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June 27, 2008

Posted by introspectreangel in life.
3 comments

So, let’s talk about what I’m doing NOW.  You know, off with the old and on with the new, and all that stuff.

I work a lot.  I’m a medical records specialist-slash-birth registrar for a local hospital.  I listen to physician dictation and assign the reports to the medical transcriptionists for typing.  I organize vast quantities of loose paper medical records into cohesive batches for scanning into the electronic health record.  I rock out with my “RECEIVED ON” date stamp.  I coo over babies and verify that their names are spelled correctly, I assist unmarried parents in legally establishing paternity, and I report pregnancy, labor, and delivery statistics to the State.

I don’t go to church, but I lurk all over the Internet on a variety of Anglican/Episcopalian blogs.  The Episcopal Diocese of Fort Worth is just too…complicated…for me to invest my energy in right now.  Everything’s a battle, and I just. don’t. need. that.  I need peace.  Occasionally I feel the need to worship in community, and I’ve driven over to Dallas to the parish I used to attend a few times – but it’s a long drive, and the church has grown by leaps and bounds.  It feels different.  I’m considering investigating a few of the ELCA (Evangelical Lutheran Church in America) churches around here, because I know the Episcopal Church is in full communion with them, but most Sunday mornings I just opt for sleep and watching ‘Cars’ with Gabe.

I have friends, amazingly enough.  Several of them, which is very different for me.  My best friend in the world, whom I have known for 8 years, is Shannon.  We met when we lived across from each other in the same apartment complex.  She was my maid of honor.  We joke about moving to California to get married, but she’s not sure how she feels about kids and I’m not sure how I feel about dogs, so oh well.  Shannon made friends through MySpace with an interesting character named Alex, and I befriended him through her.  Alex is an ENTP on the Meyers-Briggs scale, and once he learned the story of everything I have been through in the last few years, he made it his mission to crack my shell.  He introduced me to his partner, Dani, and at least 5 or 6 other really amazing, fun-loving people.  We hang out, we go to karaoke, we eat sushi, we talk music.  I mess around with Alex’s guitars, and we occasionally explore underground drainage tunnels (it’s called urban exploring, and it’s AMAZING what you see down there).  These incredible people helped me mark the finalization of my divorce with a 4 day long party that involved a Goth club, a front porch barbecue and bullshit session, and the Rocky Horror Picture Show.  These wonderful, supportive people who helped me move into my apartment, have listened to me cry, and have embraced me are also, for the most part, dedicated agnostics, secular humanists, and atheists, which is…interesting.  I wouldn’t characterize them as hostile to religion.  They are just completely and utterly without faith in anything beyond that which can be proven.  And yet…they are not hopeless.  I always believed that not having faith meant you didn’t have hope, but I have been proven incorrect.

I’m dating again.  Maybe dating isn’t the right word.  I hesitate to talk about this, but this is my blog, and you don’t have to read it. 

Ok, so I’m having sex (and yes, I’m being safe).  I don’t think anyone quite gets just how much my x’s sex addiction and desire for progressivley risky relationships with outsiders damaged me.  For 6 years, he did everything he could to  skewer my belief in myself as an attractive and desirable woman who can have fun and bring pleasure to others.  I completely lost touch with my libido, and I came to believe something I had never, ever believed before: that I was dirty and didn’t deserve to enjoy myself.  What I’m doing involves some conscious effort to remember that sex and love are two separate things, and that they can exist (perhaps should? But I’m not entirely sure) together, but don’t have to.  I thought, given my previous (current?  I don’t know) beliefs in the sanctity of marriage and the place of sex in loving relationships, that this would be very difficult, and it hasn’t been.  But the long story short is that I have found out that there are, in fact, people out there who find my body beautiful, who desire me and want to please me in a way that I have not ever experienced before, whether in a relationship or out of one.  And whether you agree with what I’m doing or not, I have to say that I am beginning to feel healed, and healthy, and whole for the first time in many, many years.  I look forward to the day when I again have a partner, when I can commit myself AND my body AND my soul wholeheartedly to one person, but I will never again make the mistake of fixating on a person who is just…well, just not that into me.  I deserve more, and I always have.

NOW, this being said, I have a bona fide date-style DATE tonight with someone, involving dinner and everything!  I first met him last weekend, and my first impression was of a funny, kind, and gentle man.  He gave me a backrub and looked into my eyes and when I said I would like to get to know him better, he said he would absolutely love that and how about Friday?

I’ve mourned for a year.  I’m ready to move on. 

Last night I took Gabe to Oklahoma to spend the rest of the summer with his dad.  He doesn’t get the concept that this visit is for more than a weekend, because he kept saying, “See you Sunday, Mom!”  I gave up trying to explain it and just made sure he had his backpack and blanket and Buster the stufed dog.  I told him to be a good boy for his teachers at his ‘summertime school’, and I thanked his dad for securing him a place back at the very same preschool he attended when we lived there, so as to minimize any trauma.  I told him I’d call him every night and I’d miss him very much.  I think it is going to be very, very good for his dad to get a chance to be something other than “Uncle Dad”.

Well, that about sums everything up.  My apartment is slowly but surely coming together.  My stuff is cheap, and I miss some of the old THINGS I had when I was married…but not too much.  I have great neighbors.  They speak very little English, and last weekend when Gabe and I were coming back from the pool, they were outside grilling up a feast for their 5 year old son’s birthday and blasting Tejano and salsa music.  I let the beat catch me and as I danced up the stairs, the dad yelled to get my attention and then motioned to his grill and all the kids playing on the tennis court, inviting us to join his family for their party.  We were happy to do so, and Gabe had a great time playing, and I had a great time eating some incredible ribeye and crazy spicy smoked sausage and drinking Coronas.  I’m throwing myself a birthday party the weekend of July 19th, and I think I shall invite them in return.

Hope all of YOUR summers are shaping up to be as much fun as mine! 

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