Wilting

     So, it's 130am and I'm still very far from sleep.  I actually got about 7 hours of sleep last night and woke up 2 hours before my alarm this morning.  I'm noticing a pattern here:  2 days up, at least a few hours of sleep on the 3rd day.  A full night if I'm really lucky.  So I did what I always do when I get up or give up on trying to get sleep:  I start my coffee pot, read my emails, check out the school's website for anything I might need to know for the Fall semester, sign onto Facebook, play a few minutes of the current game addiction, and start my day.  First thing I see this morning is this on several status posts: 

I was going to complain about how hot it was today, but then I realized:
1. it isn't 109 degrees;
2. I'm not 5,700+ miles from home;
3. I'm not dressed in a full BDU uniform and helmet and carrying 70+ lbs.;
4. there is very little chance that anyone will shoot at me or that I might drive over a bomb in the road today!
Thanks to all who serve.
Repost so they all know how thankful we are for our Freedom!

     Keep in mind that we've been dealing with triple-digit temperatures and heat indices lately.  I have yet to post on FB about this wretched weather and humidity.  My hair pretty much says it all.  Of course the first thing I did when I read this was resist the urge to cry.  I was kind of engaged (he asked, but promised a beautiful ring when he had the money, but neither happened) to a Marine who was deployed to Iraq 2 years ago.  It's amazing how fast memories and feelings can return with the Tiniest little thing.  I put myself through absolute hell and went through absolute hell for 9 months.  I give an enormous amount of credit to military wives/husbands with or without children.  Under the best of circumstances it's hard.  Trying to play the peacemaker to a severely dysfunctional family and their soldier while dealing with an injury that requires surgery but never healed right and coping with an ill parent hospitalized for a life altering problem, knowing he has at least one other girlfriend on the side, listening to constant abuse from his father but afraid to not answer the phone because it might be "that call," and just getting through day to day things is damn near impossible.  But I did it.  I knew he was cheating just before he left, caught him cheating again during training, and received copies of emails, including X-rated chats and "I love yous" while he was overseas.  Yet I stayed.  My biggest fear was that if I tried walking away or brought up any major problems, he would be distracted from his job and end up getting himself killed.  This was even though I knew he spent most of his days shuffling paperwork in an office while watching movies then getting off to play video games and watch more movies or tv until he went to sleep.  Not exactly a tough gig.  But there was always that danger present, so I remained silent.  I had already been blacklisted by his dysfunctional family for speaking up about his father's sexual abuse toward me and his lack of even trying to stand beside me.  I should just do what they do:  stay silent, pretend it never happened, plaster a Prozac smile on my face, and carry on.  I can't even watch a television commercial promoting a new show about these wars, or praising our brave men and women, or announcing the homecoming or death of a soldier without feeling like I'm going to be sick.  Even now.  I didn't even get a hug or kiss when he arrived home because his father wouldn't allow it and for the first time ever, my ex was made to feel like he finally mattered to that monster.  Even if that "pride" was nothing more than a way to gain attention from people, a way to profit for his "stress" and the fact that he actually did something that monster wanted him to do.  And I was left with nothing but difficult decisions to make, pain, and scars I don't know are ever going to heal. 

     I did realize today that I'm no longer angry with my ex.  Yes, he cheated on me with more people in the 3 and a half years we were together than I've dated in the last 16 years.  Yes, he constantly made me feel inadequate if not outright worthless more often than not.  And yes, I can't honestly say that he meant anything he ever said or did.  Part of me wants to believe I meant something to him or he wouldn't have stayed with me so long, but when I think about everything that he did and how horribly he hurt me for no other reason than his own gratification or familial and peer acceptance, I honestly don't know.  The night he left my house when we decided we were going to take some time and think about what we wanted to do, he promised he was only a call or text away and would always love me.  Yet as soon as he pulled out of my driveway, he went straight into his psychotic, immature, manipulative, disgusting ex's bed.  And the beds of every other person that acknowledged he existed.  He blew me off and ruined my birthday, never even answered a call, text, or email when I held my dog for the last time and she died in my arms, then ended our relationship in an email on FB blaming ME! 

     I have absolutely no idea why I stayed with him for so long.  But I realized today that while I'm no longer angry at him, I'm angry at myself.  Why did I stay so long having learned my lessons years earlier the hard way about abuse and cheating?  How stupid am I to do such a stupid thing?  And then, after all of that, begin a relationship with a guy I was introduced to by a friend of 16 years who said she knew him.... we started out as friends; we'd trade sarcastic jokes and jabs at each other online, spend hours talking in instant messenger (he was in the Army stationed in Iraq... that should have been my first clue to run), then began spending every night talking on Skype shortly after my ex sent that email.  He capitalized on a horrible situation and preyed on my vulnerability.  He knew what to say, how to say it, when to say it, and seemed like he genuinely cared.  He bought me my favourite flowers for V-Day, a small, personal gift for my birthday, made sure he told me how much he loved me at every opportunity, listened when I spoke.. but that too was a lie.  Even though he was legally separated, he was trying to make up with his wife.  Plus he had several girlfriends in addition to me that he lied about.  They were all just friends from school, wives of other soldiers, etc.  And I saw none of it coming until he too, sent me an email.  Even then he couldn't be honest.  He "will forever love me... I'm an amazing woman that he doesn't want to lose...he's doing this to protect himself from his 'bitch and psycho of a soon to be ex wife..."  All of it was a lie.  And I regret everything that happened between us.  But I can't change the past.  I've accepted it and forgiven them for being such hurtful, sorry males, but I can't find a way to move on from it.  How do you learn to trust people after that?  I find myself thinking, re-thinking, and questioning everything everyone says or does that hasn't been part of my life for years.  And it's not fair to others.  Or myself.  

     Then there was this afternoon and evening.  Back in April I was stopped for having a headlamp out in a ticket happy town.  It had been out since that Friday, but I immediately went that afternoon to buy the new light only for it to start raining that night and discover late the following afternoon that my father, the one with all the tools, didn't have the right size socket.  He either left it at a job site (something that's not all that uncommon with small, rarely used sockets) or I had lost it the last time I replaced my headlights.  No shops are open on Sundays, so I was going to take it to a shop the following morning.  Naturally, I was pulled over Sunday evening on my way home from dinner.  I had no real problem with the $54 ticket other than having to pay a $54 ticket, but I didn't find my car's registration card immediately.  The officer said he was going to run my license then come back to see if I found it.  I found it buried in the back of my glove box the moment he opened his patrol car's door.  Now I was taught that if you get pulled over, shut the radio off, turn your interior light on, and keep your hands where the officer can see you at all times, not moving unless asked to.  If you watch the news at all, you'll realize there is no such thing as a "routine traffic stop."  So I wasn't about to try to get out of my car to hand it to him.  With my luck, I'd end up getting shot, so I just waited for him to return.  I guess he decided that since he was already in his car, he would just write me up a 2nd ticket for failure to produce while he was there.  When he handed me the 2 tickets, he saw my registration in my hand and said to just call, plead not guilty, show the prosecutor my paperwork, and the ticket would be dismissed (with court fees, of course).  That's exactly what I tried to do the next day.  When I read the ticket number to the incompetent court clerk the next day and said I was pleading not guilty, she informed me that there was a second ticket as if I didn't know.  I simply explained that I was going to pay it the following week either online or in person since I was driving with a light out.  It turns out she entered nothing into the computer so I received a summons in the mail about a missed court date.  By that time, I had already paid the light ticket, so I went in person to find out when I was supposed to appear.  That date was tonight.  I spent the morning driving to and from campus to take care of tuition paperwork, then the afternoon at the doctor's office.  After having drawn 18 vials of blood (yes, 18... that's not a typo), he wanted me to try out a new medication when I got home.  There was an excellent chance I would be in no shape to appear in front of a judge, so I stopped on my way home to try to reschedule.  And I was not only told no, but yelled at because it was not only an inconvenience to them, but "too old" of a ticket.  I was tired, hot, in pain, and just plain out of patience by the time I showed up in her office.  She was the same one who screwed up my paperwork in the first place, yet here she is getting nasty with me.  So I told her in no uncertain terms exactly how I felt.  (She was the same incompetent jackass who screwed up and had me arrested like I was some kind of drug dealer or murderer over a speeding ticket 10 years ago.)  I was just a bit out of patience.  Damn me for making someone actually do their job, but double damn me for trying to make her do it right.  I was told to show up an hour before court if I wanted to speak to the prosecutor.  Traffic court was expected to start at 7, so I showed up at 6:10 only to find the doors to the building locked.  It's 95 degrees, heat indices still over 100, disgustingly humid, and we're expected to stand outside until who knows when.  The officer let her in when she showed up at 6:30, but we weren't allowed to enter the building until 7.  It's been 10 years since I've been to traffic court.  Now we have to go through security screenings just to enter the building.  I was definitely glad I didn't wear a belt, because we even had to take those off to go through the metal detector.  I was amazed at what people find appropriate to wear in court.  Or look like, for that matter.  There was a young guy, probably about 20, in an expensive dress shirt, tie, slacks, and huge hickeys all over his neck.  Classy.  Then another kid showed up in knee length denim shorts 10 sizes too big for him so that they sagged below his crack (a pretty common theme among many there) and a shirt that was stained and torn apart in places.  He wasn't coming from work.  Turns out that's how he dressed when he showed up with his mother.  One woman was asked to change her outfit since it looked like she had just left a Playboy party (and I wish I had taken a picture of the officer's face when her mother wasn't dressed any better), and so on.  As I'm standing in line, there was an 18 year old girl behind me who whined about everything.  She was pretty familiar with how traffic court works, but has yet to learn how to drive or get her car fixed.  All the while, her mother stood there playing Solitaire on her cell phone.  If there weren't 5 armed officers right there, I probably would have slapped her.  I chose to tell her what I thought about her incessant whining and her lack of respect for personal space.  The cops just laughed at her.  Nothing was started until 7:45 and court itself started just after 8pm.  So I got the ticket dismissed, paid my $35 court fee, and came home.  Next time I think I'll take my chances at getting shot if this ever happens again.