Today was not a good day. I knew there'd be shit coming down the pike, but effingA, really? We had a "retrospective" of the FSR process for a project that I'm working on. I'm the project manager, and it's my first FSR..I volunteered for it for the experience.
Well, the project gets started in late March, and the paper is due by the end of June. It's about technical crap that I know nothing about, so I rely heavily on the technical staff. Of course, the husband has his knee scoped in March, then busts the femur in 3 places April 2nd. I have to spend a week in Reno for his surgery, then have to adjust 2 weeks because he's not allowed any weight anywhere. This impacts my project paper schedule. Then Mom ends up in the hospital in May. Then the husband and I separate (cuz the jerk is driving when he isn't supposed to, and I can't babysit him as I'm the only one working, so I send him to Mommy), and Mom ends up back in the hospital in June and spends a week during which I get sideswipped in my car, and my Uncle dies. I spend 6 out of the 7 days there and am the only one with her when she draws her last breath. Then I'm funeral planning the rest of the week. I go in for 3 days and take another week off to deal with the funeral and relatives. Yes, the paper does get done, but I have no back up. So what happens today???
The second statement brought up is "The project manager is unavailable and no suitable backup". The facilitator says, in front of a room full of people, "I'd like to know the story behind this". I did not tell everyone about my personal issues. Now they're expecting me to talk about it or be rude and say that it's none of their business and put the facilitator on the spot (which I should've done). I state that although it's personal, this is what happened and give a rough overview. I'm seething. They want to know if the project sponsor is aware of all the details. I said no. My manager is aware of all the details, but it wasn't advertised on the inside net, and I didn't go into many details with everyone else. WTF!!! I manage to hold it together, but later break down when telling someone I'm thinking of avoiding Christmas and heading off to Nebraska.
Then I'm on the phone with one of the key players of the project and break down again. I've cried over my mother-in-law, but I really haven't let loose over the loss of her and my marriage, etc. I'm stretched very thin and am expecting to snap. I'm trying to hold out till vacation in October (which Sammy Hagar's website managed to shaft me on tickets to the birthday bash on the 13th), and just breathe, but it's not happening. By the time I run out of the building, I'm sobbing hysterically and continue to do so through most of the drive home. Now my "business" is out in a workplace of 6,000 people? Really? Was it really necessary for me to explain my absence, when I'm one of the most dedicated idiots around? Effing A, my whole month off in October is furlough hours. It's costing the state a mint of money, since I'm not using vacation. REALLY???
I'm sorry fellow readers that I'm so full of hostility, anger and hurt right now. I'm ranting, but this isn't really the kind of rants I want to do. But I am letting it out here, so please bear with me. Why am I not enough? Why does my husband finally push me over the edge? We were supposed to be married forever! I'm supposed to be more important than alcohol! But I am not enough. I gave him everything I had, and now I'm empty and I'm afraid that I wont have anything left to give anyone else. I put off marriage until 30 so I could make an informed decision. I gave up having children for him (alcohol killed the sperm)! And while the intelligent side of me know that half of this is my fault, I can't help but resent the shit out of him for the other half. I'm exhausted...I'm going to bed, although sleep will elude me yet again, as it has since March 20th.
Who would want this wreak, this shell of a person?
Subscribe To Diz Rant
Posts
All Comments
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Where Am I?
Good Lord, I don't know where I'm at. I have good days and bad days. Tonight is a bad night. I'm filled with doubts and misgivings. I've made my decisions and I'm headed for divorce, but the road sucks.
I bitch and moan, but basically my husband is a good man. He has only two faults (I wish mine were limited to two), procrastination and drinking. I can live with the procrastination, but the drinking has taken me over the edge. He's not a mean drunk, he waxes philosophical. But the decisions he makes while drinking leaves me vulnerable. In our discussions, he want's to blame himself, but if I am honest, it's half my fault.
I grew up in an alcoholic household. He felt comfortable. Plus, I was stupid...after all the meetings I've attended, i.e. adult children of Alcoholics, etc. I knew I shouldn't have married him. I wanted to believe he'd change for a family. I wanted to believe I could change him...my love could change him. He never pretended to be anything he wasn't. When we talk he says that he could change for me. I remind him that he hasn't in the past so why now? I also ask him why? Why should you, when you never pretended to be anything that you weren't? Why shouldn't someone love you for who you are...faults and all.
That's what scares me so. Will someone love me for who I am, faults and all? I know my "soon to be ex-husband" loves me. Will someone love me in the future, or will I be alone due to my choices. I'm really trying to hold on till vacation cuz it's been such a difficult year. I lost a mentor, a family friend, my MIL, who loves me better than my mother does, now a husband. How much more can I really take?
Everyone always asks me..."How's Norman (the husband)?" How's Ken (the FIL)?" No one asks about me (well, Nola and my fellow bloggers do), but the people that surround me don't. They know I'm the strong one, that I make the decisions, that I'm the "go-to-girl" but how much longer can I be that before I snap? How strong am I really? So, nights like these, the doubts creep in, and I no longer believe I'm Super Woman. I curl up in the fetal position under a blanket, drink tequila and tell myself that I'll feel differently in the morning. That I'll wake up and do what I have to do, do my job, take care of the house, smile and pretend that everything is ok.
No one thinks that I'm mourning for my MIL. That I walk into her knitting room and my breath is taken away by all the projects that are not completed by her. That I lift a beautiful pink and white jacket that she knitted and hold it close and wish that she was still here. My fingers trace the outline of the unfinished threads in blankets that will never keep my soul warm. My hands pick up the jewelry that she left behind and wonder what to do with it. Do I wear it in her honor? Who can I give it to that will appreciate it? Do I let the sunlight never hit it, hidden away in jewelry boxes that don't tell the opener of her life, her accomplishments or the thoughts she was thinking when she put them in there?
I'm restricting my drinking to the weekends, but I worry that something won't be enough. I'm worried that I'm going to let some detail important to my projects at work slip, I'm worried that someone will say something at work that will set me off, and I'll let all the pent up rage, frustration, guilt and whatever else is there fly out in a violent stream of four-letter words that I can't take back. Can I hold on till October 1st? Can I click my heels together 3 times and suddenly be on vacation? Will I be ok? Will I be loved and will I love again? I don't know.
I do know that I'm a survivor. That I've survived a lot of really shitty things in my life and that I'll survive this. That others have survived worse than I have, and if they can do it, I can. But what is the cost?
I'm sorry. Tomorrow, I'll suck it up and get off my pity-pot. Tonight...well, we'll see.
I bitch and moan, but basically my husband is a good man. He has only two faults (I wish mine were limited to two), procrastination and drinking. I can live with the procrastination, but the drinking has taken me over the edge. He's not a mean drunk, he waxes philosophical. But the decisions he makes while drinking leaves me vulnerable. In our discussions, he want's to blame himself, but if I am honest, it's half my fault.
I grew up in an alcoholic household. He felt comfortable. Plus, I was stupid...after all the meetings I've attended, i.e. adult children of Alcoholics, etc. I knew I shouldn't have married him. I wanted to believe he'd change for a family. I wanted to believe I could change him...my love could change him. He never pretended to be anything he wasn't. When we talk he says that he could change for me. I remind him that he hasn't in the past so why now? I also ask him why? Why should you, when you never pretended to be anything that you weren't? Why shouldn't someone love you for who you are...faults and all.
That's what scares me so. Will someone love me for who I am, faults and all? I know my "soon to be ex-husband" loves me. Will someone love me in the future, or will I be alone due to my choices. I'm really trying to hold on till vacation cuz it's been such a difficult year. I lost a mentor, a family friend, my MIL, who loves me better than my mother does, now a husband. How much more can I really take?
Everyone always asks me..."How's Norman (the husband)?" How's Ken (the FIL)?" No one asks about me (well, Nola and my fellow bloggers do), but the people that surround me don't. They know I'm the strong one, that I make the decisions, that I'm the "go-to-girl" but how much longer can I be that before I snap? How strong am I really? So, nights like these, the doubts creep in, and I no longer believe I'm Super Woman. I curl up in the fetal position under a blanket, drink tequila and tell myself that I'll feel differently in the morning. That I'll wake up and do what I have to do, do my job, take care of the house, smile and pretend that everything is ok.
No one thinks that I'm mourning for my MIL. That I walk into her knitting room and my breath is taken away by all the projects that are not completed by her. That I lift a beautiful pink and white jacket that she knitted and hold it close and wish that she was still here. My fingers trace the outline of the unfinished threads in blankets that will never keep my soul warm. My hands pick up the jewelry that she left behind and wonder what to do with it. Do I wear it in her honor? Who can I give it to that will appreciate it? Do I let the sunlight never hit it, hidden away in jewelry boxes that don't tell the opener of her life, her accomplishments or the thoughts she was thinking when she put them in there?
I'm restricting my drinking to the weekends, but I worry that something won't be enough. I'm worried that I'm going to let some detail important to my projects at work slip, I'm worried that someone will say something at work that will set me off, and I'll let all the pent up rage, frustration, guilt and whatever else is there fly out in a violent stream of four-letter words that I can't take back. Can I hold on till October 1st? Can I click my heels together 3 times and suddenly be on vacation? Will I be ok? Will I be loved and will I love again? I don't know.
I do know that I'm a survivor. That I've survived a lot of really shitty things in my life and that I'll survive this. That others have survived worse than I have, and if they can do it, I can. But what is the cost?
I'm sorry. Tomorrow, I'll suck it up and get off my pity-pot. Tonight...well, we'll see.
Where Am I?
Good Lord, I don't know where I'm at. I have good days and bad days. Tonight is a bad night. I'm filled with doubts and misgivings. I've made my decisions and I'm headed for divorce, but the road sucks.
I bitch and moan, but basically my husband is a good man. He has only two faults (I wish mine were limited to two), procrastination and drinking. I can live with the procrastination, but the drinking has taken me over the edge. He's not a mean drunk, he waxes philosophical. But the decisions he makes while drinking leaves me vulnerable. In our discussions, he want's to blame himself, but if I am honest, it's half my fault.
I grew up in an alcoholic household. He felt comfortable. Plus, I was stupid...after all the meetings I've attended, i.e. adult children of Alcoholics, etc. I knew I shouldn't have married him. I wanted to believe he'd change for a family. I wanted to believe I could change him...my love could change him. He never pretended to be anything he wasn't. When we talk he says that he could change for me. I remind him that he hasn't in the past so why now? I also ask him why? Why should you, when you never pretended to be anything that you weren't? Why shouldn't someone love you for who you are...faults and all.
That's what scares me so. Will someone love me for who I am, faults and all? I know my "soon to be ex-husband" loves me. Will someone love me in the future, or will I be alone due to my choices. I'm really trying to hold on till vacation cuz it's been such a difficult year. I lost a mentor, a family friend, my MIL, who loves me better than my mother does, now a husband. How much more can I really take?
Everyone always asks me..."How's Norman (the husband)?" How's Ken (the FIL)?" No one asks about me (well, Nola and my fellow bloggers do), but the people that surround me don't. They know I'm the strong one, that I make the decisions, that I'm the "go-to-girl" but how much longer can I be that before I snap? How strong am I really? So, nights like these, the doubts creep in, and I no longer believe I'm Super Woman. I curl up in the fetal position under a blanket, drink tequila and tell myself that I'll feel differently in the morning. That I'll wake up and do what I have to do, do my job, take care of the house, smile and pretend that everything is ok.
No one thinks that I'm mourning for my MIL. That I walk into her knitting room and my breath is taken away by all the projects that are not completed by her. That I lift a beautiful pink and white jacket that she knitted and hold it close and wish that she was still here. My fingers trace the outline of the unfinished threads in blankets that will never keep my soul warm. My hands pick up the jewelry that she left behind and wonder what to do with it. Do I wear it in her honor? Who can I give it to that will appreciate it? Do I let the sunlight never hit it, hidden away in jewelry boxes that don't tell the opener of her life, her accomplishments or the thoughts she was thinking when she put them in there?
I'm restricting my drinking to the weekends, but I worry that something won't be enough. I'm worried that I'm going to let some detail important to my projects at work slip, I'm worried that someone will say something at work that will set me off, and I'll let all the pent up rage, frustration, guilt and whatever else is there fly out in a violent stream of four-letter words that I can't take back. Can I hold on till October 1st? Can I click my heels together 3 times and suddenly be on vacation? Will I be ok? Will I be loved and will I love again? I don't know.
I do know that I'm a survivor. That I've survived a lot of really shitty things in my life and that I'll survive this. That others have survived worse than I have, and if they can do it, I can. But what is the cost?
I'm sorry. Tomorrow, I'll suck it up and get off my pity-pot. Tonight...well, we'll see.
I bitch and moan, but basically my husband is a good man. He has only two faults (I wish mine were limited to two), procrastination and drinking. I can live with the procrastination, but the drinking has taken me over the edge. He's not a mean drunk, he waxes philosophical. But the decisions he makes while drinking leaves me vulnerable. In our discussions, he want's to blame himself, but if I am honest, it's half my fault.
I grew up in an alcoholic household. He felt comfortable. Plus, I was stupid...after all the meetings I've attended, i.e. adult children of Alcoholics, etc. I knew I shouldn't have married him. I wanted to believe he'd change for a family. I wanted to believe I could change him...my love could change him. He never pretended to be anything he wasn't. When we talk he says that he could change for me. I remind him that he hasn't in the past so why now? I also ask him why? Why should you, when you never pretended to be anything that you weren't? Why shouldn't someone love you for who you are...faults and all.
That's what scares me so. Will someone love me for who I am, faults and all? I know my "soon to be ex-husband" loves me. Will someone love me in the future, or will I be alone due to my choices. I'm really trying to hold on till vacation cuz it's been such a difficult year. I lost a mentor, a family friend, my MIL, who loves me better than my mother does, now a husband. How much more can I really take?
Everyone always asks me..."How's Norman (the husband)?" How's Ken (the FIL)?" No one asks about me (well, Nola and my fellow bloggers do), but the people that surround me don't. They know I'm the strong one, that I make the decisions, that I'm the "go-to-girl" but how much longer can I be that before I snap? How strong am I really? So, nights like these, the doubts creep in, and I no longer believe I'm Super Woman. I curl up in the fetal position under a blanket, drink tequila and tell myself that I'll feel differently in the morning. That I'll wake up and do what I have to do, do my job, take care of the house, smile and pretend that everything is ok.
No one thinks that I'm mourning for my MIL. That I walk into her knitting room and my breath is taken away by all the projects that are not completed by her. That I lift a beautiful pink and white jacket that she knitted and hold it close and wish that she was still here. My fingers trace the outline of the unfinished threads in blankets that will never keep my soul warm. My hands pick up the jewelry that she left behind and wonder what to do with it. Do I wear it in her honor? Who can I give it to that will appreciate it? Do I let the sunlight never hit it, hidden away in jewelry boxes that don't tell the opener of her life, her accomplishments or the thoughts she was thinking when she put them in there?
I'm restricting my drinking to the weekends, but I worry that something won't be enough. I'm worried that I'm going to let some detail important to my projects at work slip, I'm worried that someone will say something at work that will set me off, and I'll let all the pent up rage, frustration, guilt and whatever else is there fly out in a violent stream of four-letter words that I can't take back. Can I hold on till October 1st? Can I click my heels together 3 times and suddenly be on vacation? Will I be ok? Will I be loved and will I love again? I don't know.
I do know that I'm a survivor. That I've survived a lot of really shitty things in my life and that I'll survive this. That others have survived worse than I have, and if they can do it, I can. But what is the cost?
I'm sorry. Tomorrow, I'll suck it up and get off my pity-pot. Tonight...well, we'll see.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)