got my fix

remember how i said i was going to suggest to J that we should maybe speak even less (see letter in a previous post somewhere). well, i couldn't even bring this sentence over my lips when he called me yesterday evening - as we had agreed 10 days ago.

i was just so happy to hear from him that i couldn't even imagine not talking to him anymore. this love really is like an addiction i tell you. we spoke for almost 2 hours and it felt like 15 minutes. the only reason we ended our conversation was because they turned the lights off in the recovery home he is in and because my phone was about to die.

after, i felt like i had just got my fix. i was so relaxed and so content and i think i'll be able to hold on until next sunday when we shall speak again.

how you will pick the person you love

i once heard a psychologist in a woody allen movie (manhattan?) say, not the familiar freudian quote that we pick as our lovers people that most resemble our caregivers, but that we will love someone who most resembles the most dysfunctional member in our immediate family. ... i couldn't have agreed more but only recently have i understood my personal truth in this statement. in my case i'd say i have two really dysfunctional people in my family. both of my brothers. the older one is a drug addict, the younger one is most definitely bi-polar. .... and who do i now consider the true love of my life - my soulmate even? -- a bipolar addict.

well, let's hope the addiction aspect will change after J comes out of this recovery program.

i am posting quite a lot these days. i tell you, that's why writers are better off being miserable. no good reading material comes out of happy writers (unless you're into children's books or self-help stuff).

how not to vacation

last one of my selected older posts for today. i think. - (when i wrote this my mother was visiting. ava was 2 years old and nini just a few months and we rented a house in cape cod with 2 more family constellations.)

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september 7, 2004
cape cod vacation report

day one: want to leave by 10 am. make it out the house by 2:30pm. get to cape cod 11p.m. (i.e. take 4 hours longer than mapquest predicted). swear to not do this ever again. then remember have to come back to nyc. realize I shouldn't have let D trick me into coming to cape cod without him. now stuck with all work of two little kids by myself. mom here but as guest mostly. cannot take more than an hour with two-year-old then cracks and has hysterical fit. realize where my patience (or the lack of it) is coming from.

day two: enlist my mother for only a minute of toddler watch, while I help Giselle carry something upstairs. come back down. mom is making tea and Ava is gone. I run outside. no Ava. run to front of house (where street is) and catch last glimpse of Ava disappearing in neighbor's yard carrying a basketball. I dart on street and break all currently existing olympic sprinting records to get Ava from neighbor's yard. want to cry and stuff but can't. want to beat her but can't. don't know how to make her understand that such behavior is terrorizingly scary. maybe I should beat her after all so she'll remember. but can't. too happy and grateful that nothing happened. mom feels guilty but doesn't know what to say. me neither. starting to get cured of my latest house hunger (i.e. no more desire for any suburban life. begin to appreciate confinements of city apartment living.)

day three: finally make it out the house and to the beach before sunset. it's kinda cold. bathing suit is put ad acta (probably for the better anyway. post-partum body view spared to poor onlookers). Ava collects seashells with grandma while I try to shield my 4-month old (Nini) from hurricane-like winds. when leaving beach mom can't find her sandals. claims have cost her a hundred bucks. she's close to crying so I decide to swallow my comment that they look like "payless". damn ghetto cape cod bastards must have stolen shoes. ;) ... mom can't see humor in any of my comments. is close to panic. tell her that shoes have probably been carried up the hill to exit by someone thinking they've been lost. turns out to be true. mom relaxes. I make mistake to tell her that panic in her eyes about lost shoes has been more strikingly intense than panic when Ava got lost. meant it as joke but mom doesn't think it's funny. is offended. exhausted. fall asleep at 9pm when putting down kids. get back up 11:30. everyone went to bed. go to 7-11 to full-fill bad cravings. pay 8 dollars for ice-cream i didn't want to pay $4 for earlier in day while shopping at normal-prized supermarket. don't give a shit. deserve it.

day four: things begin to be a blur. need sleep and another parent in the house whom I can deem responsible. Ava now accomplished escape artist. all features of house which looked great on website before arrival have now turned into whole-heartedly hated toddler danger-zones (hot-tub in back, second floor deck, huge house, etc.). need food. no time to eat. have lived on oreo-cookies all day while the rest of the vacation troop (13 people) eat lobster for lunch and dinner. contemplating about ways to keep track of 2-year old. seriously consider henna-tattoo on Ava "If lost, please call ...". Fantasize about implantation of GPS device in toddler. must come in handy when teenager, too. good investment. wonder if possible. other alternatives: dog-collar thingy (electric fence?) .. too cruel? .... beeper thingy ...but not effective cause will only let me know when toddler moves further than 20 feet away... -> but where to??...so basically, is device that tells me kid is lost.

day five: need vacation from vacation. decide to take mom and kids to beach far away from all. nice day. mom walks/dances with baby in snugli and Santana in ear up and down the shore. then waves to couple of sea-lions close by shore. I try not to look related to her. she calls me loudly (because headphones on) "Saaaage, wave to the sealions!!! Come on! They can see us!" “You’re such a hippie!” I think and pretend to be too involved with Ava's sand-castle architecture (..... sand-castle desperately in need of both - architecture and involvement). after beach we go to Provincetown. loving it although temperatures and winds call for immediate trip to sweater shop. explain to mom that P-town is Eldorado of gay people. Mom didn't realize and begins to pay attention. entertaining to watch mom. ;) eat seven dollar cheese sandwich. decide to skip the coke(save money) and go home for thirst quenching.

day six: long night. when it's not the kids it's my too vivid imagination keeping me up. can't get over the fact that we're staying in an old schoolhouse (from 1800s). have made mistake of reading historical clippings framed in hallways. saw one picture of little kids with creepy looking eyes. beg not to read about any deaths in article next to picture. read about death of one child in front of school-house. struck by horse-carriage in 1846. school-house closed after that. .... sigh. won't sleep now for sure. ...what's that noise??? Adam (one of Giselle's teenage kids) tells me plot of The Others. ... really didn't need to know that. decide I want to go home now. maybe better for all of us.

day seven: D arrives. praise the lord. i get a day off! or something like it. i get sick. spend day in bed. come out only in evening to look for some food and coffee. try to heat up old coffee in microwave. cup very hot. spill it all over my hand. in pain bang my ankle on open kitchen cabinet door. "first-aid" myself with anti-burn cream and such. return to bed.

day eight: last day at beach. freezing but I'm making D walk in sand with me. i'm having my romantic walk on the beach and that's that. D cuts himself on seashell. Ava climbs onto life-guard tower. ... and mom is dancing to Santana somewhere with baby whipped around by wind. plan to leave cape no later than 8pm. make it out the house by 11pm. positive on-look: no holiday traffic now for sure and kids asleep (no stopping, no screaming, no hassle). going 80mph most of the way arrive in nyc 4 hours later. Ava awake. 3:15 am. Decides she wants to play with her "little people" now. too tired to argue. Ava goes to sleep 4 am. wakes up 11 am. consider this method for future use, when getting to bed late. just wake up Ava in middle of night to play for while, so she'll sleep in the morning. Bad parenting anyone? .... Unfortunately, I still have to get up with baby at 7 a.m. Day flies by my deliriously tired self. Take afternoon nap. Leave house with kids at sunset to get at least a little bit of fresh air. Pick playground where something must have died a week ago in the neighboring woods. Feel like puking most of time. Ava seems to not care. Have to drag her out after we (adults) cannot possibly take it any minute longer.

motherhood & separation stories

something else from my selected posts list (old blog):

*********************************************
august 27, 2004
did someone slip ecstasy into my daughter's milk?

First of all, I admire all women who stay at home with young children and not go insane. I think, I would have to be placed on suicide-watch if I had to do this (stay home with 2 young ones) all day, every day of the year. I wonder, how 2-year-olds make it to their third birthday, at all. I mean, I can't expect every parent to be knowledgeable, reasonable, well-read or somewhat controlled. Not that I am any or all of that but maybe some of it. How did toddlers survive in medieval times? How do they survive with someone who has no understanding of a child this age? ... At the moment, I just want to beat her all day and if I didn't know better I probably would. She is driving me up the wall and only a mother would understand.

Now I FINALLY understand the outbursts of my mom. The few ones she had when I was around Ava's age and which I never forgot. A slap in the face, a time-out in the boiler-room, a good shaking in search for any sense in me. Don't get me wrong, these were exceptions to the rule ...I was actually raised laissez-faire .... but I remember these few moments like yesterday (although, that expression isn't to be taken literally, for I don't really remember what the hell I did yesterday).

So, I am being very careful (and very grown-up, although I don't want to be) to avoid any traumatic experiences for Ava. But I'm a ticking time-bomb so sooner or later, I'm inevitably going to show her that moment of shameful weakness of mine....at which I tell her something unnecessarily mean ... and she'll remember it forever.
*************************************

so, my first daughter is now 7 years old, and i'm happy to report that i didn't traumatize her with anything i did or said. unfortunately, she did get traumatized by a bad moment in her young life, anyway. two moments. it was during the highly emotional times of ending my marriage with her father. two very bad days at which he lost it and physically attacked me.

Luckily, I have since managed to bring everything back to civility. And I did this with a lot of kindness, even in the many months after our separation during which he was just an absolutely infuriating version of himself. Insulting, aggressive, mean, you name it. And, instead of firing back I always always held my tongue and appealed to his rationale instead. I was able to do this only because of my children. They came first to me - before any burning desire to shoot back at their father with equal hostility.

Today, I am happy to report that I think I've managed to create an environment for my children which makes them understand that their parents are still their parents, only that their family circle has expanded. I make a point out of showing their little brother love and attention, something especially Ava notices and values. And this didn't come as natural to me in the beginning as it does now. After all, the kid was conceived only a month or two after D left our marriage of 12 years. The woman he is with he also knew beforehand but I know better than to touch that. It's irrelevant. All I care about now is that our relationship (between all of us) is as amicable as it can be -- for the sake of the children.

strange career choices

i've been reading through my old blogs. ... i think i'm going to pull some of my entries out and repost them. here we go. one of them:

**************************************************************************
strange career choices [august 7th, 2004]

I just filed an application for the NYPD test. I didn't know they only give those admission-tests every 4 or 5 years, and since I've been playing with the thought of being a cop in NYC for a few years (to see what it's like and to get to park whereever I need to) I figured, I better take that test. It might take up to 4 years if and until they assign you. After filing the application I wondered what the hell I'm doing. I'm no cop-material. I'm a pacifist and I don't think that's a helpful character trait to make it in the NYPD. Also, I don't think the pay is too good. And I hate it when people lie or do wrong things when they KNOW it's wrong. All things of a day in the life of a cop, no? So, I suppose, to land this job I need to watch lots of DeNiro and Morgan Freeman movies and work on that bitch-gear I was talking about in an earlier post. I also need to get comfortable with the fact that there will be guns involved in my daily work-load. Guns that might be fired. At me.

... ok. maybe I should just stick with using my camera to shoot. I really miss not being able to find the time for my photography projects anymore. Street-photography is my thing but I can't just walk the streets (usually in the Bronx) with my two little children in tow. sigh. What is a woman to do? Maybe I'm too old for a career change...after all I am turning 30 soon ...aaaaaaahhhhhhhhrgg
******************************************************************************

Ha, ha... 30. That was five (5!) years ago. Wow, and I had no clue where my life was going to take me. Now, my kids are in school, I'm divorced, in love with another man, and my photography has developed in other ways.

always full of hope

I don't know why I fall for these ladies selling boot-legged DVDs on the street. It's such a typical thing for me to do: always being hopeful; in this case ... always hoping for better quality, although, in all the years I've ever sprang for a movie off the street I have yet to get one that's not completely beyond any watchable quality.

New resolution: This shall have been the last day I've bought a bootlegged DVD on the street. The kind of crap I managed to exchange my money for today is probably the worst ever. The camera is hand-held and, judging from the resolution, probably some 1980s archetype of a camera; heads are cut off just above the bottom lip (making one aware of the importance of eyes to read a person's facial expression) , and people in the theater are laughing and talking (even though the movie isn't supposed to be funny).

I mean, if you're going to make the effort to go and set up your video camera in the movie theater then at least show some dedication, for the garbage on those DVDs is just not worth the potential prison sentence you might face for this. You might as well sell a blank DVD (less risky) and rip off your costumers that way. There is no way I'd ever be able to track down that friendly Korean lady who ensured me of a "top quality product".

I'm so easy to fool, it's sad.
Tell me anything, and I'll probably believe it.
I just continue to believe in people.

when love is an addiction

Letter to J

Long day. Finally sat down. Went to doctor in the morning. Ear-infection again. :p Then – the rest of the day – kids kids kids. On those days, I miss your daughter more than usual(ly). She would have so much fun. The girls ask for her, too.

Today, I am feeling a bit anxious. Looking forward to talking to you on Sunday but at the same time wondering whether it might actually be better to speak even less. Not because I don’t want to but because if I don’t speak to you for a few days I feel the void you’ve left more than ever.

The past week I have often felt like an addict who can’t get her fix.
I just miss you so much and not hearing anything at all from you makes it worse. What does make it easier is time. So, I guess, the longer I don’t speak to you the easier it is to handle my tendencies to slip into a depressive state. – Luckily, I’m not the type to get so depressed that I need to be medicated to function but my behavior does change. I become Ms. Hermit and social interactions are just a symptom of my fear to be alone (and to think about how many more seemingly endless long weeks and months without you I have to spend).

Anyway, … I miss you.
And if you now are going to write me back to this email and NOT the other 35 letters I must have written you in the past month, I’m gonna come down there and kick your a**.

;) hope all is going well and moving forward with the program.
I am proud of your dedication and commitment.
Love,
S.

avoid the path of "what ifs"

Jeez… one week without speaking to J and I am like a kickin’ addict. How am I going to make it until freaggin’ May without seeing him? Also, .. he’s not responding to any of my mails to him. I guess, he’s really focusing on what he’s supposed to focus on in this program – and that’s definitely not his girlfriend.

But…my mind is evil sometimes…and it gets me on the path of “what ifs”. …what if he’s been talking to his ex-wife instead? What if he’s going to work on a reunion, after all and isn't telling me? What if they (the church) convince him that that's the better (Christian) route to go? Or...what if the absence of his contact to the outside world (i.e. me) makes his state of mind worse …(more prone to irrational brain-wash-susceptible stuff)?

I miss him just sooooo much!!!! It truly hurts my heart.
Ugh.

-- good thing this is an anonymous blog, for I can't tell you how annoying it is to hear myself be such a love-tied wimp. I'd like to think of myself above it all...but I guess I'm far from that.

false alarm and new resolutions

I had just tried calling J a few times to tell him that I think it’s all BS and that whatever he needs to do is fine, but I’ll be his friend, at least, and that comes with me calling him once in a while to talk. I didn’t get through.

Then my cell rang. It was J. He had snuck (sp.?) out and was calling me “undercover” so-to-say. He told me it was all BS but that he had to do it as part of the program and as one of the requirements -- break all relationships, especially one with a girlfriend. So, basically – somebody else was next to him when he called me to break up.

I can’t tell you how happy I was to hear from him. I was so miserable all day (besides the excruciating pain from the wisdom tooth extraction I still suffer from, even after 10 days now). I know it’s pathetic but I can’t imagine my life without him. It would just be a gaping void forever. Yes, I could maybe eventually get over it, …. live life to the fullest…but the truth is…he’d always be missing, for I would always want to share everything with him. He is the one....as corny as that might sound.

***

The next evening he called me to inform me that he told them the truth after all. Told them that he really wants to do the program and is taking it seriously but that they couldn't just make him stop loving the person he loves. He also mentioned that we should - at least - speak less, so he would truly open up to his counselor instead of always waiting for me to call and talk. ... I reluctantly agreed. Once a week it is.

... Reality (and realizations about what is best) is a tough bit to chew on these days.

people, places, things

J just called to break up with me. I think, it’s part of the program. Magi, who has been in recovery programs when she was younger (getting off a Heroine addiction) says “people, places, things” – something J has mentioned before, as well. Apparently all the things of the past can be a trigger. Anyway…it hurts and it’s depressing. But maybe it’s good for me, for I think the one true addiction I have is J.

I don’t know what to do. I feel like I’ve been the victim of a hit & run, for I can’t even call him back to talk about it more. This is going to be so tough….
I think, what will maybe make me feel better is go into my previous journal and read the 66 pages of awfulness (i.e. the things he’s done to me…the kind of person he might still be underneath it all.) ... Of course, then there is still my mind and my memory, which seems to mostly have retained the positive. The perfection of our relationship and utter happiness (when he was sober).

letters to J

hey you,
just wanted to say hello and tell you about my week/day.

- on monday my wisdom tooth was pulled and i've been in pain ever since. :p

- Magi is having problems with Jebou at the moment and i am spending quite some time being her cheerleader. ... and just for the record and to support one of my theories: even a consensual opening of the marriage bed to someone else can (and most likely will) create problems. ... Jebou slept with another woman, but Magi was there and I'm pretty sure she was involved in the encouragement of the situation. It happened on her birthday night, and I witnessed her behavior at the restaurant - with the woman (and Jebou). It was very sensual and open. But, she says, she was drunk. I couldn't tell...and I was completely sober. She seemed fine to me...maybe a little bit cheery. Anyway, long story short....she is thinking of leaving him (cuz he is so non-chalant about it...understandably...but not very in-tune with his wife's feelings)...she loves him but the event took such a toll on her that she is short of totally crashing. -- I tell you .... all this 'open relationship' garbage doesn' t really work. It takes two very open-minded/hippiesque and self-confident partners to allow for something like this and walk away from it without scars. And personally, I'm not sure it works at all if you truly love the person. ... In my head I would want to make you happy...and in my head I think I could handle it .. but what if the same thing happens as happened to Magi? ...when she changed her mind about how she felt about it after the fact. ... I think, I would have to leave the relationship....(and even if it would just be for a while). ... well, who knows what the future will bring.... -- anyway, i really hope they'll make it through this. i guess, that's what makes a strong marriage. when you make it through sh*t like this.

hmmm..what else...

- charles calls once in a while to ask how you are doing and wants me to always tell you that he's thinking of you ("but not in a gay way" as he emphasizes ;). so...i'm finally passing that message along. also, mic sends you a big palm, she says. magi sends all her love to you and your mother is feeling so much better now that she knows you are safe. she is going to get back to her assistant principal program. i spoke to her twice in this time that you've been away.

- your wife and your daughter are looking beautiful as always (although, you can see for yourself - on facebook- once you finally get your little internet time).

- D is driving me nuts as usual but i've found a way to make him make up for his complete financial ineptitude: whenever he has a 1/2 hour -- waiting for his woman to get out of work/class, for example -- and stops by with all the children, i put him to work. so far, he's installed shades, put up the cabinets for kids, mirrors, etc. ... i'm gonna make a list. ;) ... this curtails my anger a bit....because, most of the time i'm just angry at him (for not being any financial help).

Other than that…

- thinking of planning some time at a beach (with giselle and magi, maybe). not sure when. ... i also wouldn't mind skiing but nobody knows how to ski. i need to diversify my social circle and make some non-latino/caribbean friends...some nordic people. ;) -- and don't bother telling me i'm stereotyping - i'm joking, of course.

- kids are growing and are being cute. yesterday, nini brought me breakfast in bed! she even cut the crust of the sandwich. ;) it was really too cute. ... later that day she whispered that she wants to be a boy. a boy that can play with barbies, and glitter make-up, too. When I asked her why she wanted to be a boy she said that she likes boys and likes to be cool like them but they don't want to play with her because she is a girl. ;) -- I tried to explain the concept of a tomboy to her but don't think she got it. At 5 years of age, I told her, I wanted to be a boy, too. In fact most of my youth I wanted to be a boy, for they just got to do cooler stuff and play rougher. But, I ensured her, one day you'll be happy to be a girl. :)

beginnings of recovery

J has been in the X Mission’s Discipleship Recovery Program for over three weeks now and it’s going well so far. He has to get up at 5:30 every morning. He has to work a lot (kitchen and cleaning mostly, as well as feeding the community three times a day). In between is chapel service, devotion and bible study, which he finds hard sometimes since they are Evangelists – the ones who strongly believe in trinity and Jesus as God. This is tough for J, since he just doesn’t believe this – even though he is Catholic. Nonetheless, he is sticking with the program and he seems to like it (as far as this kind of stuff can be “liked”). There is also time to work-out, there is therapy/counseling, and there is time to study/read.

And what am I thinking about? … Well, for one I am wondering about my thoughtless dedication to this man. It’s like there is no one else in this world for me. … Why is that? I have 65 pages of journal entries over the past year or so that should drive me the other way. My “job” here has been done - If that’s why God made me love him, that is …. J will recover and be o.k. – The question is: will that change what kind of partner he is? J still is who he is. Or what is going to be part of a past self and what not?

I have several people who seem to be truly interested in me. I can see it in their eyes – really “good” characters; decent, honest, ambitious men… and I couldn’t be colder to them whenever there is an interaction (not by my choice – usually work related encounters). Not cold, maybe but definitely without any interest whatsoever. Not opening any window. They don’t stand a chance against J, who is in a drug addiction recovery program! Why is that? Is my commitment too much for my own good? J might come out of there not loving me anymore….he might begin to love someone else a few years down the line. I mean, why on earth did he stop loving his ex-wife (who is actually still his wife, for I don't think he ever signed the papers)? He loved her as fiercely as he loved me. … I loved D differently than I love J. I can explain that to myself but J’s scenario doesn’t make sense to me.

If this thing between me and J is supposed to work once he comes out then I need to be able to leave the past in the past. There is no other way. I need to be able to give him trust as if he were a new man. The question is: will this be possible? Can one just leave bygones be bygones and start fresh?

I, for example, can’t stop arguing about the fact that I did nothing wrong. To him, I have been as much at fault as he has when we got together. In his opinion, he thinks I was unfaithful which drives me F*IN' nuts. It makes me sooo angry, for it is so not true. When I thought my marriage might still have a shot, and he was STILL WITH his wife, he kept on hitting on me – sometimes, flat out asking me to sleep with him. He seems to not remember the many times I changed the direction of the conversation. How many times I’ve shot him down. And he simply doesn’t know how much I began to avoid him once our friendship took that turn. – The only thing he remembers is how I opened up to him emotionally in the last few weeks of my life with D. A time in which my marriage was already over. It wasn’t cheating or engaging in any unfair behaviors…my relationship was OVER and D knew this as much as I. We were splitting up. Divorce had been a topic for me and D (in fact, he had been the one who brought it up, at the same time refusing therapy) before I even reconnected with J after a year and a half without any communication.

That is a very different situation than the circumstances under which he made his advances. He was still living with a woman who wanted to be with him. He still had a child with her afterward, for goodness sake!! -- But – J doesn’t like to hear this truth. He can’t stand it that he’d done wrong and I didn’t.

Is this going to bother me forever? I hate it when he says “the way we got together” … what do you mean? We didn’t break any vows. I certainly didn’t. I did this as straight as possible but break-ups and partner switches are never easy and clean. The one thing I should have done differently is that I should have waited longer before giving in to my love for J. Yes, my marriage was over but I should have waited longer. But this is a technicality. …It’s not like I had an affair…I found my soul-mate…who happened to be my friend….and I left a marriage which would have ended either way. There was no way I was going to share my old age with D, as nice and good as he can be – we had nothing in common and talking to him was generally not very stimulating to me. We don’t share the same sense of humor and we are just on different levels with different interests.

Maybe J and I are doomed as well. We can’t be together in peace. What he should do is try to go back to his wife and child. His wife loves him still, I am sure and he loves her….or it will come back. After this recovery program he can be ready to be taken back.

And what about me? … Well… darlin' – you always say you don’t need a f’in man to be happy. So, try it without. Don’t give in to anyone just because they’re courting you and you’d be available. Focus on your work, your photography, your children (well I always do that), and your friends. It’s more peaceful to NOT be in a relationship. Especially a relationship that’s so passionate…with all its jealousy and anger and fights.

You are trying to be above all this, aren’t you? You are striving for philosophical enlightenment. Stupid relationship problems are stones in the way and they certainly don’t help you to mature and detach from mundane emotions any further.

Ach...if it only were all that simple. If we could just shed ourselves from the daily burdens of being human and be above it all. HA! ... I guess, that time will come eventually. It's called "time of death". ;)