Who was I kidding

Yesterday was the day that I felt the most intense pain. My son is in trouble...17 year old and in trouble with law. I know he "acted out" because of his pain with G leaving, so may the judge have mercy. But yesterday I had a meltdown. I CalkeG and he just listened and stayed quiet. I didn't want him to say anything and he didn

Regarding Henry --- err, I mean George

I want to retract a statement.
I was upset that he quit alcohol for the other woman, and that the fact that he couldn't do that for me.

Well, that is untrue. He tried very hard, many many times. Over and over. He'd
try to "cut down," and he even tried doing a lame attempt at outreaching to professional help ... he never followed up on that.

So that makes me think how I need to focus on how alcohol, especially a bottle every night, is going to gradually start deteriorating you, if you are highly stressed, overwhelmed, depressed, and mourning.

This led to the loss of his moral compass.... and then the new vice came in.

Alcohol is so embedded in self, in his identity, in his family ... george is alcohol, and alcohol is george.

I know that i have been splitting apart the man, all these years. Just seeing him
for his beauty....for all the good things....for his old-self.

BUT now i have to see him for what he is today, and I can never forgive him.
I mean, forgive yes, but not forgive him in the sense of ever taking him back.
I have to accept that the old George is gone. The man who cared, the man who
would of died for us, the man who had morals and values.
Well-meaning Christian family and friends encouraged me to pray for my husband
to heal and that he'd eventually come back. I asked God for a sign, and i am accepting the conversations of my father, Fernie.

He explained to me that George's love for me was never a healthy one. Not the kind of love that that is pure and unconditional.

He said that what George felt for me was very deep and real, but it was more of a fear that he was having. He felt deep gratefulness that i gave him a home and children, and I was there for him, because he was afraid of being alone.

BUT now that he got his bariatric surgery, he felt like he had a life to live out there and screwed us over. And that is something i should never forgive, if he
ever came back knocking on my door, for one sole reason. If he betrayed me at such a horrible, cruel, evil level , then he could do it again to me. He is not stable.

And with this understanding, i went on to a different kind of mourning.

I am at another grief level, i guess. The angry-disbelief phase, which ever that may be, lol.

i keep trying to put the puzzle together. i just can't. it hurts to omuch to do so, and I wonder if this is important in the grieving process, or can i just skip this altogether, lol?

The way he has hurt me, is like so so so deep, like if he took a machete and just chopped me and my kids into tiny bloody chunks.

if he came back to me one day, healed, on the wagon for a long time, with true remorse .... i could not forgive the man with the machete.

I am not going to lie. Oh how i would be tempted. how i would want to. how i would want to believe .... how i could easily get weak. my arms still ache for the old, good, wise, george.

Even now, when the door bell rang, i secretly wished it was him.
But when i realize its not, i thank GOD that it wasn't.

i got to give myself a break, its only been six weeks since he left me.

I HAVE to keep working on seeing him for what he has become (vile) and not the George that I have on a pedestal that I call the "old George."

Because the "old george" is dead.

Today i finally got the confirmation of what I already knew already.
'the other woman" really exists, and that is the primary reason he left.

what angers me, is how i super-focused on how I failed him and now i start listing
how he failed me so badly too.

I got so hurt when he my son told me he was not drinking anymore, and i thought to myself, "oh ok, that hurts -- he could never stop drinking for ME..."

And then in the middle of the night he calls me drunk as a skunk (hiccuping even too), and he starts telling me about how he is now in love.

wtf.

And I say, "yeah, sure, so in love, you just came for sex a few days ago, and then the two days before that, then the week before that , and the first week. You are sooooo in love!!!"

And i hung up on him and said, "You know what? You guys deserve each other."


I don't even feel rage like a woman should just about now. i feel so sorry for his pathetic lost soul. Mr Regarding-Henry-but-in-reverse.

i don't feel anger, I just feel sad. i need to do some more research on this
bariatric, 70 percent divorce rate. That's just so high.

ADDICTON TRANSFER

http://psychcentral.com/blog/archives/2006/11/30/think-gastric-bypass-surgery-is-the-quick-fix-think-again/

http://books.google.com/books?id=rhna8BtfufEC&pg=PT146&lpg=PT146&dq=bariatric+surgery+adultery&source=bl&ots=Vp8iQeKxiP&sig=aXkuqxlcrG4oZs4K47O8nH89SqI&hl=en&ei=rMEcS9K1Fc-LlAfy-bDvCQ&sa=X&oi=book_result&ct=result&resnum=6&ved=0CCQQ6AEwBQ#v=onepage&q=bariatric%20surgery%20adultery&f=false

Some Days

Some days I just think about the old George. The man who was a former Marine, who taught my sons values and morals. The man who'd correct me if I wanted to steal grapes from the grocery market and pop them in my mouth. i miss the man who told me the heartbreaking story of being betrayed by his first love, who ended up leaving him for another man while he was stationed far away. He knew how my ex had no respect for the vows of marriage, and he, too, had been hurt to by cheating girlfriends.

We had this unspoken promise to each other -- to never hurt each other in that way.
LOYALTY.

He had favorite movies, and he loved 'Regarding Henry.' In this story, the man wakes up from a self that was immoral and lost, and he starts to see things clearly and beautifully. And the irony, is that George has gone through the reverse. He was clear and beautiful, and then he fell asleep and got lost.

Alcohol can make a man lose himself.... his morals, his values, and respect for himself and others. Yet,it is a disease, and should be treated as such. Why didn't he ever have any faith in the help available? I guess he wasn't ready and didn't really want it. I think part of losing this weight all by myself, is to say that I got ahold and got control of my addiction -- all with God's help. How can I judge him for not getting on the wagon, if I had my own?


``````````````````````````````````

I miss him as a friend.
I miss my husband.

But the man I've seen the last few times, is not my husband.
His eyes even look different.

I spend my mornings and nights on my knees, just saying to God, "Lord, i know i am supposed to desire your Will, no matter what that may be... but you know the desire of my heart....'

What is my truest desire? To enjoy my children as they prosper from my new connection to them. To see myself lose this weight (26 lbs so far), only because I want more energy.

Energy!!!!
1.sleep apnea that I tried to fix but they wanted me to start over and they didn't want to adjust my pressure. ($$$$$$$)
2. hypothyroid (hello? apathetic and sluggishness)
3. depression
4. Carrying around so much weight to drag me down

right now, all i care about is getting more energy ... gradually.

i don't want bariatric surgery......i don't.
I am toughing this out so much, and I don't have a crybaby attitude.
i just need and want energy so badly that I refuse to stuff my face.
it's so hard, because sometimes i just want to stuff down my pain.
but i just let myself feel my pain.

What else do I want? I want to finish school. oh come on, I'm almost about to flip to senior status. Why stop now?!?!?! I wanted to jump in to school in December, but with this grieving/mourning, I decided to allow myself some more time. In January, I think I will be ready.

What else do I want?
My husband to come to me --- I dream him. I hate that, because it's so painful when you wake up. i always wake up and I am not sure where I am, and I stumble to get up. And then in a few moments, my mind wakes up and I remember that George has left me. I say to myself, "Oh my GOD, he has left me.....oh my God, this is a nightmare. '

sometimes i scream in my car. i am driving fine, then suddenly i get pain and feel like someone just punched my gut so hard. i get that feeling at work when I am on a call. When I spell out things for the customer, I say, "D as in delta, S as in Sam, and G as in George."

I guess I need to start using a new "G" word.

.

Reply Letter to Brenda, my Godsent, Friend

REPLY TO BRENDA:


Brenda,

something is happening to me right now -- well, actually, since yesterday morning.

i think your prayers and everyone else's prayers, are being Heard.

i feel so empowered these last couple days.
Like i feel God's breath in my lungs, His Hands on my shoulders, and I feel so HUMBLED by it all.

I am so so so HUMBLED.

i had forgotten this feeling -- the feeling of God being closeby.
Well, i know its not that God was gone before, but I had closed my ears and heart.

Oh wow, I had thought I'd never ever feel the Holy Spirit again.
i know some people would say that my psychological state is finding a coping
mechanism to deal with my pain. BUT MY TRUE SELF IS SELF-DESTRUCTIVE, SELF-HATING, NEGATIVE, AND BLIND.
This is not me.

Brenda, I know there are still a lot of rough times ahead, and the enemy will try to attack me, but i claim Victory.

Thank you so much, Brenda. Every time you send me a letter, I read it, reread it, and reread it.

Today George came to try to hurt me (bootie call).

My old "victim" self laid down with tears and lust, thinking, this was my wifely duty and it showed my devotion.

I still love him and wanted him to stay connected to me.

I surrendered my body and heart with love and ecstacy, but afterward, I felt empowered. I can't explain it. Like, I am now healing and his continued sickness (alcoholism/adultery) just made me so sad for him. It's hard to see your mother dying on her deathbed, so slowly and painfully.

But then another light bulb went on -- Hello? Giving a bootie call to a man who had abandoned and betrayed me and the kids? What kind of a woman would do that?

I tried to justify it before , thinking that he still had love for me and that God would hear my prayers and heal him and bring him back to me healed.
(I just don't want him back any other way.)

But I told him the truest words in my heart -- it hurt to say them, but I said that
this is now over.

I will not stop praying for Jorge. He is still my husband. And I know when the time is right, God will release me. I am starting to feel this gradual release already taking place.


It has only been 33 days since he left, but it has been a long giant painful and blessed journey.

Thank you again, Brenda.



===================================================
To: chasemice@myspace.com
From: Brenda



Denise,
I am in front of my computer thinking of words that might comfort you. I feel so much pain for you. I don't want you or your children to hurt or suffer. If you are okay your children will be okay. You are all they need and they are all you need.

This is a deep dark valley you are going through. You are going to learn so much through this experience. God is trying to show you his will for your life. Just obey him Denise even if it seems unreasonable. He will reward your faith. Most of his will for your life is laid out for you in the bible.

I remember Sam didn't look for the kids for about a year and a half. Samantha was so sad. She would wait by the window. The very fiber of my being hurt. I began to build her up by praying with her and reading bible stories. I would tell her who she does have. I would tell her you have me, your brother, grandma, grandpa, and Jesus. That is all you need and we all love you so very much. I would tell her this daily. I would tell her how much we all loved her.

Don't feel that you were a bad mother in the past. Reality is that when women have a man they pay less attention to their children as did I. After Sam left I spent so much more time with my children. Quality time. We became closer and happier. The void Sam left disappeared.

We all make mistakes and sin. God has forgiven you and he remembers them no more. Why should you remember them. Your sins are as far as the east is from the west. They are at the bottom of the deepest ocean. Stop trying to drag them along like chains tied to your feet. The devil loves to bring up the past and tell us how much we messed up. He wants you to feel like a failure. Don't look back any more.

Sometimes we have to step away from a situation and hand it over to God. That means let God deal with Jorge. He will in his time. Jorge is not happy and he never will be as long as he is hurting others and living in sin.

If there is another woman I feel sorry for her. All she is going to get is the is same corrupt person who will do the same to her. She is also messing with a married man therein committing adultery. They will reap what they sow. Jorge is going to have to face the consequences for all he has done.

We can't control Jorge. Let God deal with him. Take care of yourself and your children. Your life isn't over sweet potato. Don't let this man or his absence break you down.

If Jorge wants to allow the devil to mop the floor with him so be it. Don't you give him any room to harm you or your children. Denise God will start to fill the holes in your heart. You will have true peace and joy that comes from God not another human being.

Denise, I don't know what God is doing in your life, but he is doing something. He is working this very minute. He has not forgotten you. I will continue to pray for you and your children. I will also pray that God convict Jorge and turn him around. The bible says that if two or more agree in his name...


I am here for you 24/7. It doesn't matter if I work or not. God wants us to carry one another's burdens. I will do whatever I can for you. Rest Denise. Give your heart and mind rest. Close your eyes and meditate on God, his promises, and his eternal love for you. He has felt what you are feeling. He knows your pain. Good night. Be strong in the Lord and the power of his might put on the whole armor of God that you may be able to stand.

Love,
Brenda



...

My own Sins

I didn't listen to him.

He tried to tell me so many times, that he couldn't take the burden.

I didn't listen to him.

I have been pointing out the speck in his eye, while I had the board in my own eye.

I disrespected him so much, and thought my ugly behavior was justified because I hated
the drinking. I became almost hateful.

But this man has been there so much for me.
And so much for kids that weren't even his.

It's incredible to think back at how much he was there for us.
He really loved my children.

And he grew pain when my kids started disrespecting him.
1. My ex-husband poisoned them. (I saw the texts with my own eyes.)

2. I burdened G with all the discipline and care-taking while I worked.
And I should of gotten up earlier, I should of shopped for food, I should of cooked.

3. My kids witnessed my disrespect my husband.

4. I read that in stepfamilies, the natural parent should be in charge of the discipline!!!!

I was so weak and demanded that he be a pillar.
I was supposed to be the FEMALE pillar.

I know some may think that I am being a pushover to list my sins when he did his own in the end. But I am wise enough to see the big picture.
I see how everything happened the way it did, because G had been TRYING AND TRYING AND TRYING TO GET ME TO LISTEN!!!!!! HE WROTE ME EMAILS ......HE'D TRIED TALKING TO ME -- i just interrupted and had attitude.

Oh husband, I am so sorry.
I am so sorry.
I am your faithful wife and will keep praying that God' keeps opening my eyes.
He is doing that!!
Keep away from me longer,my husband, so God deals with me.
Keep away from me longer, so I keep "manning" up the way I have been.
My kids prosper now, not because you are gone, but because I am manning up and being the FEMALE PILLAR.
And even though I mourn you, my husband, I am starting to feel so good about myself and my new wisdom.

Keep away, while I get my body healthy.
keep away, while I teach my children. I tell them how good you were.
Keep away, while I go back, happily, to my goals... the ones I threw away.
Keep away, while I sleep with your child-photo, and cry about all the harsh words I said to you.

Keep away , while I become a pillar.
And you will come back and I will respect my husband and I will never leave
Christ's teachings again.


-

The Lioness

Today, Thanksgiving Day, I thank God for the lioness.


My mother is the lioness. She seems clumsy and docile at times, but when I give her my pain, she becomes this ferocious lioness who empowers me.

Today, this lioness has given birth to her a lion cub.

I am not like the deer that take hours to get on their feet.

I drank her milk today.

I am stronger.

I am now shaking with her ferocity......one of wisdom and strength.

And the day she dies, my mother ..... my strong, beautiful, ferocious lioness ....... I will then become even more beautiful, strong and ferocious..... and then I will give birth ....

Old Vs New Vs Intended

I haven't dared visited here since my miscarriage. But I have finally returned here and reread my older posts. On one of the first ones, I described how my husband shaved and scared me because he seemed almost like a different man. And then I comfort myself that since his bariatric surgery he has remained the same man.
Well, there was something deeper going on ... much deeper.

He just left me.
He says the reason is that I am weak and that my kids and ex-husband run all over me.
He says he is tired.
He is tired of responsibilities. He says he feels caged.
He is right.


But a few days before I discovered an online affair he was having. He said it was not fully "consummated, " but by the many dozens of conversations and texts on a daily basis -- I could see that this was something full-blown.

He did this to me back in March, not long after the miscarriage.


What he did was wrong.
But I want healing.
I can see the bigger picture.

His mother is slowly and painfully dying, and his guts have been twisted and his excruciating pain has been with him since he found out in 2008.

This is why I wait for him.

He tells me that things are all screwed up , and that I am weak and that my kids don't listen and the ex rules my life, and that I neglect the house and myself.
He is right.

But even though i know that these things have led up to him leaving, I know that he has fallen into his own CORRUPTION.


I am in the deepest agony of my life. But I also am feeling a change within myself that is starting to grow

He became disconnected and cold. He says it has been gradual.
I believe him. Sin sneaks up on you then you open doors and those doors open doors.

I wonder if his love was true love to begin with -- did he really love me? I fear that he fell in love with me for the wrong reasons. I think he was so lonely and rejected by women, that when he found me, he felt something that he thought was love. I will never know the truth to this question. It doesn't matter anymore.

When things started blooming between us, I ran away from him because he seemed so sad.

I also saw his drinking. That scared me too.


Also, another reason that I convinced myself that it would work, was that I had my own issues, and thought that he and I could understand each other and not judge each other and be there for each other and heal TOGETHER. Love makes you feel anything is possible. Especially because we were spiritual back then. But obviously it wasn't a real TRUTH that we seeked. We didn't get empowered by God's promises.



After the bariatric surgery, he started being very occupied with darker things though. It's as if the pain he experienced, corrupted him. I started getting corrupted right along with him..... stopped praying. I joined his loss of faith and sadly, an other half to sickness.

With the pain about his mother, his drinking got more out of control, he started talking to women online, and he didn't go to God.



Sergio asks me now, "What about that little connect-the-dots analogy that he would always talk about when he referred to me and him?"

I answer Sergio, "I don't know."

George thinks that he left because things got bad and he couldn't handle it anymore.

NO. Wrong order.


Things got bad in the family (marriage/kids), because I wasn't manning up and being strong for my kids.
.


He couldn't handle the void the surgery brought along with his mother's news.
And I often wonder, though, how he could of gotten so cold.



with George leaving me, it hit me like a surprise and the shock is still here - I didn't see it coming. Right up until the end, we'd lie in bed and talk sweet-nothings to each other, and still felt connected. I only started seeing changes until September. (He left Nov 1st).

If he truly left me for my failures and his failures, and he still loved me, then the right thing would of been to say, "Denise, I'm tired of your weaknesses, I am tired of your untreated-depressions, I am tired of the loss of control as parents, I am tired of the loss of control over the finances and the house... LETS GET HELP.. LETS GET COUNSELING."

God knows I would of felt joy if he attempted to have spiritual leadership.
Instead he told me in March, "My mother's death will probably be the end of me, Denise."



On his myspace, I was his best friend. He had typed out, "my best friend, my wife."

And he went and edited it, and just deleted my name. And it just says, "best friend." (Which represents the real world, amazingly.)



What am I doing? WHAT AM I DOING?

I am going back to my Christianity. I am seeing all of this as God having mercy, so I can see in the mirror and see how I need to concentrate on my children.

My children , especially Sergio, have been responding. I super-focused too much on trying to save George from his alcoholism .... and Sergio was walking around, aching in pain, abusing weed, and not going to class.

But Sergio is coming around. He has quit weed. He asks for counseling and has gone
to see Beth Anne Contreras, the most wonderful counselor in El Paso.

Did George's leaving rescue Sergio?
No. Me manning up did it.



We lost God together, that is for sure. We got corrupted in so many ways.

And in his corruption , he judged me -- my depression, my failure to do what I was supposed to do, and my physical pain from my own weight problem, and YES my weaknesses. How can the weak judge the weak?

I am left with the remains and the pain, that is not medicated with food, drug, drink, nor co-dependency.

But I am also left with a new found connection with God. On a deeper level that I didn't have before.

I did, however, feel like a bad child who wandered off these last couple years and am returning to my father with my tail between my legs, crying and begging for His
Mercy.

But God's Grace says to me to not have that feeling and that my Father is glad that I have returned and he has open Arms for me.



And God won't answer that question, "yes" or "no" about the future.

He says "Wait, Denise, and get close to Me.'

And I fight like a wild animals, swinging my arms, scratching up the air with wildness, in desperate, agonizing, torturous, stabbing pain........but God says to me, "let him go and come to Me."

I can't sleep, I can't work, I walk around with a grin on my face so that my kids don't see my pain, and I appear strong. This ache is there, non-stop, and my insides are constantly SCREAMING in agony.
I am constantly reminded by everything around me -- music, movies, and yes, even the stars in the sky, because he just loved looking at the stars, and the constellations.

How will i ever let go of him if the STARS IN THE SKY remind me of him????!!!!

But God says to me, "Let go and come to Me."

-------

I am improving my life. I am doing things for my kids (being more connected) and I am doing more for myself (losing weight for my own health and for more energy). I am also following the counselor's advice -- getting treated for mental health -- evaluated for either depression or bi-polar 2.

At times, I remember how George brought me a pamphlet about these mental health issues, and I didn't listen. At times, I see how George did try, but how could he expect me to listen to him when he himself needed to HELP HIMSELF?? We both were sick. We both needed help. I am seeking it.
And I pray that he is too.

I was sick, bitching at him to get help.

And he was sick, bitching at me to get help.

Neither of us would hear the other!

--------------------------------------


Today, Thanksgiving Day, I am feeling my pain RAW.
PAIN THAT IS SOOOOO RAW and DEEP and it wants to leave me dead inside.

But I choose life.

I choose to be thankful for my health (and its improvement, I've lost 20lbs). I could very easily turn to food, but I choose to feel my raw pain. I refuse to medicate myself.

I read that what I am going through is equal to the pain of losing a spouse to death.
This pain is second on these lists I found on the internet.

The first one is to lose a child.

-----------

And even if G got "uncorrupted" and he saw his sickness, and he came back, I would still have to consult God to allow him back into my life.

Because maybe God has better plans for me.

I know that I must remain single for a long-time, as God remolds me and mine.
I know that I don't deserve a good man until I become the woman that God intended me to be.

But I still secretly wish that I could become that woman that God intended me to be, and that one day, George appears, as the man that God intended him to be.


.

I Remember Her Christmas Popcorn Balls

Sad Friday (not for the squeamish - you are being warned.)

When we found out we were pregnant, we panicked the first day, but were on cloud 9 the next. We were picking names, too. Sarah Danielle was a name I had picked out a very long time ago. We changed it to Sarah Michelle because someone in the extended family already had used "Danielle." So now it got changed to "Sarah Michelle" for a girl, and "Jacob" for a boy (We were still working on a middle name.).

Going through online catalogs, fantasizing, and hearing congratulations from friends and family just made the whole thing too -- hey, we started dreaming. DREAMING. My husband was finally going to experience fatherhood at age 38. He got my kids when they were school-age, and he loves them as his own, but he's never held his newborn, never named a child, or never had his finger squeezed by a tiny little hand.

At about 14 weeks, I ended up spotting and having tiny little pieces of blood-clots and I freaked out. My sister-in-law assured me it was no big deal -she had bleed lots during her pregnancy. Other people and the internet assured me the same -- I felt foolish. But now I know that I know my own body and should of listened to my own instinct. I have had three babies and I never saw one tiny drop of blood.

I can't believe I am typing all of this out -- but God knows I need an outlet.

Well, almost a week later, I am going to work and I get this weird cramping on the way. My husband was driving me and dropping me off, but I told him, "Wait in the truck -- I think I need to go to hospital."
I ran inside to tell my supervisor, and she thought I was nuts for even coming inside to tell her -- she said, "Go, go, go, go!"

I immediately got back in the truck and I felt like this glop passed down, and I felt the gushing.
When we got to the ER, they had to put towels on the wheelchair, because I was bleeding through my pants. But this was just the beginning of the nightmare.

I didn't know there would be so much blood. I am not queasy about blood, but God there was a lot. I was told to change into a gown, and when I dropped my pants and underwear, I just saw I was so drenched and this giant glop (blood-clot) about the size of an apple just laid there. The person who cleaned up after me just rolled up the clothes (glop and all) and shoved them into a bag. They came with a mop to clean up the floor -- I just dripped so bad, blood running down my legs -- it wouldn't stop. There was way more to come, and my husband never left my side.

I laughed when the nursing-assistant handed me a little kotex. The RN nurse must of known why because she just called for towels. They used a big towel as a giant kotex, and they had to change it several times. No one told me it was going to be so bloody.

Dr. Somebody ordered an ultrasound. The tech drove me nuts. She said she was leaving me towels and she left me in the bathroom so I could "clean up." What was the matter with them? I just stood there, holding on, trying to wipe my thighs and crotch but it just kept pouring out so bad. I was dripping everywhere, and trying to clean up after myself. I would throw wet paper towels on the floor, but the mess just seemed to spread. I was in tears and so frustrated! I called to her and she just called housekeeping when she saw the "murder-scene." She later told me "Don't worry about it, it happens." Well, after much very painful prodding (sticking this thing in my vagina to get pictures), they finally returned me to the ER room.

Hours passed and me and my husband were moved to another ER room that had child-wallpaper on it. Sierra Providence has this little room for pediatric cases and baby giraffes and elephants line the borders in the room. What the hell were they thinking to put me in there?

At one point (few hours later), George couldn't take seeing my pain anylonger because he'd see me push my feet up against the wall to hold up against the contractions (no, not cramps, but very strong contractions). Oh, wonderful ..... going through "labor."
The nurse gave me this wonderful drug and assisted me to the shower. (Which I thought was really foolish of her to not shower me first, then drug me up??) I loved her for her kindness though -- being in that sad room, neglected by my first nurse really sucked.

The shower was weird. When I stood up I felt the pooling in my body ready to let go. More giant blood clots (I thought I had dropped my liver or some organ) just would hit the floor. I digged through them when the nurse left momentarily. I don't know but I wanted the fetus if I found it -- I know hospitals throw them away. Sounds weird, sick and morbid, but I was not in my normal state of mind. What a bloody trail I left everywhere. The inside of my legs were painted red. But at least the blood was fresh, not like feeling gross with blood from three hours ago in that little baby-giraffe room.

Doc came and was so surprised that after pushing out so much gunk, that I still had more in my uterus. The anasthesiologist was going to come in to talk to me.

Away to the O.R. (operating room) for my D.N.C (Scraping of the uterus walls to get every last bit out.)

I ended getting an epidural. Not the kind I received during labor, but I guess a very high dose epidural because I couldn't feel my legs at all. My lower-half of my body didn't exist. And the whole time I kept wondering where the baby was. They called it "tissue."

It was over quickly, but the recovery room was very long time. Then I finally got to see my husband when they took me to the outpatient-recovery room. I was trying to wake up my dead legs and they brought me a cold coke. That cold coke was like from heaven. The warm-heated blankets were from heaven. I was so stoned from the pain-drugs they kept giving me. I mean, they gave me these drugs that made me feel so good. Maybe they give miscarrying mothers these drugs so they don't cry and fall apart. I now know why people do narcotics. Weed is nothing like this (only drug I have ever tried). I was feeling such calm and pleasure.

I called my momma and we cried on the phone together. She said she cried because she felt this sadness for George. She cried because she knew i had been through so much. God, I love my momma. She has this way of always making me feel better. She heals me with her words.

That night and the next day, I had cramping and wore a kotex. Nothing that heavy though, like a light menstral day. I am determined to be strong. But stupid things break me. I don't know why this certain relative we have is so heartless. My husband texts him and says, "sorry I can't go to the party, my wife and I are getting through this hard time." This mean-hearted relative replies with innaproppriate joking and can't understand why my husband didn't think it's funny. I see my husband get so sad.

I wanted to get drunk tonight, but I couldn't. I drank about 3 oz of rum and 9 oz of eggnog liquor and then got a headache. I wanted that happy-pain medication I had the night before.

My husband fell asleep early and I stayed up bitching out that mean-relative via text message.

I felt sad because my biological father never had any interest in his own grandchildren. Never once took them out for an ice cream or asked them to spend the night. I'm not even sure if he even knows their names and ages. Why the hell am I even thinking about this? I just feel so weird.

I just got all this sadness pouring out of me. It didn't hit me so bad last night. I had that feel-good-drug in my system, I guess. I want more. :(

Man Behind the Mask

I was not expecting my husband to listen to me when I dared him to shave. He had been threatening to do this for the last year, and I kept saying that I had a thing for goatees and NOT to do it. One cold, winter, inebriated evening, he makes that threat again. I say, "You are all talk.... whatever!" He stood up and stormed off and I was like , "Uhhh? Where ya going?"

My son and I started whispering, "Oh my God, he is going to do it!" I literally was hiding behind the wall, saying, "Go see!! I can't!" I was afraid. I wasn't afraid of not liking his looks, but afraid of him looking different. See, I need familiarity and his recent weight loss left me sometimes missing the old George. Strange, isn't it? There was something comforting when he was a huge man -- almost fatherlike. The way he'd babytalked me and open his arms so I could crawl up against him everytime I felt any pain or anguish in life.

Nothing has changed, in reality, since his weight loss. New problems have risen, but he is still the same man, but I'd have to convince myself in certain moments. So, seeing him shaven for the very first time was very strange to me.

At first, I was unsure and didn't react much. And then he tortured himself the entire night because he regretted the decision of shaving everythng off. "See what you made me do! Man, I look so damn old! You never dare a drunk man, Denise!"

When we went to bed, he reminded me of a woman who had cut off all her long hair. I kept saying, "You can always grow it back, baby!"
He was really upset, though. He did, however, seem to find some peace when I told him, "George, I love your face -- I really, really do."

And I did, but I had to adjust. It didn't take long, and the next day, I kept looking at him when he thought I wasn't looking. I was literally trying to figure him out. I was putting together all the pictures of him when he was younger and clean shaven (We met in our 30's.) It was almost like getting to know another side to him. He looked so vulnerable, too. His big goatee always make him look a little mean (so he bragged), and it also made it hard for me to read him at times.

Today is the the third day, and I am realizing something, though. All those frustrating times when I thought he was reacting indifferently or mildly to things, he may have just been hiding behind the beard. I can now see every muscle of his face with whatever expression he is wearing at the moment. I seem to really like that!

Well, even though he is threatening to grow it back now, I think this may have actually been somewhat therapeutic in the long run, lol.