Happy Magnifying Divorce Day

I know, I know, so dramatic… But wowza watching the flowers pour in at work even the day before Valentine’s day got me all emotional… and pissed. And for reasons that I can’t even say I understand- yet here we are, emotional and pissed. Now the weirdest part of this is that it’s not like my husband really did a lot for me when it came to Valentine’s day, or even my birthday for that matter. So I shouldn’t be upset at all, it should really just be another day, another year of not getting something. BUT it just seems like everything is magnified and emotions are high and I just want to walk around with two middle fingers up all day. Too bad that’s not even in the realm of “Professional Behavior”.

 

Then people who I do tell about how I feel just say that Valentine’s Day just say that it’s “a made up holiday anyway, just don’t think about it”. But it’s not Valentine’s Day I hate, it’s just the reminder that at some point I was in love, and said vows promising to love someone till death do us part- or really until my husband just decided he wanted a divorce and BOOM, marriage over. OY!

 

But I will just swim in all the Celine Dion songs ever made, eat my own chocolate and wear pink anyway.

 

Oh, but F-U Valentines Day. J

Vegas Friend | Tell All… (TMI)

 

We’ve known each other for years. We went on a “date” (really unsure if it should be called a date, complicated) the night I signed my divorce papers. Now- this was *not* a date. I am not like a total crazy person here who decided 4 minutes after getting a divorce that “I wanted to start dating”. We simply went to dinner.

We spent a lot of time together at first. We would get off work at about the same time, usually make some sort of dinner plans, and sometimes I would stay the night. Now this was also before the time that I drove, so Vegas Friend would pick me up and drop me off all the time.

Dinner, movies, get a massage, go to Vegas, stay in and watch Tosh.0- even weird mundane shit like grocery shopping- I didn’t drive and we both needed to go.

I needed to buy a car so I saved what I thought would be enough for a down payment. Vegas friend and I woke up one morning and he said “wanna go car shopping today?”. And no, I did not. At all. I thought I was going to DIE from anxiety. I wouldn’t even test drive any of the vehicles because I was too scared. I ended up finding my car, and when the dealership wanted X amount of money more for a down payment, Vegas Friend, without hesitation, offered it to me. And I really didn’t want to take it, and it felt weird- but I was also so close to owning that car that I accepted. And of course, I paid him back.

( Side note, I did end up calling Mom/Ass Kicker at the dealership where she was like BUY THE DAMN CAR- in a nice way of course>)

Now I still didn’t have my license and Vegas Friend and I would practice in my car all the time… But I couldn’t bring myself to take the driver’s test. Then one-day Vegas Friend called me on my shit when I was in Texas. Basically, said I didn’t drive because I was too scared to drive, and I was just holding myself back. And he was stupidly correct. So, I made an appointment, took the test and PASSED! Still probably one of the greatest feelings I have had in my life.

Vegas Friend and I have been to Vegas twice, Palm Springs, we do fun random stuff all the time. He helped me move into where I am living now

Now I know what you’re thinking- wow, this “friend” is awfully nice. And yep, he is. But I think it’s obvious by our Vegas trips and sleep overs that we are a smidge more than friends. It’s complicated though- I won’t marry Vegas Friend. He won’t marry me. We won’t ever say I love you, or live together- and we are both 100% okay with that. We have a very low maintenance kind of “relationship” that works for both of us right now- and when it doesn’t work, then we will talk about it.

But this is what I will say… even though I am super hesitant to say these things on a blog…

The things I have learned from Vegas Friend are amazing. (So please Mom/Ass Kicker/ any one else who doesn’t want to know TURN AWAY)

I love traveling.

I love stuffed jalapenos.

There’s no way to see a movie unless it’s with reclining seats.

Sex is supposed to be good for BOTH people.

Star Wars doesn’t suck as much as I thought it would.

Relationships should be built on respect.

Back rubs solve almost everything.

People who respect you will never physically hurt you- in any capacity.

Beignets are a special type of delicious.

Day drinking is acceptable when you are on vacation.

Life is too short to eat crappy food.

What makes sex good is being comfortable and honest with each other.

 

Shit Vegas Friend does that makes me smile-

Ties my hair in a ponytail when I make cookies so it’s not in my face.

Cleans my car window when he fills my car up (because I don’t like to pump).

Makes sure the heater is on when I come over.

Teaches me to put air in my tires.

Spends money on a henna tattoo for me, knowing it will wash off.

Pretty sure he almost called 911 one day when I was writhing in pain from cramps at his house.

 

Like I said, it’s REALLY complicated. And I am leaving a few key pieces out here as to why it is so complicated.

But it works, and if for nothing else to teach us both some more lessons in life with a smile- and a lunch buddy.

Divorce Update| Adultish is Moving Out

It’s 3AM right now on the third night in a row of  not sleeping. The first night I didn’t sleep because I was stressed an emotional. Cried and cried. The second night I couldn’t sleep because all I could think about was how many spatulas one person might need. The third night, well. Half of my room is disseminated, piles for trash and giveaway, making sure I have everything.

I am moving even closer to work (as if I wasn’t close already). I am moving into *basically* my own place. The owners took one incredibly large master bedroom and put a wall up, then created a kitchen. Full size fridge and everything. I have my own bathroom, own pantry- it’s all mine… by myself.

And while I can’t say I’m not freakishly excited, it also feels “wrong” in a way. I have never been completely by myself before. It’s definitely a stepping stone in adulting. I am some kind of  “scared” or something. I have house sat before and I love it- everythings quiet and all mine. My roommate frequently goes on trips and I am home alone. But this is different. This is my own space, my own stuff.

The place (definitely need to think of a name for my new home… any suggestions??) isn’t furnished- which, keeping with the theme of positivity, is good! It gives me a chance to buy my own furniture (gradually though, I am already freaking out about the fact I don’t own towels or a single spatula). Vegas Friend has an air mattress I will be sleeping on for a few weeks (maybe two… I just don’t have the courage to buy a bed.. I don’t think).

This also means a whole new budget! Yay!

I am so incredibly excited. I have learned a lot by living here with my roommate. The basis of being a grown up and paying rent. Telling her I was moving out was hard. I cried just because I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but as she said, it’s a time to spread my wings. (Insert anxious persons mind here: SPREAD MY WINGS? I AM NOT A BIRD, I DO NOT HAVE WINGS, WHAT AM I DOING DOING BIRD THINGS?!?!?!)

Vegas Friend has an extra set of silverware and plates, AssKicker Mom has a surplus of towels I can have. A friend at work has a dresser. It’s all coming together quite smoothly. Now granted, I don’t have a spatula, knife, cutting board, heater, bath mat, oven mitts and like 30 other super important things- but that’s okay.

Now, as far as the divorce…. You’re going to get a kick out of this. You know how some questions just can’t be sugar coated? Mhhkay…

I text my ex randomly last week saying exactly this “so, are we divorced yet?”

Insert seal laugh/clapping here. I didn’t do it to be mean! Like how else was I supposed to ask that? I think his response was “I think so” (sidenote: love how neither of us know). I guess we are waiting on the judge or some garbage that his lawyer promised would be done over a month ago.

Considering the possibly-maybe-could-be-slightly-divorced box I now check at the doctors office, I did a thing. I made a “Divorce Party” registry on Target, listed those stinking spatulas and even a salt and pepper shaker (because I don’t even have that… bahahahha). Which I am not going to lie, the last time I did a registry was for my wedding. But when the bomb dropped I only packed my clothes and hair products (duh) and left EVERY SINGLE THING THERE. Stinker has a crockpot I bet he never uses.

I am excited for what all of this means for Adultish. Basically, I am going to learn a stink-ton more of life lessons- and you guys get to hear all about it! Just don’t let me sell my kidney when things get rough, okay? Cause I have already looked up the price.

 

My Response: My Marriage Failed, And Your Opinion About That Doesn’t Count

I am new to this divorce thing, seeing as how mine is final in 25 days. But what I am not new to is the immense judgement that comes with “divorce”. The week my divorce made headline news at work (ugh) people would ask “how long were you married?” as if to quantify my pain with time married and see if they equated to something noteworthy. Or “Why are you getting a divorce, have you tried counseling?” infinite eye rolls.

Mom Ass Kicker sent me this article today My Marriage Failed, And Your Opinion About That Doesn’t Count and Heather LeRoss said it so plainly “The ‘reasons’ for divorce don’t matter”. There is not an emotional richter scale where x reason equals y amount of hurt or pain. Divorce is divorce. It’s the end of what you planned. It’s the death of an entire life you’ve crafted.

I thought about the scale of “starting over”. Everything my ex husband and I did was for our future. We bought a house so we would be more financially stable. Once we got the house we got a kid friendly dog, chosen specifically for it’s demeanor with children. We wanted to have the dog for a few years before we had kids. We planned to remodel the house to add additional rooms for said imaginary kids. We had a savings for incidentals and planned how exactly we were going to do everything. And then it was over.

Divorce is not easy, or quick. Divorce really is LeRoss’ example of carry around a glass bowl that just gets heavier and heavier and then watching it fall and being left to pick up the glass pieces. And you know you will cut yourself on the glass, you know you will be inured and it will suck and hurt. But you can’t tip toe around glass just hoping not to get cut… that would be exhausting. So you pick up the shards of glass that look a lot like old dog pictures, engagement memorabilia, your wedding bouquet. And you chuck them in the trash and make new plans, for the new you, and the new life you’ve created.

If there is one thing trying to be adultish has taught me it’s that you get up, shake it off, and go kick ass all over again.

As LeRoss said “to all those who say, “Well, I’m entitled to my opinion,” kindly suggest since they are so entitled, they should keep it all to themselves”.

Divorce update- I might be mean.

I’ve been waiting on the divorce papers forever now. Having never gone through a divorce I really didn’t know what to expect. Everyone keeps saying that California is a 50/50 state- but our situation is a little bit different.

When he “bought” the house he actually “assumed the loan” from his grandmother. Considering this, there was no way I would be able to be on the title/deed of the house. It was technically then his grandmothers and his.

The business that he and his family owns is technically all his families. He does not become an “owner” of that business until his family gives it to him. I have no financial place in the business.

The multiple cars and trucks are all paid for by the business.

The appliances came with the house or his grandmother bought.

The tools and expensive things are from the business.

The flat screen TV won’t fit in my rented room.

Now that I have these divorce papers things look pretty bleak. I am meeting with him and his lawyer today (somehow this feels like a trap) to discuss “what I want”. Interesting idea as I am not legally entitled to have anything, nor can I fit a stainless steel fridge in my room either.

I am caught so desperately in between some weirdness I can’t even explain. I am not sure what the right road is here. I don’t want to deplete him of what is his, or make his life more financially unstable. However the grouchy part of me wants to point out that “the business” pays for a huge amount of his monthly expenses. His parents sign his check. He has a roommate that pays less rent than I do. The even grouchier part of me wants to look his lawyer in the face and ask if she really knows what happened. Does she know he talked to her about a divorce before even telling me that’s what he wanted? Does she know that he drained the bank accounts? Does she know that the “assests” he listed he is missing a huge amount of things on?

Probably not. And it probably doesn’t matter. I don’t think that legally emotions matter.

All I know is that I can just try to do the right thing. I work as much as I can, I try to be a good person. I try to do right. I keep thinking of maybe getting a second job (don’t ask when, I have no clue!).

A Bad Day.

I know I write this blog and I talk about getting over things, how to be happy, how to get your life together. But by no means does that mean that I actually have my own life together/ that my life is perfect.

I think a big issue in the world is that we all pretend like “our shit don’t stink”… and let’s face it, errrrrbodys shit stinks.

I get messages from you guys all the time saying “thank you for posting the blog on depression” “thank you for your honesty” but holy crap- I am so far from perfect.

This morning I didn’t think I could get out of bed. Yes, I am on depression and anxiety medicine, but that doesn’t mean that every day is perfect. I so have my good days and bad days. The only difference with the medicine is that I can be a bit more rational in my thoughts.

I don’t sleep at night because, well, I have no clue why. I can’t look at pictures of the dog that my ex and I bought because it makes me want to cry. Sometimes my roommate comes home and I am laying on my floor staring at the ceiling and she has to coax the rational Kristen to emerge again. Depression medicine is not a permanent fix.

Sometimes the anxiety I have is so intense it convinces me that people hate me. That my own Ass/Kicker Mom hates me, that my roommate will kick me out because I keep forgetting to put the pizza cutter in the sink. That I will be fired if I come in at 8:03 instead of 8:00.

The biggest difference between a bad day now, versus months ago is my attitude. When I couldn’t get out of bed I text my roommate. (I have learned that I cannot keep those types of secrets to myself). She made me a cup of coffee and text me saying “breathe. Go take a shower and #handleit”. So I got up. I told her all of my irrational thoughts and the moment they left my mouth I was at ease.

I am grateful for these days though because they let me learn so much. Like the importance of friends… and coffee.