Then a baby cries...

Okay; it's been over two months and I have no one to blame but my lazy-ass self ("self-deprication", for me, it's a good thing).

I got a job at the hospital, much better than slinging coffee or selling bicycles. I get to do the job I always wanted to do, with some great people, in a great community. I feel fufilled for the first time in a long time.

Craig and I still bitch. Not as much, it would seem. Which is funny since we quit smoking earlier this week. I think I'm just naturally part smoker. Or I've just been around it too much... it seems normal to me. I'm not craving it all the time, just with intensity for 20-30 seconds. I keep reminding myself that the reason for quitting isn't for MY health, but for any future children Craig and I should have.

...Then, just yesterday we heard the big news...

Our neighbours, Tabitha and Michael had their baby three weeks early!!! They came home yesterday after a few days in the Walkerton hospital. Calia is a beautiful teeny-little girl; with her dad's nose and her mom's mouth. I wanted to steal her and run away. It was all I could do to keep from crying. She really is the perfect baby.

Mike is acting like a different human being. He's more relaxed, probably because he's exhausted, but he's chilling out a little. He had me take photos of them at the door. The look like the perfect family.

It's only a matter of time before my biological clock starts to deafen me. The funny thing is I think Craig hears it more than I do! LOL

My point is, life keeps moving here. Not in a rush, not at a standstill. Just like a river, we all roll with it to see where we end up. I'm not scared like I was in Toronto. I make connections with people, people I can trust and respect. And I can hope and have dreams, like a little Calia of my own. Just letting myself have that thought is a step in the right direction.

This is home. I may not be a "lifer" (as they call them in-town), but this is where I'm making my life. And I love it.

oh-me, oh-migrane...

This won't likely be that long since the computer screen is making my eyes want to shrivel up and die. I just had to make a quick post... has anyone else ever been stood up at a job interview? Or am I the only one? I won't go into details but it seems the interviewer was ill and... well, just forgot I was coming in today. That makes me feel important. :-)

Craig and I are still kind of on pins and needles, but he's working today so that's kind of out of sight out of mind right now. I'm starting to think, by the things we fight about and the things he says, that I've been judging this scenario all wrong. I went for a long walk down to my interview and back (hooray for not driving), and had plenty of time alone with my iPod Shuffle to think it out.

Here are some things I think about my 'husband':

1. He loves me.
2. He loves being right almost as much.
3. He wants to make me happy.
4. He is as frustrated with the job front/hunt as I am.
5. He feels I'm unhappy with him.
6. He feels I don't pay attention to him - EVER.
7. He seems to be starting to get the impression I don't even care about him.

Here's what I know about me:

1. I love him to death and wouldn't want to be with anyone else.
2. He makes me happy. Just being near him (when we're not fighting) makes me smile.
3. I appreciate how much he puts himself out for me.
4. I let him be "right" about things I may not agree with, because I can't have discussions without arguments.
5. I TRY to pay attention so much more than I ever have - mostly because due to HIS coercion, my short term memory has suffered. This is a new revelation that really irritates me.
6. I don't show my love for him as often as I should and, being typically female, rely on daily "I love you's".
7. If he really was unhappy with me, I'd let him go in the interests of his happiness. Even though it would likely send me into a pit of despair the likes of which would be unknown to my soul.

I really feel like I should go give him a hug right about now.

I had a dream last night we were characters in the show "Rome". He was Pullo, a legion man who killed for cash, had a love of the ladies and drink, but in the end saved a woman from slavery and married her. I was Vorena the Elder... which makes NO sense since she's only 17 or so on the show. She was bitter, been treated brutally by slave owners and wants her own father dead for his part in her entering into slavery.

...You know, writing it out it starts to makes some sense. I'm with someone who I adore, someone strong, sometimes scary, but on the whole, I recognize him as a good man. I'm feeling, however, as if I can't be close to him because of how hurt he can make me feel. For all his righteousness, strength, protection and love, he can still cause pain - and never even realize it.

Man, now my head REALLY hurts!

45 minutes later...

We're talking again. Since he said I "had no fucking intention of resolving the conflict" (and who would with that entry to resolution), we seem to be back on an even keel. I waited it out and everything seems fine.

Though perhaps this is me just shutting down again.

Frankly, I wasn't upset before he pissed me off. And I'm not incinuating I don't piss him off from time to time, this just happened to be his day. He asked me, "what's eating at you?" as if he was trying to give me some excuse for "not being myself". Honestly, I had a lovely day cleaning and a nice evening with dinner at his parent's place ...and he was the one, who in my eyes, escalated a stupid argument.

Seriously, I'm just TIRED. I don't have the stamina for this crap anymore. That's why I don't date!

Read Away...

So another spat this evening. Am I surprised? Not really. That's part of life with one person... but it does keep things interesting.

This space is mine. It is the ONE place I can honestly say anything... to what I thought were the anonymous masses. And yet, this is what makes me the bad guy. God forbid I be unhappy, if even for a moment. To express how I feel to... let's see... my Mom, Jesse Steinman and my in-laws (and perhaps some from my family whom I'm not aware of)... no, that's just too much.

NO ONE will take this from me.

Do people really think we're all perfect? I hope not. Every long term relationship I know has dips and doodles. It never changes. That's just part of the sacrifice. It's the stress you accept for having something that wonderful in your life.

What's eating me tonight is, when we fight, if I don't react to provocation, I'm being pretentious; if I do react, I'm making the argument about me, my stress, and not considering his own.

I'm done getting angry. I'm tired of yelling and being defensive. My heart is pounding and I'm upset. I'm hurt and I'm a little... pained in the chest. It doesn't change the fact I love him to death. Doesn't change the fact that I'll be here tomorrow, and the day after. Doesn't change anything about what makes us, "us".

It just hurts.

He loves me, but he also has a god complex. From what I've said before, some of the things I assumed he thought, were in fact, true. Even though I re-wrote history against myself. Based on the fight tonight, I am always wrong. I don't pay attention. I'm a "fucking pretentious bitch". Hey, I called him "an assumptive arse" so we may as well call that one even.

I swore on my life in certainty and he told me to "stick a gun in my mouth". My retort of, "and make life that easy on you, I don't think so" was not taken as lightly as intended.

All I know is the openly broken girl is feeling mighty broken right now. And while I know it won't be for long, it doesn't make this ridiculous argument (over an Indiana Jones movie trailor) go away. I don't know what it'll take this time.

What I do know is my prodding with his parents didn't go over as I thought it might. Poking him while saying things like "yes, my lovely mother", to a request to help with dishes was taken as me "ganging up" on him with his family.

I think he forgets I'm in a new place. Meeting these family members for the first few times. Trying to impress everyone I meet because I can't seem to get the right job and netwokring is everything. Trying to feel confident when I'm anything but. I feel like I'm a million miles away from the person I feel closest to. Once again I'm left at the end of a journal entry asking myself, "what do I do?"

a little home movie...

When it rains...

Well, we made it back to Kincardine just in time for another bout of rainy weather. I thought APRIL showers bring May flowers... alas, they just brought more rain. :-) No matter, we have some shopping to do so it won't really alter our plans for the day.

Upon our return I had two interviews to set up. Canadian Tire and Books and Beans wanted to meet me. I had to make two phone calls but was up at 6:30 so I spent a couple of hours this morning having coffee and enjoying the birds in the backyard - when the phone rang.

Kincardine hospital is looking for administrative assistants! I had submitted my resume through both the Kincardine physician recruiter and the Walkterton HR department for South Bruce Grey Health Centre. Finally it looks like I have a decent chance at staying within my field! This couldn't be more perfect!

So in the next week I have 3 interviews. At least I can feel like we have a shot now. Craig's jobs at the LCBO and Bruce Inn will keept him busy but at least if I can work part time we can be a bit more comfortable. Hooray! Finally we can get our foundations laid.

Also, while in Toronto we had an adjournment of our stupid cases with the Landlord Tenant Board. We'll have to return to Toronto one more time to deal with this garbage. It's so frustrating, it's just not worth the time it takes... I just want them to stop screwing their tenants. We also managed to get in a couple of hours of chill time with Jesse before leaving the city... and I can now comfortably call him an old friend.

It looks like I'll be trying to come back for the family garage sale. It's finally time to hand over "Happy Manor" (my grandparent's home) to the next family. There's still a lot of stuff to go, though and the date is just another headache - my birthday. A day which was never really great for me. Father's Day brings up memories of my father, I rarely even have a birthday party and now the last hurrah for the old homestead. Whoopee, as they say. At least my cousins will be there. Somehow, younger people make things better.

Toronto is an okay place to visit, but I guess it just wasn't meant for me. I'm happy to call this small town home from now on.

Conall was in good spirits when we picked him up from the Rigdens place last night.

Happy days are here again

I won't say too much about the past few days. What I will say is that talking, albeit painful and sometimes difficult, is the best way to air frustrations.

Yes, I knew this before we fought. Yes, I've always been told this by self-help books and psychologists alike. Yes, even my fiance tried to get me to open up before the explosion... but I was fighting back with silence. I often trip up my words when engaged in a quarrel... with family, friends, peers or Craig. I suppose this is one of the reasons writing has always come so easily.

We sat and 'talked', occasionally yelling. And by the end, he understood me a little more, and I understood him. He doesn't hate me. Quite the opposite. He wants to make sure we're taken care of and secure.

How can a girl argue with that?

To be or not to be... what, exactly?

I can stand up for myself, and be seen as a pushy, controlling ... you know, or say nothing and be accused of silent treatment and rudeness. Even excusing myself to have a cigarette after an argument (while he's trying to eat no less) is unacceptable somehow.

And so it begins. Feeling dead inside again. Pen up those emotions so they don't make him mad. Say just enough that he knows I'm listening. Pray that the cats behave - because I'll be blamed. Even though he's lived with them for over a year and a half. It's my fault. They're MINE, after all.

What did I do? Where did I go wrong? Why does he act like he hates me?

How do I fix this?! *smacks head*

I told myself cooler heads may prevail... that the tension was temporary... but it turns out he's the same as I was with my mother... he spends time with his folks and comes home angry at me... I'm not driven enough, I'm not trying hard enough, I'm not meeting people, I'm not doing enough...

God knows this move can't have been a mistake. I love the atmosphere here, the space, the wildlife, the sunscapes, the opportunity. Dear Abby... please help. I'm happier here on the whole... now if I could just be happy at home.

I feel like he's given up on me... and I don't know if there's ANYTHING I can do to change that.

Life Happens

Have you ever tried to apologize for something and it all comes out so screwed people think you're worse than when you started? Welcome to my day.

I couldn't fix the couch the way he liked. That's how this all started. Right now I'm ready to run my fist through a wall... had I not tried that only 2 months ago. Hurts a lot more than the emotional pain.

Then he said something and while I heard him, I didn't respond. I was edgy from the way he'd reacted over the couch, and the comment was about a show I was watching on TV... a statement I agreed with. I didn't realize that this silent treatment was the same as the ones he has already complained about.

I hate conflict; I'd do anything to avoid it. Instead I ended up accidentally instigating myself into a black hole.

I wrote an apology for my part and went for a walk.

"I am tired.
I am sorry that I'm so inconsiderate.
I am sick of feeling like my brain is defective. (add-in: does God take returns?)
I am irritated that you're always right.
I hate that my feeling inadequate makes you get down on yourself.
I don't hate you, just your attitude sometimes.
I don't look down on you or ride a high horse,
those times you've said I have, have been times I felt the lowest.

"I love you.
You're everything to me.
You hold me when I cry, give direction when I have none.
You love me when it seems like no one else will.
You make me want to be better than I am. (add-in: or hope to be)

"You have all of my apologies and all of my pride.
Neither of us are perfect, but I still think we're perfect for each other.
Even now."

I came back afterwards to more of the same BS. We yelled. I excused myself from a trip to help his parents. We yelled more. I sat. I cried more.

Some of the things I had blurted out may have been more than just angry ranting. I am a depressed person. Not all the time, not to the point of instability anymore, but I do feel like garbage compared to my excelling fiance. Some of my ramblings included quips like:

"You're always right... You can find hard evidence for any argument we get into... I can't remember anything... We fight over the same things because of my inability to rationally deal with conflict... When we fight your always think I'm trying to make you the bad guy... Do you think I like it that I ignore you without realizing it? That I make the man I love feel like crap? It kills me..."

Perhaps I'm no better than the school-yard bully. Maybe I'm so mired down with my own feelings of stupidity, worthlessness and self-loathing that I transfer those feelings onto Craig. I assume he feels all those things for me, and when he gets angry, it validates those feelings.

He thinks I'm stupid, unattractive, unworthy of him. Who could blame him.

Oh... okay, none of that's TRUE... but it all seems to add up. And throw on to that the mean things that get said during any lover's quarrel and it's a recipe for emotional turmoil. And then his yet un-apologized quote from last weeks tiff rings through my ears:

"You're just like your mother. The sad part is, you don't see it."

And then I get angry again. More crying.

The tears dry.

I catch my breath.

I realize he may be right, although that doesn't excuse the way or intent that came with the way he said it. Hurting the one you love is NEVER okay. But if the hurt wasn't intentional, if it can be worked through and made right, then it can make you stronger.

I just hate the waiting in between. I guess it's a down day, today. But that's a-okay. Life happens.

Things are coming along!

Well, more resumes made their way into employers hands and the house has been cleaned. With the major chores out of the way (and a local interview under my belt), we took Conall to Station Beach to learn how to have fun in the water. Set to Pete Townsend's, "Let My Love Open The Door" it was an adorable kodak moment!

home sweet, sweet home.

If you can reach Nirvana...

I am in heaven here.

Granted, I'm not working yet so life is pretty stress free, but am I ever at home in this small town.

I don't have tones of time to write as we are getting the 'net next week, but in the meantime, know I made it here, I'm happier than ever and the pets are thrilled to have so much room to run around.

This is where I'm meant to be. I think it may be genetic.

Life here is honest. I love it.

We're packing up and moving on!

Well we're getting ready to pack up the Uhaul and load our things for the big journey. No more being crushed on the TTC, no more being hit by said Transit vehicles, no more stress from our slum lords or stepping in dog crap in our hallway. No more. We're cashing in and getting out.

I can't wait to see how the next few days will go. I'm sure they'll be stress, maybe even name calling. But 3 bedrooms and a yard is a wonderful bonus. Get me outta here! Let's blow this popcicle stand!

It's all so bizarre!

Most of my worldly possessions are in boxes. Craig and I are preparing for Tuesday's move ahead of schedule, since we'll be picking up the moving truck a day ahead of time.

For the past few days we've split our time between hanging out watching documentaries, arguing over the state of Tibet on Facebook and rooting through our things, sorting the movable from the trash.

I gave my old, "fat" clothes to the Value Village and gave my fish to a 10 year old girl. I've thrown out 4 garbage bags of things from my past that aren't necessary for me to have anymore. The things I've kept have been sorted and packed into labelled boxes - just so they'll be easier to relocate.

Our poor pets think the world is coming to an end. Little do they know they're making the long journey with us!

Our friends are throwing a BBQ to say goodbye. Proof that while I may be over this city, it's home to people I'll miss dearly.

I love all the opportunity that the next few days hold. The excitement of a new chapter begining. The start of something big. It's daunting and even little frightening, but it'll be worth it in the end.

ArrivaderLa!

Things are coming along... :-) FINALLY!

Welcome to my house... Okay, it's Max Rybinski's house... but we rent it! :-)

Oh, happy day! Kincardine, here I come!!!

Okay it's been a while... again...

See, here's the thing, moving last minute is hard.

Not to mention I've been approached to model for a friend's clothing line, our dog is getting neutered in two days, I just gave away two gold fish I had for 4 years, we're trying to close a deal on a three-bedroom townhome and of course there's the normal headaches that come with packing all of your belongings and throwing others out (or in my case giving them to charity).

We've bought a bike, I'm days away from going to get my G1 and the house has turned into a pig sty.

I can't wait to blow this popcicle stand. I'm so over this city.

...nor can I wait to know what my new address is going to be... this is killing me!

All I can say...

Out with a whimper.

So today mom came by with a cheque for us. Things from my grandmother's house were there and she had the cheque in hand. Everything seemed like it might be okay. Like we could meet quickly, in passing, like fish in a pond.

But the second the money went into my hand, she started in on the same old song. I said it wasn't the time for talking about that, I was just trying to be in her presence and get through it. But we kept talking, and she kept pressing, and she left with the last word like everytime before, "Tell Craig, 'I'm being a parent'". It's these quips that say otherwise.

The need to constantly defend.

That's why I can only write angry letters and beg only when I'm at my most desperate and vulnerable... because any attempt to 'just talk' gets spun around. I can't come to her in confidence, I can't be open about anything in my life.

Everything she knows of me is a lie I kept on to keep her happy. And she only today realized how hard I worked to keep it on for so long.

I REALLY don't know what's going to happen now. I don't hate her anymore. I pity her.

Swallowing Pride...

Dear Mom,

I won’t touch our old issues now, they’re not as important as you knowing how I’m doing.

If you want a chance to help me better my life for the positive, here it is:

Attached are the letters of complaint we have filed over and over with our building (just so you know it’s not all “Megan being overly dramatic”). We have been treated so badly, I’ve come to see the only way you can be treated well in this city is if you’re rich. ...And I don’t want to be rich, nor wealthy. But I’m trying desperately to be happy. And how close we are...

Aside from the threats on our personal safety, having to call the cops on other tenants and having no proper fire protection or functioning heater all winter, Craig and I are wonderfully happy together. I don’t know how I would have survived the past few months without him. We have wonderful friends in the area, too.

I now have a job that pays the bills, Craig is on E.I. with a broken hand and we’re making it day by day. Conall is healthy and well. The cats are still enjoying the space here. Life and my heart are in good stead, but my soul is being crushed in this city. I’ve been saying I wanted out for a long time, before I even met Craig if you’ll recall – and I know you remember the family laughed at me for it... so I’m really hoping you won’t do that now.

We are now nearing desperate to leave this city for Kincardine. Craig’s parents don’t seem to like the idea too much, but Craig is looking to work at the Power Plant and I have been submitting resumes with their doctors (they’ve been recruiting to the area), dentists and vets.

The obvious issue is we can’t do it on our budget and with the building’s holding company treating us like we’re the problem, my home has become a place that makes me feel worse, rather than better. It’s not a safe haven, it’s a lobster trap. It’s undoing all the good I’ve done with Dr. Madigan so far.

I’ve been taking more sedatives than I should, practically dependant on them just to be able to be calm enough to focus on watching TV (mostly due to the tenant who threatened us). I’m learning how to use the Bokken (think: big long stick) in self defence. It’s been great for my confidence, but I would’ve rather learned under less stressful circumstances.

I’m sure you can imagine how degraded I feel begging you for help when I’ve been so cold for so long. But I also can’t condone Craig taking money from his parents off their line of credit when they’re still paying off their 2nd mortgage and putting Paul through University... all of this off their pensions.

Since the “formal” wedding has been indefinitely scrapped, I’m asking you for a portion of the money you offered to us to help us start a real home life together in a place where we can be safe and start our family together - NO I’M NOT PREGNANT, SO DON’T PANIC!

It kills me that this is my first non-angry letter to you, but I guess I’m holding up faith that the Mom instinct in you is still there. I couldn’t blame you if you say no or ignore me entirely, but after our lives together, I’m hoping you can accept that I have to cut my own path in life, and right now, I need your help to clear some of the clutter away.

If you choose to write or call me back, I’m not the same person I was when we last spoke. I won’t lie to you about things you don’t want to hear and I won’t hide who I am anymore for the sake of appearances. Ignorance isn’t bliss when it comes to the people we love.

I love the woman I am now; I just hope you can love her, too.

Although it’s against my better judgement to say anything, while I’ve made lots of positive progress without you in my life these past few months, it’s also been some of the most painful times of my life. To turn my back on someone who I couldn’t breathe a bad word about a year ago was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. ...Perhaps with the exception of having to write this.

I’ll be waiting for word from you, whatever it is. Just like it’s my life, it’s also your money to do with as you will. All I can do is ask.

Now with a heavy heart,
Megs.

Just when you think you're out...

Canadian Tire sends you a $100 gift certificate for trying to use their gift registry. What a happy little surprise!

It all went to Conall's belated birthday gifts (see my you tube account, bottom right), but at a year old and over 100lbs, our big boy deserved some spoiling.

The new food he's on has worked wonders for his tummy, too. Let's just say cleaning up is a lot easier than it once was.

Our baby is growing up!