I have to provide a piece of information about Dee.  She is a black woman.  This is not who she is for me but rather a simple fact.  

Upon entering my house, Chloe freaked out and barked at her.  Because that’s what Chloe does with anyone that is not Rick, Keith or I.  She’s very territorial and overly protective of me. 

We walked around the house and she said a few kind things.  She then stated, “This is great for you and Rick but for my family of 5 we could never afford a house in St Petersburg.”  This is not true.  I have a friend who has 4 kids and a family of 6 who owns a home in St Petersburg and is in the same economic stratus as Dee.  (why do people convince themselves they cannot do something simply because they have not ever achieved it as of yet?)

Then when we left the house and went back to the car where another co-worker K was, (he’s Puerto Rican and decided not to come into my house, gave no excuse), Dee stated, “Kristy needs to bring more black people to her house because her dog is racist and doesn’t like me or else she needs to let that dog look into the mirror so she can see that she’s black too!”

When she said this I laughed and stated the obvious (at least to me) “Chloe doesn’t like anyone who isn’t Rick, me or Keith”.  As it sunk in….I didn’t find this exchange to be funny.  I have been analyzing this and over analyzing this exchange and the course of events ever since.  Was she simply trying to be funny? 

I don’t consider myself racist at all.  I do not judge people for ethnic, cultural or other reasons.  And yet this exchange seemed like the reverse of racism. Is this some odd technique or something whereby a black person says something derogatory to point out that I am not one of them?  I’m just not feeling it or understanding it.

The other co-worker who remained in the car has a black g.f. He didn’t say anything to her commentary.    He didn’t laugh.  He didn’t comment.  I could not see his face because he was in the back of my car.  He had no response however.

Upon returning to the workplace after going to a nice Thai restaurant and having lunch together, she stated to all within hearing “Kristy’s dog is racist!” Because we were at work I simply walked away.

The notion that a dog is racist is ridicules.  The notion that this comment is funny is too.

I have to ask myself…did this woman see what I have achieved in the form of my new home and attribute it to my being white?

I cannot speak for her…I can only say that I will never understand using any attribute about yourself as an excuse for why you are not successful. I don’t even know if that’s what this is about for her.  I can only speculate.  I know many people of other ethnicity’s that are far more successful than I.  Indian doctors, Chinese dentist….perhaps my being white means I can’t practice medicine now?  

I know someone will tell me I do not understand the plight of the black man….and I don’t.  I just can’t quite think that this girl’s comments yesterday were funny or appropriate.  Is this the part whereby if you’re black it’s ok to call each other the n word or make reference to race relations to white people and yet if you are white you are supposed to simply stand by and show tolerance?

I wanted to say something but also wanted to be respectful.  I was honestly at a loss as to how to properly say it without turning the entire thing into a racial line in the sand.  I’m not racist….and neither is my dog for crying out loud.

I commented about this to Rick and he simply stated, “That’s crap…you’d never go to her house and point out that she had a white dog…because you would never even think on those terms.”

This begs the question…do black people make everything a color issue because they deal with racism so much that they actually end up making it more of an issue?

Trust that I’m simply trying to understand….something that I don’t. 
 

I emailed this information to my sister.

“Just found out last night from Keith that (the ex)’s wife’s BMW they bought 3 years ago was repossessed about 3 weeks ago.  He now gets up (the ex not Keith) at 4 a.m. to drive her into work and make it to work herself.  Can you imagine their drives into work?”

I usually do not gloat about these things and in fact there is a part of me that has always wished that he would get his shit together and be a better person. I always hold out hope that this time (when things seem on an upswing…) he will do okay.  I did it the entire 12 years we were married.  I have been doing it since we got divorced.  When he bought his house I crossed my invisible fingers that he’d manage to hang onto it.  Why?  Because it’s the best thing for my son.  It’s always been that way.  I want my son to have a father he can be proud of, etc.

I’ve spoken to my son all along about my feelings about the things his father chooses to do, and yet I have tried so hard not to be that parent in a divorce situation that badmouths their ex.  I try hard to walk the tightrope of being fair.  There are a few things I know for sure.

My ex-husband loves his son a lot.  My ex-husband has a lot of problems that have nothing to do with who or what is around him.  My ex-husband is precisely what my sister pegged him to be in her reply….

Awwww….poor guy.  Yeah right – he gets what he deserves.  Why can’t he just work a regular job and pay his bills like everyone else has to?!!!  He has a pipe dream of being someone important and wealthy.   

 
My ex-husband is a sociopath.  He has problems.  Problems that don’t excuse his bad choices nor do those problems make it any easier for those that choose to care for him. My son loves his father but he’s reaching an age whereby he sees things from a different perspective too.  My ex and I do not see eye to eye regarding religion, race, sexual preferences, political beliefs, etc.  We are two totally different people.  Sometimes now it’s impossible for me to remember why I ever wanted to be with him.  I blame it on youth. Because now that I know who I am and I understand who he is, it makes me draw a blank as to how or why we ever ended up together.  He doesn’t want to work for someone else, its above him to take on a part time job to get his finances straightened out.  He makes bad choices financially and otherwise (I mean look who he married….another person with no goals, aspirations etc beyond being a home wrecker).

The worse part is that my ex had to come clean and admit something about this BMW that disappeared and the impact it has on their day to day life.  He told Keith that they did in fact repossess it and that he has enough money in the bank to pay the car off but doesn’t feel the car is worth it so they will not be getting it back.

Who convinces themselves that this is the truth?  Only he can….my ex that is.  The sad part is that when I think about his wife….I laugh.  She so wanted my life and she’s getting it in large doses.

Last night after I ended my conversation with my son, who is brilliant and amazing and all things good, I went for a walk with Rick to take Chloe out before bed.  I started to talk about how frustrating sociopathic behavior is and how much it used to affect my outlook on life.  And how sad the entire thing is because despite all the pain he caused me in the past I wish he would get it straight and live life like a normal person because truly that’s what my son deserves.  I try to take all of this and make it all a life lesson for my son.  To learn what NOT to do because he sees the consequences his father is paying.  Going to bed at 8 p.m. to get up at 4 a.m. because you bought a car you never really could afford and now you’ve managed to lose it to repossession.  Lest we not forget their house was just in foreclosure, it appears they did a re-org loan on that and so it’s hard to say how long that band-aid will last either.

It’s all a mess.  One that many tell me not to think about or concern myself with.  But wait….wait people..you don’t get it.  The one person I love more than life itself…is affected by these things.  And that is my son….our son.  The little boy we brought into this world…and as long as I’m in this world I will concern myself with all that affects my child.

I hope that he is as strong as I interpret him to be.  I hope that he gets it the way he seems to.  I hope that he knows that his father has problems that are not entirely of his own doing.  Sociopath’s have mental illnesses.  I have never uttered these words because to be quite honest….that mental illness made me mentally ill for years.

Last night walking with Rick aching for what my son is seeing….aching for all the years that sociopathic behavior tortured me and made me depressed…suicidal and angst ridden….I realized….

I am calm.  I am peaceful.  My life is rewarding.  I have met goals.  I have purchased a house. I have clean credit.  I have a car no one will ever take away and so does Rick.  I have Chloe and I have love.

But I still don’t have my biggest wish…..  Sure I laugh at him…sure I think she deserves it and perhaps he does to…but honestly I wish I could make him better…but I gave up on that idea when he ended our marriage.  These are all things for her to worry about now….and yet I love my son.

It’s like some choices you make in life will haunt you to some degree for the rest of your life.

I said all of these things would come to pass.  When he and his wife were living the high life going on cruises…I told Keith to have fun…that it wouldn’t last.  I told Rick that I had to get my degree because he would never sustain things long enough…he being the ex.  I told everyone that I had a plan because I could see the writing on the wall.  They all nodded, but no one ever got it.  I took the time when all the juggling balls were in the air to put myself in a better situation to help my son…because when the circus tent was up and the show was going full blast I knew there would be a fire one day to burn it all down…..sociopaths have patterns…they never weave a different rug.  My ex’s world is one that I lived in for years, so while everyone smiled and his stupid bitch wife acted smug about her new car…I nodded and smiled…I even sang along to the circus music.  I knew the big top would come down one day…

I’m grateful to the universe that my son truly talks to me, that my husband loves me and that I have so much to be joyful about despite this one thing that makes me so sad sometimes I can’t hold it all in….  I’m grateful that I stuck to my guns and dismissed all the torturous commentary from those that never attended the circus with me.  I’m proud of myself and so glad I listened to my own heart.  I’m proud of my son and I’m glad he chooses to listen to his own heart too…that is the thing that I am proudest of in the end.

And it’s sad, so sad,

There ain’t no easy way round.

And it’s sad, so sad,

All you friends gather round

‘Cause the circus left town.

-Eric Clapton

Tonight it’s after midnight and I just spent a few hours online working on my film class.  I also scrolled around looking for a reading light for my bedroom so I can ditch can the clip on version because I bought a new bed for the new house.

I just had a moment of clarity.  Some would say I haven’t gotten over the past…they would be almost all wrong.  Yes, there are prickly things in my past that I struggle with, the former marriage is not one of them.

I am happy.  I am content.  I am overwhelmed at times with how marriage can be.  How good it is meant to be and is for me now.  There are small moments like now when I am munching on a late night bowl of cereal when I think, “Damn this is all so good, thank you!” 

I don’t know who I’m thanking since I struggle with my spiritual beliefs…but if it’s merely the universe or luck…I am full of gratitude.

I used to stay up staring at this blaring bright screen late at night to avoid…tonight for the past few hours I have lulled my aggravation with school and spending time at it…with thoughts of “when I get done, I can go curl up next to my man”.  The fact that I find reward in that is something I don’t take for granted.  Rick is not perfect, heck I’m not perfect….

But when I go lay next to him and listen to him breath in the middle of the night and feel my Chloe’ness curl herself up against my leg…..that is bliss.  That is home.  That is….

In the following months I ditched my former OB/GYN (could NOT handle sitting in a waiting room full of pregnant teenagers holding 3 kids.)  I went to a fertility clinic because at least there I would not be sitting with pregnant women and oddly even if I saw a pregnant woman there I would be ok with it because that pregnant woman would have earned that pregnancy in my mind.  At the fertility clinic they are maxed out on the latest technology and they are able to do trans-vaginals in less then five minutes flat in their own offices.  This is very convenient for me and my wonky working uterus.  Thing is even if no more babies ever occupy my uterus I still need to concern myself with it’s ongoing health because that’s what PCOS does to you.  It makes you fear cancer for life in a big way.

In the month of December and January I was put on two medications.  One to decrease the high blood pressure that Yasmin also gave me immediately and another to fake my body into having a period every month because I don’t ovulate and therefore there is no period unless we medically make one.

In the past few months I’ve had amazingly perfect periods and have felt better than I have in ten years about my female health.

I have also moved away from all the sadness and mind numbing pain of not being able to reproduce.  But…every so often something triggers that feeling and it’s like a knife through me.  But even those triggers are fewer and farther between.

The things I have learned to avoid are

Blogs whereby the mother’s bitch about their wonderful children doing nothing but being children.

Women at work who bitch about their children yet keep popping more out.

Pregnant women in grocery stores, bookstores, any public places where I must sit or be for long periods of time.  I do not want to hear them complain about pregnancy woes at all!!

Not spending the majority of my time at doctor’s officers and hospitals having my nether regions poked prodded, etc.

Having done this…I am sane.  I am ok. I have mostly moved on and forgotten that we ever went down the hell path of infertility treatments at all.  The one thing I can’t avoid…..the occasional moments when I say something about “my” son and my husband responds by saying, “yes I know I don’t have any.”  I assumed he was ok and beyond things too…but those times show me that he still has moments where it’s hard.

Together as a couple we are better in this place.  We can come and go as we please, we’re not struggling to pay for diapers and we’re not emotionally ripped apart taking fertility drugs, etc.  That was a nightmare situation. 

I’m really ok, minus the fact that I will always have an inability to watch “Baby Story” again.

But every month I happily swallow ten pills for ten days, wait for five days and insert a tampon.  That’s a major improvement health wise and I’m happy with it.

I almost bought it…. 

I mean I didn’t sell it to them…I’m sure he did 

but instead I realized I’m not that girl anymore….not one bit…this girl can buy a new copy 

we get a lot of sick days where I work, and I take ‘em accordingly.