Monday, October 22, 2012

The best and the worst of humanity

Quick administrative matter. I'm so sorry I have the captchas on. I hate them, too. But the spam comments were OUT OF CONTROL. I'll turn it off in a week or so, once the spammers give up.


In my line of work, I see a lot of unsavory characters. Today's star was a heroin-addicted woman who's probably 25 or 26. She admits to using the drug daily and showed up to court today very obviously on something. Oh, and she's 5.5 months pregnant. Not surprisingly, heroin use isn't particularly good for a developing fetus. My heart hurt for her unborn baby, her older child that she has nothing to do with, her mother who has to handle some of the fall out of her habit, and, even a little bit, for this girl whose life is probably light years away from any dreams she had as a child.

But from that, I also got to see some awesome humanity. The prosecutor on her case - a person whose job generally requires "justice" be done above all else - did research on way to get this woman to a facility who can medically detox her and her baby so they both don't die in the process. The issue became when no one wanted to take her because of the major liability. A coworker who handles most of our criminal stuff took on the responsibility of finding this woman somewhere to do, and finally found a hospital several hours away. There were other involved, too. It was awesome to see people go above and beyond in their jobs to try to save an unborn baby, and, indirectly, the baby's mom.

No kid should have to be born addicted to heroin. Hopefully everyone's actions today will fix that problem for one kid.

Sunday, October 21, 2012

The state of our union

It's our sixth anniversary. I didn't mention it because, well, I just don't care too much this year. Now that the day is over, I think the way it all played out is very telling about the state of things with B and me.

For this to make sense, you need a little background. Growing up, events were a big deal. Birthdays, anniversaries, Mother's Day, whatever. They meant something and required some sort of celebration. As a result, taking notice of events has become important to me. I don't require elaborate celebrations, but a card or a small gift or a thoughtful act showing that you remembered the event makes me feel loved and happy. Yes, it's stupid, but gift giving is one of my love languages. What are you going to do?

B's family was just about the polar opposite of mine. Events were just another day. No one made a big deal out of your birthday, and it didn't matter if you got a card or present or (most likely) nothing at all. He couldn't care less if you remembered an event, and he doesn't see why anyone should care about celebrating.

B and I have known these facts about each other for many, many years. Regardless, we keep treating the other the way we would like to be treated. Every year for our anniversary and his birthday, even when we're completely broke, I do SOMETHING to commemorate the day (it usually entails getting him a card and a box of Ding Dongs, a favorite snack that he rarely gets). He on the other hand, will generally wish me a happy anniversary or birthday and leave it at that. No card, no present, no date, nothing.

This year, however, was very different. This year, he made an effort and I didn't bother.

B was out of town this weekend at a wedding. He got home after dinner, and had a card, three roses, and a bottle of champagne with him.* I didn't get him anything. And I didn't feel badly about it.

It surprises me how much our roles have changed in the past year. A year ago, I felt like I was the one trying to make our marriage continue to work. This year, I've more or less given up. There's a gigantic elephant of an issue wedged firmly between us, and it's not something that I can do anything to fix. I've done what I could and I continue to work on fixing me - you know, the thing that I can fix. Now it's his turn to do some fixing, but he doesn't seem to be ready for that yet. I'm not sure if the problem is that he doesn't see the elephant, or if he thinks the elephant is really a mouse, but there's something stopping him from taking the steps he needs to take for us to keep this marriage viable.

The impromptu, late evening anniversary celebration made me sad. I was so grateful for the effort and the fact that he took my feelings and needs into consideration. But it hurts my heart to know that efforts like these are ill-fitting bandages that won't really do any good long term. It was a fantastic way to reflect on the day we vowed to love each other now and forever.

Huh. Looks like I kinda went and wrote about my Thing after all. Yay for over-sharing and catharsis!

* Because I'm trying to be more grateful in my life, I'm glossing over the facts that the roses were from the grocery store (it wasn't a gas station!), the card didn't include a note and wasn't even signed (but the card's sentiment was sweet!), and he sprayed me in the face with frozen champagne even after I suggested it might be a good idea to open the bottle in the kitchen (but now I've experienced champagne slushy! And it was yummy!)

Friday, October 19, 2012

Hello again

I've noticed a trend among blogs in my reader lately. Several of the writers have had fairly long periods of low posting, followed by a confession of a Thing that has kept them from posting because the Thing - and being unable to write about it - has sapped their will to blog.

I think that's what's happened to me, too. (Either that, or I'm horribly, irredeemably suggestible.) You see, I have a Thing. Unfortunately for me, it's not really fit for public consumption at this point. It needs to stay between me, my therapist, and the other(s) involved.

And it's sort of killing me.

I process by writing. I can process by talking - and will do it on occasion - but I'm generally too uncomfortable to open up to even my closest friends about shit going on in my life. It all relates back to my childhood and my fear of vulnerability and blah, blah, blah. I'm aware of the problem and I'm working on it. But until I get that figured out, I need to write. Journals have never done it for me. Something about the pen-to-paper set-up doesn't work. Typing - spilling my heart into the abyss hidden within my computer - does work for me. The problem manifested itself when I lost easy, non-work access to typing around the same time that I developed the Thing. It created a bit of a perfect storm of blog silence.

What I'm attempting to say is I'm trying. I'm trying to make myself fill these pages more often. I'm not succeeding, but I'm trying. Many of my brain-composed blog posts relate to the Thing, so they can't actually be written and published. Since I can't write about what's on my heart, I choose not to write at all. I've recently made some realizations about the Thing and what I need to do to fix it, which I'm hoping will help me get my voice back. Until then, I'll keep trying.

But, if I were you, I wouldn't hold my breath waiting for the next installment.