Karma

Today is the day that the divorce of my ex and she-for-whom-he-left-me will be final. I've probably been thinking about it more than I should, but to some degree it feels like it ends a chapter for me, too. It finally brings to an end the saga that was that whole debacle. And this, my friends, is the last blog post about it.  I hope. 

She and I have reached our own little detente, strangely enough. She apologized to me years ago, and I don't have ill will for her. Besides, there's nothing I could wish for her that's worse than she got from being married to him herself.  And she has the added issue of dealing with him regularly, forever, as they have a child to parent.

But him.  He's a different case. I truly don't believe that he will ever truly understand that what he did to me (or the woman before me, or the woman after me, or all the women DURING me) was wrong, or inappropriate, or hurtful in any way.  When he discovered that I was communicating with his soon-to-be-ex-wife, he was upset and didn't understand why I would talk to her.  He thought I was directing my anger "at the wrong person," namely him, and that I should be angry at her, not him.  He could not comprehend why he and I couldn't be friends, why I couldn't just remember the "good" times, blah blah blah. He just doesn't have the emotional capacity to really get it.  So I'll never get that from him- true understanding or remorse.  But I do have some things I didn't before. 

My newlywed state, coinciding with the impending divorce of my ex, gave me a lot to think about what it all meant to me now. A new definition for marriage and love.  Obviously for me, those words have had wildly varied meanings at different times. With my ex, marriage meant drama and anxiety and fears and walking on eggshells and sacrifice of self (and not in a  good way).  Things I've learned from my own mistakes, and from Fella himself, and from those of you who have been here with me during it all. 

And for learning that, and living it with Fella, I suppose I have my ex to thank.

Attack

So yesterday at yoga, I was not doing too well.  It was super hot (of course) and it seemed extra humid, and I was just not having a good day of it.  Then at one point, I thought I might vomit.  The feeling passed super quickly, actually, but then for some reason I thought that I would really like to leave.  

At Bikram Yoga, they don't lock you in the room, as some people think.  But you are STRONGLY ENCOURAGED to stay in the room.  Literally, maybe only twice as someone left the room during a class I was in.  So you don't leave just because you think you might like to.

And I thought I might like to.

And I knew I shouldn't, I didn't really even have a reason.  But the next thing I knew I was totally anxious about it.  I had an anxiety attack about the fact that I wanted to leave the room! That has never happened before. It was mild, for sure, and it wasn't too difficult to keep it under control, but still.  So, I stayed there, I made it through, I even kept doing the poses.  And at the end when it was over and I COULD leave, I stuck around just a little extra while.  Just to show my anxiety where to stuff it.

Fine.

So P says I need to blog more, and I said that I didn't have anything to really blog about, but I remembered that back in the day when I blogged all the time, I didn't really have much to say then either, I just blogged anyway. So here I go, I'm going to try to blog a few times a week.

Today is Fella's birthday.  He asked for a tie.  Yes, like a NECKTIE.  He is such a grown up it's so weird.  Anyway, he wants a tie, and he shall have a tie. Two actually (Brooks Brothers was having a 50% off sale).  And a bottle of cologne I got a ridiculously good price on (at TJ MAXX), and dinner at Ruth's Chris.  He is a whole 33 years old today.  Yes, in fact, I am a cradle robber. :)

Today's is Merlin's 7th Gotcha Day.  Which means that he came to live with me seven whole years ago.  Time flies, flies, flies.

I haven't written my book yet. The book that I started two and a half years ago, and the one I was going to write when I left Colorado and moved to Charlotte for the summer.  Part of the reason I'm trying to restart the blogging is so that I can get writing again.  Writing ANYTHING.

So... yoga.  When I was going almost every day, my skin was fine, but if I went only here and there it would break out.  As the wedding approached I was busier and busier and wasn't making it on a daily basis, so I quit going altogether so my skin would be clear for the wedding.  And then... I never went back. Until this week.  I went on Monday, which I had to pretty much force myself to do, and I came out of there in the BEST MOOD EVER and I was all bouncy and energetic.  Then I started remembering all the good things about it-- how I quit clenching my jaw, how I was so calm and way less anxious than normal. So I went again on Thursday, and I'll try to go again tomorrow.  And at least three times a week from now on.  And the thing I have to remember is while I don't necessary love doing the class, I LOVE having done the class.  And so I shall.  Unless and until I get knocked up and have to switch to a non-hot yoga class.

Well looky there.  And I thought I had nothing to say...