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February 2008 archivesFriday, February 29, 2008
Gone
A couple of weeks ago, I was scouring my computer, looking for an old entry I'd written. Not long after I announced I was getting a divorce, as a response to what seemed to be an onslaught of people scouring my site to read the old entries, I took down all of my live archives at ejshea.com. At the time, it was weird to look at my referral pages and see (mostly) strangers tear through page after page of things I'd written about my ex and our relationship, and then it was just plain hurtful after I discovered total strangers gathering in online forums to discuss the end of my marriage. I wasn't about to provide easy access to those folks looking to use my own words to take shots at me. That time was a shitty time on its own, and I didn't need to watch as people spent sometimes a good two hours reading old posts of mine, even if some of those reading weren't wishing me ill whatsoever. I suppose I can say with clarity now that I worried those people would uncover the very thing I'd been fearing the most - that they'd discover what I had earlier, that I had been a fake and a phony. I wasn't exactly ready to conduct more of such self-discovery in public, much less online. I cannot tell you how many times that those in my day-to-day life would say to me, "But all of your entries! All of those things you wrote!" I always steeled myself for one of those people to follow it with, "Were you just lying?" They never did, of course, because the obvious answer was, yes. Yes, I was. I know now that it wasn't a conscious consideration on my part as much as it was the act of someone trying to write the relationship she wanted, thinking eventually it would come true. A goodly portion was true: I loved him, he was my friend, and everyone liked him very much. The parts I left out: I wasn't in love with him, we had barely a thing in common, didn't spend much time together and I couldn't leave him because everyone liked him. It is criminally easy to put yourself in a situation that is safe and sound. But time passed, and things happened, and I realized that I had to leave. I had to come to terms with the fact that, yup, I was a phony and a fake. I'd been manufacturing for myself a life that had more to do with what I thought would make me happy, rather than giving any considered thought as to what actually would -- in and outside of the blog. In doing so I hurt a lot of people. My marriage was the collateral damage of all of this self-examination. I don't mean to sounds trite, but it's important to note that once I realized that the life I was living mirrored absolutely nothing that I truly wanted, I couldn't keep moving forward for the sake of safe. My dearest friends have said I was brave for what I did. And there are a handful of days, when I see what my life is like now, that I believe them. Most days I am just ashamed and sorry for having been so cowardly for so long, in the many years leading up to leaving Erik. Because that's what it boils down to: I was a coward. The leap between coward and liar is not far, and eventually they become mates.
Posted by Erin at 06:03 PM | | filed under: Random Stupidity Monday, February 18, 2008
Schuyler's Monster
My very good friend Rob has a book hitting store shelves tomorrow. It's called "Schuyler's Monster" and you all need to go and buy it. And not just because I make an appearance in the book, or because Rob makes me sound like the nicest person ever in it - both of which are, of course, impossibly true. I kid, I kid. Well, about the latter. No, you need to go and buy Rob's book because he's not only a talented, wonderful writer but also - and most importantly - because stories like Schuyler's aren't told nearly enough. It's not my place - nor my intention - to dog on other books about broken kids (as Rob likes to call them), but it's all too often that these kids are discussed in fluffy, overwrought terms. Schuyler, like many kids with disabilities to deal with, is a scrappy little fighter. She doesn't need anyone to call her "Angel" or similar descriptions. Knowing Schuyler, she'd prefer "Ninja." Seriously. The kid is a fighter. And takes shit from no one. You want an example of girl power, well, Schuyler's your girl. It's been several years since the Rummel-Hudson clan stayed at my house that fateful week when they learned that what they'd feared would be the worst was the reality. From my father on down, everyone in my life knew what a nerve-wracking time that was for me. I never told them how nervous I was, and when you read Rob's book, you'd never know it either. I was so worried about being the right kind of support for them - I cooked a lot, bought them all winter hats and gloves, picked up a bunch of toys for Schuyler, threw a dinner party, arranged for private museum trips, bought booze, anything I could think of. I worried about being too obtrusive and too distant. I called Tracey for advice, my friends ... In the end, as JP predicted, I was able to give them the one thing they needed, which was to make them feel less alone. The wonderful thing about Rob's book is its honesty. Schuyler's condition may be rare, but as a family they are as normal as one can be, and I say this beyond just my own personal experience with them. Families have loads of crap to deal with, lots of baggage, lots of things we do to each other in service of our own agendas, and so in that vein, their story is relatable in that bittersweet way that true stories of family often are. I'm proud of my friend and what he's accomplished with this book. It was a long time coming. Posted by Erin at 07:59 AM | | filed under: Odds and ends Thursday, February 14, 2008
What's playing on Erin's iPod right now ...
You Make My Dreams Come True On a night when bad dreams become a screamer Listen to this I'm down on my daydream
Posted by Erin at 11:56 PM | | filed under: iPod Wednesday, February 13, 2008
One small step
Last year, after I began the arduous task of digging myself out of the hole that was my mindset after the emotional upheaval of 2005 through the beginning of 2007, I knew that I was going to have to make some serious adjustments to my entire life. Behaviors would need to alter. Priorities would need to shift. Heads would need to be shrunk. Divorce does not, as one might think, or at least one who never experienced divorce first-hand, provide you a clean slate. It's incredibly messy, on so many levels, and there aren't enough erasers in the world to undo all that you gone and done. You're broke, tired and, most likely, fat. Well, I was fat. In terms of what my priorities were in fixing any of these situations, well, I didn't have many. For about a solid 12 months I just kept throwing these three aspects of my life up in the air and hoped that one would stick up on the ceiling just long enough for me to get a handle on the other two. Kind of like that slimy, neon goo you used to be able to get out of vending machines. I suppose I thought that three was a crowd when it came to dealing with The Problem Trifecta, or as I like to call them "The Big Three." But, not surprisingly, no matter how hard or fast or often I threw Broke, Tired and Fat up in the air, inevitably they'd all end up a pile of crazy together on my living room floor. I will stop with the bad analogy now. Honest to God, I for a long time thought if I just played my cards right, waited certain situations out, tended to the money tree Shelane sent me the first month I was on my own, prayed, bargained, borrowed, that I'd eventually come out on top and be just fine. These are all tactics that leave fate to its own devices and situations such as divorce call for action. Contrary to what some may have thought of me in the past, I am not a woman of action. I am a woman of sit-on-her-ass-and-watch-Jack-McCoy-fight-for-justice. But this sit-and-watch-the-world-go-by plan turned out to be not much of a plan at all. And worse still was that finding a remedy to any of these problems seemed unattractive to say the least. I'd been fat for the majority of my life and gaining 20 pounds was small potatoes when you compare it to the gargantuan efforts it took for me to get out of bed, what with all of the guilt I was carrying on my back. I could handle fat. I've pretty much always been tired. My mom was tired all of the time. I suspect her mother before her. I'm the person who fell asleep first at slumber parties, who would always rather nap than just about anything else. Scott has forever teased me about the fact that if 30 minutes go by and I'm not at work, and he hasn't heard from me, chances are good that I'm sleeping. And broke? Well, I've pretty much always been broke. The only differences throughout my life have been the varying degrees to which I've been broke. There is "normal" broke, which means I pay all of my bills but can't do much of anything else, and there is "panic" broke, which leaves me huddled into a corner, crying hysterically, worrying that I will lose everything I own. Mostly the dog.
Posted by Erin at 10:05 PM | | filed under: Odds and ends Monday, February 11, 2008
She looks so innocent but ...
The vet says she should be just fine, considering her size and she doesn't seem to be showing any signs that she's sick, but she's getting some extra visits today from the dog walkers and she's lucky I don't lock her up forever. She seriously gives me a heart attack some days. In other news, my car is stuck in the ice. There is, literally, a wall of ice surrounding my car from which we cannot release it. There are plans to secure a battering ram from Home Depot tonight. Or something similar. Rock salt, shoveling and sheer will aren't cutting it. I am so over this weather. Posted by Erin at 08:29 AM | | filed under: Glin Wednesday, February 06, 2008
A special place in hell
I was reading this before we went to church on Sunday and Scott made me stop because with every paragraph I got more and more upset. There were a lot of puppies who got lots of prayers out of me last weekend. But my friend Margaret linked to it again yesterday, so I read the entire thing, twice, and I didn't cry (well, too much)but I did make a donation to Best Friends Animal Society for the work they're doing. Plus, I think it's important to read stories like that, to get upset, to pass this sort of story on to others. If we as a civilized society don't expose ourselves to these realities, and get pissed off beyond all comprehension, then we send a message that we condone the actions of people like Michael Vick, and any subsequent punishments will be laughable. Honestly. My friend Dawn said it best today: I'm kind of hoping he is already the bitch of a large inmate named Bubba. And perhaps that they are in the process of prying his teeth out so that he is less harmful during forced mating. Posted by Erin at 02:02 PM | | filed under: Random Stupidity Monday, February 04, 2008
What I do for love
Sometimes I have difficulty articulating the love and care and affection I have for Scott. There are the standard platitudes that apply here, to be sure, but there are these moments where the feeling is beyond measure, beyond description. Mostly I feel very much present in my own life, and I'm struck with the realization that, unlike in relationships past, there is sincerely, without pretending, nothing, both good and bad, that I would change. There is a contentment present in my relationship with Scott that reverberates to just about every aspect of my life. But how does one best express that sort of emotion to the person she loves? Luckily for me, I have a couple of ideas this year*.
Posted by Erin at 01:53 PM | | filed under: Odds and ends Friday, February 01, 2008
Loves the snow!
Seriously. She's just sitting there in the snow. We woke up this morning and headed outside and she went ballistic. Nothing makes her happier than frolicking through piles and piles of snow. And then sitting still in it. I do not pretend to understand it. But she looks so cute it really doesn't matter. Posted by Erin at 08:38 AM | | filed under: Glin I'm agreeing with them on this one
"Let cynics say his words are empty. Let them swim in the glowering mean-spiritedness of talk radio and the intellectually shameful spin games that pass for serious political discourse on cable news. "Let President Bush continue to falsely link the Iraq war with al-Qaida -- as he did again Monday in his final State of the Union address. "Let Hillary Clinton insist, as she did in last week's debate, that Obama was praising President Ronald Reagan's conservative policies when she knows perfectly well he was speaking of Reagan's political skills. "We expect little better from Bush these days. We do expect more from Sen. Clinton and her husband, Bill. We know politics is a blood sport for this overachieving couple, and the racial rhetoric and negative campaign tactics they've employed bear this out. "Even those of us who liked the idea of a woman in the White House, even if only because it's time, are now demystified about Clinton. Her attempt to cast Obama as the so-called "black candidate" was crude and evoked racial stereotypes we have all grown tired of. Hillary Clinton's reliance on negative campaigning speaks more of her willingness to stick to the old ways of the Establishment and less of her capacity to foment change." - Chicago Sun-Times' endorsement of Obama, February 1, 2008 And that's just it. Change is the last thing on Hillary Clinton's mind, and I think her as our candidate would be a travesty and a wasted opportunity at a time when we need someone to lead us and inspire us to take responsibility for our country. Clinton inspires me to go back to bed. Posted by Erin at 08:04 AM | | filed under: Political, baby |
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