a really bad day at work and therefore Max and I had to tiptoe around the house – in the dark usually – so that Sam didn’t direct that anger at us. It was determined by if Sam’s new co-workers or new boss thought he was “God” (according to Sam) (not a god, mind you, God) – because if they did, it was OK to smile and laugh.
So I guess, this is normal?: feeling my own feelings because I actually feel them. It feels strange.