Tuesday, October 8, 2013

Technophobia

"You're way over me, I can't even see how, someday I'll need you the way you don't need me now."

Technology Day was a great success. We came home with a 47 inch Sony Bravia, a Tivo, even a new land line phone. We had breakfast at Cracker Barrel, even picked up some groceries at Target while we were there buying a baby gift for a friend.

Technology Installation Day was a total disaster.

Neil worked all weekend, while I did a bead show. It was fun and exhausting. Spending seven straight hours, two days in a row, interacting with customers is tough for this introvert.

I sold a lot of beads, including both of my bead challenge sets. Here is a picture of the second one.


Considering that they are inconsistently sized and are still strung in the order I made them, I'm quite happy with the sales. They were made as a creativity challenge. Getting a little money for them is just gravy.

I have another show at the end of the month and I've already started a new set. I'm hoping to have two, maybe three done. They are fun to make, no two beads alike, just three colors, all dots, all melted flush.

Sunday night we celebrated Neil's birthday, early, since we will be visiting the butterbean on his real birthday, with his kids and son-in-law. Afterwards we came back to the house for cake, baked by Neil's daughter. That's when Neil and the kids tackled the TV and DVR setup.

You'd think with three hip twenty-somethings, setting up a TV and DVR would be a breeze.

Apparently not so.

After a couple of stressful hours of getting nowhere fast, they gave it up. Neil even hooked up our old TV which is sitting on the floor.

It has something to do with our wireless signal, or possibly our router, or the way the cable comes into the house. Or maybe we're just technologically challenged.

I'd be happy to just apply money to find a solution, if I just knew who to call to come over and make it all work.

But now it's a point of pride and Neil is going to figure it out.

Sometime.

Probably not this week.

Possibly not anytime soon.

There just isn't enough time.

Work is eating his dinner and he has softball on Wednesday and Thursday nights and then we are off to Keller for the weekend.

I'd try it myself, starting with a new router, but there's the change I could knock out our whole internet connection, and that would not make anyone any happier.

In the meantime, there are plenty of other things to do besides watch tube. Neil feels the loss way more than I do.

I made beads this morning, walked on the treadmill this afternoon, watched another episode of Prime Suspect on my iPad. Tomorrow morning I am going to work at the animal shelter. It's been a week and I can't wait to see my cats, see who's new and who's still there, and spoil the lot of them.

And the heat has broken a bit, which is always a wonderful thing. It's not really cool yet. I'm still torching in a t-shirt and cotton skirt and not much else except for my Birks. But the change in the air promises that fall really is coming and we've survived one more blistering Texas summer.

November 2001 was a lot like October 2001. Which was a lot like September 2001 and August 2001. Just cooler and darker.

I was still fighting my demons.

In case you are wondering how much longer this story goes on, the answer is another year, more or less. Luckily it won't take nearly that long to tell it.

I'm not sure I'm able to convey the relentless bleakness I experienced that fall of 2001. Perhaps it can never be expressed in words. You had to be there - but be grateful that you weren't!

I was desperate for relief, tired of the endless effort to hide the cloud I was living under from almost everyone in my life.

There were days when I thought I was gaining ground, moving though the stages of grief. I wrote this to my mom.
At least I am no longer grieving for Marty. I have finally reached the anger stage. I am so angry that a human being could do this to another human being. I think about the things he said, and I want to scream lies, lies, lies.

For a long time I defended him and didn't blame him for my depression, but now I do. I am lonely but I feel unable to relate to other men. I know its OK not to date or try to build another relationship right now, but I'm frustrated that I'm getting older every day while waiting to get better.
I had better days followed by bad days, which was disappointing and frustrating. One day I'd think, I am over Marty, and the next day all the heartache would come back in living color.

Despite the pain, I knew this was a first world problem
All along, I am consciously aware of my many blessings. So many people have a tougher row to hoe, I have healthy, good kids, people who care about me, a good job and my own health (other than depression - which is better than having cancer or some other grim disease or permanent medical condition).

I'm just impatient to be well so there is even a chance for me to move forward with my life and be able to draw the love that I need so badly. But I have to heal from the inside out, not use another person to put a bandaid over the still oozing wound in my heart.

I look back and think, I have made so many mistakes - even that this illness is a punishment - but then I try to remind myself that I also have done many things right. The past is what it is, no one is perfect. But I seem to need constant validation that it is OK to be imperfect and that I am still lovable.
I had this crazy idea that there was a subliminal connection between us, that he hadn't forgotten me. I believed that whether or not we ever had contact again, the pull would remain at some psychic level, yet I knew that it would diminish over time.

Time passed slowly.
One day he will be sorry. He'll never find anyone as good for him as me.

But it has nothing to do with me.
I went to visit my mom and dad the week before Thanksgiving. My kids stayed with their dad. I flew home the day after Thanksgiving and my older daughter met my plane. She dropped me at the house and went back to her dad's for a football party.

I reached a new level of loneliness.

Thomas came over to help me fix a plumbing leak in my bathroom. We'd never quite patched up our friendship and I knew this would probably be the last time I saw him.

But that was OK. I already had his replacement waiting in the wings.

Enter Mark.


"Holding on, safely to fall
Like there's no tomorrow forsaking it all
Bound and determined to share all of our days
Loving and learning our special ways

That I'm holding on to, and you've been letting go
And wherever you've gone to, I'm so far below
You're way over me, I can't even see how
Someday I'll need you the way you don't need me now

And you don't need me now, like you needed me then
And I'm wondering how I'll be feeling when
I'm way over you, I can't even see how
Someday I'll need you the way you don't need me now.

Clint Black


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