When Sorry Isn't Enough

I'm trying, you guys. I'm trying to build again. I'm trying to remember to focus on work and to bring some interesting stories home, to be supportive, to listen, to try to remember the advice I often give others: That it's rarely about you, it's about the other person when there's unsettledness about.

But last night I found out, after doing some Inquisition-style questioning, that GPOM's been lying to me. Lying. I hate lying. And not about important things, but about small, dumb things, like where he's been eating lunch. He's been coming home and telling me about the Subway(c) sandwiches he's eaten, how he's not having cheese on them because he's watching his weight but how he just couldn't resist a meatball sub one day, about the multi-generational owners and the chit-chat they share now that he's a regular at that restaurant.

But there's one small problem: I can see all the bank accounts, and I know he's been living off of Taco Bell and Chick-Fil-A. And I don't care, you guys, I really don't. My only concern is that eating out every day gets expensive fast, and we're trying to live on a rather tight budget for a while (car insurance is due this month, on two cars). But why lie about where you're eating? Why tell me lies about conversations that never happened?

Last night he said he went out for post-work cocktails with coworkers, but he didn't tell me because he didn't want me to be mad. Why would I be mad about drinks with friends? I asked him if he ever intended to tell me, and he said no.

I don't know. I wish I understood why he feels the need to lie. Am I that scary; have I been that overbearing?

Trying Again

I asked him to come home last night via text, and he said he was already settled and we really did need the break. He called a while ago and I asked him to just come home tonight, don't stay somewhere else. I don't think we can talk through what's going on with us with the distance between us.

He knows that he has to re-earn my respect and trust. I know that I have to fairly give him the opportunity to do so. We're going to try some reflective listening, where one person speaks and the other person answers back what the second party heard the first party say. We're also going to try "I" statements instead of hyperbolic blame statements.

I'm mostly to blame for those "You always" statements.

We'd love to get some couples counseling but we're not in a place where we can afford it right now. There's too many real-life problems that need tackling first. Maybe with insurance, assuming his job works out, we can get some help. In the meantime, we're going to look for some good self-help for couples books and give them a try. If you've got a recommendation, I'd love to know about it.

How long before my stomach unknots, do you think?

He's Gone

After a long weekend, that seemed perfect in its perfection on Friday night, things fell apart. And more apart. And so apart that I considered intervention. Then kindness. Then the realization that my kindness toward another did nothing for the fact that I hadn't done anything wrong.

So tonight I told him to leave. He tried to tell me that he couldn't talk to me, but I couldn't listen. Because I knew. I knew we needed a break. I knew that I didn't want to tuck someone else into bed. I knew that just because it was my thought didn't mean it was wrong.

I don't know where he is tonight. He asked if he could call me over his lunch break tomorrow, and I said, "Sure."

"Sure" is his least favorite answer from me, but it was all I could give.

We hugged. We cried. I hate seeing his face when he cries, but I have to take care of me.

I don't know what will happen. I love him, but I know love isn't enough.

How To Lose Custody

Since I happen to do a lot of family law work, and because my sister is an experienced family law attorney in California, she and I have had occasion to discuss the things that parents do that can really hurt their chances to either get awarded or lose custody of their children.

My sister tells me of a person who had custody of a daughter, and the battle to keep custody was quite hot. Facebook got involved, as it often does...

ASIDE: IF YOU USE SOCIAL NETWORKING, STFU ABOUT YOUR CASE, OFFSPRING, OR OPPOSING PARTY. IF YOU CAN'T STOP YOURSELF, DISABLE YOUR PROFILE.

This parent was to most a good parent, loving, kind, set appropriate boundaries, all the good stuff, but there was a fatal flaw. This parent thought it was really funny to dress the daughter up in outfits and costumes, complete with accessories, take pictures of her, and post these photos to Facebook.  This parent, after a game of dress-up including "gangster attire" and an unloaded gun, no longer has custody of the child.

I'm posting the picture below as an example - this photo has nothing to do with the above case, but it was on my Facebook newsfeed. Parents, be wise about these things. Once it's on the internet, it can never be erased.

It doesn't matter if the gun is a prop, or fake, or unloaded, or even tin foil wrapped up to look like a weapon. Be smart. Don't do this.

Tears For A Stranger

I am an admitted fan of Heather Armstrong, and have been for years now. Years? How did that happen? But it did, because in her writing I found an online kindred soul, someone around my age, someone who has a similar background, and someone substantially stronger than I.

You guys know how careful I am on the internet. If you read dooce, you know how careful she is not. I consider that very, very brave.

I've read her site with dedication for years, bought and devoured her books, told my friends about her site, and copied her writing style more than I like to admit. I pretend it's inspiration, and it is, but there are times I've directly taken from her. I'm not proud of that, but it's done, and unerasable on the internet.

I know of which she speaks when she talks about the depression, the overpowering Why? of everything, the desire to just call it a day. It's not a selfish act in that moment, it's not meant to hurt others, it's meant to save myself. But as she's pulled herself out, I've pulled myself out, at different times and in different manners.

I've envied her life, her sense of humor, her ability to create an empire of sorts, one that can financially protect her family. When I read of the stress it causes her to be the sole breadwinner, I understood that pressure. I know what it feels like to see that infinite crack and KNOW in that minute that everything will, in fact, fall apart, and that moment is seconds, minutes, twenty-four hours from now.

So when I read her post today, it made me cry. I know that I, a stranger, can do nothing to help her through her life right now. But the tears come anyway, as they seem to do so easily now, and all I want to do is hug GPOM and hope like hell for a future that cannot be predicted or controlled or some days, even managed.

Yes, yes, it all works out in the end. But all those letters, thoughts, words, fears, panics, smiles, uncontrolled giggles, and hugs that form the underlying 'it' take forever.

Twisted Mind

I might as well tell you, me in a really good mood is a dangerous person to be around. I spent some time today reading this and then I had to tell GPOM that I'm amazed at the different ways to curse in different languages.

May you see your house on CNN!

I really hope that somewhere out there, someone in a different country is reading his version of cracked.com and learning about American curses and being thoroughly taken aback at the ways we all talk to each other.

Also, I told GPOM that I had Propellerheads stuck in my head, and it was Dawn's fault. I then said that she got sweet release and I got an earworm.

I Am A Dope

So here I am, five days later, working on my restored laptop.  Last Thursday, I was doing about forty things at once, including updating my antivirus software.  I kept getting error messages that said that the updates couldn't complete because of my internet connectivity...

Thanks, Comcast!  YOU ROCK!!

when I got an update that said that because my updates couldn't finish, I needed to download a special web-based scanner to make sure there was nothing naughty on my machine.  Turns out that the only naughtiness on my machine was the web-based scanner, which, after reboot, disabled both the touchpad on my laptop and the USB wireless mouse that GPOM got me for Christmas.

Lovely.

I took the machine to Gigaparts and the technician told me, eighteen hours later, that he couldn't get a USB wireless mouse to work on my laptop.

Really?  Eighteen hours later you notice that the problem for which I turned over my laptop was a problem?  Gosh, thanks.

That general crankiness aside on a Friday night, I suffered through the indignity of no internet for three more days.  I now offer many thanks to the technician at Gigaparts, because my computer seems faster and much happier.  However, I am now about five hundred dollars lighter after paying for repairs and a product key for Microsoft Office.

Thanks bunches, Best Buy, for making me buy a new product key.

Lessons learned:
1. Don't trust a pop-up antivirus scanner, even if it LOOKS EXACTLY LIKE one you'd get from the manufacturers from whom you already get updates.
2. When your significant other is as internet/computer addicted as you, please share the joy. Otherwise, you might get a glare and a potentially passive-aggressive comment.
3. Thank the people who help you repair the problem.