“You seem angry.”
I like my therapist. I started going to him not long after my husband moved out and he even reduced his rate a bit to see me. He never pushes me too hard, or blames everything on my childhood. (I hate that).
And he seems to abhor Dr. Phil as much as I do.
But right now I feel like punching the shit out of him.
“Wow Doc, is that your professional opinion?”
I look out the window and chew on my bottom lip before I have to see him smirk.
I hate when he does that.
Posted by storm on October 10, 2012
https://theburnpile.com/2012/10/10/therapy/
After the incident at the house, my husband apologized for upsetting me.
In a text message.
He stated that he could see by how upset I was that I was obviously hurting as much as he was.
Huh.
The mask might be working too well.
He suggested that if it made me feel more comfortable, he could let me know when he needed to stop by the house.
I suggested that he not come by the house at all.
That went over about as well as can be expected.
Posted by storm on August 31, 2012
https://theburnpile.com/2012/08/31/ghost/
“Well, I see that you don’t want me here, so I’ll go. Do you mind if I leave the equipment? ”
What?! No you can’t leave it here!
(My inner voice was getting angry).
“…I can come back early in the morning and get it.” he said.
WTF IS HE SMOKING? HE DON’T LIVE HERE ANYMORE!
(Why does my inner voice suddenly sound like Afro Samurai’s alter ego Ninja?).
Posted by storm on July 19, 2012
https://theburnpile.com/2012/07/19/conflict/
I wake up the morning before Christmas in a full on panic.
Not about the holiday itself mind you.
Years ago my brothers and I stopped exchanging gifts because of the sheer angst and fights the event would cause.
Nope. My fear is entirely based on one frightening thought.
What if he doesn’t leave?
Now that I’ve gotten on the separation train, I’ve been impatiently waiting for it to leave the station.
But the doors are closing, and he’s still not on board.
Funny thing is. He bought the tickets!
So I do what I always do when I’m stressed or a little confused.
I make a list.
Posted by storm on April 15, 2012
https://theburnpile.com/2012/04/15/cancel-christmas-2/
“I’m not asking you to take everything that you own, just maybe take 2 large suitcases and your computer and your drives and your shoes and…”
“All right, all right. Stop.”
“Ok. Ok.”
I had both of my palms up facing him in the universal body language for ‘no offense, calm down.’
I’ve swung to other end of the spectrum.
Now I can’t get him out of the house fast enough.
The dance continued until the week before Christmas when my mother had asked for the 10th time whether or not we were coming or not and could we bring our own food, since we don’t eat turkey and she has no idea what to make for us and my brother brought a gallon of soy eggnog for us and we had better be coming because Daddy’s not going to drink it.
So thoughtful, my brother.
Posted by storm on April 13, 2012
https://theburnpile.com/2012/04/13/leave-2/
After weeks of going back and forth, we were living like boyfriend and girlfriend as opposed to husband and wife.
Oh wait, no. Boyfriends and girlfriends have sex don’t they?
So yeah no.
We were like roommates who happened to share a bed.
He would do small things for me, like paint things, but not pay any bills or make any commitments.
Although he’d asked for the separation…
he.just.wouldn’t.leave.
In fact, most days, he would act as if nothing was wrong at all.
It was weird. He was still going to his part-time job, (I think.) Still working on his various creative projects. Acting like nothing was wrong to his family and friends.
He was still coming home every night.
He seemed to be completely ignoring the big-ass neon sign that was now hanging over his head like a mutant SIMS plumbob that read:
Posted by storm on April 12, 2012
https://theburnpile.com/2012/04/12/neon/
Hey there. *waves* This is the first of a series of posts about the subsequent end of my marriage. Let’s get one thing out of the way right off. THIS BLOG IS NOT ABOUT BASHING MY HUSBAND. This is not going to be another blog about some woman wailing about how unfair life is and what an evil man her two-timing spouse is, or how she set fire to all of his belongings stuffed into his late-model luxury car in a vicadin-vodka-induced rage. (Although nothing about divorce is really fair, and I do reserve the right to wail at will). This is also not going to be about how you can “stick” it to your spouse and get him for all he’s worth if you too are going through this process.
This is a recounting, a journal, a memoir of sorts of what is proving to be one of the most difficult times in my life.
Ever.
I’m just starting this journey.
Posted by storm on April 3, 2012
https://theburnpile.com/2012/04/03/welcome/
theburnpile 