Pain

Fast Pitch

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 1 Comment

IMG_9513 (1)

Well the condo is looking pretty good these days…wish I could say the same about myself.

It all started when I was on a ladder in the shower painting (a lovely shade of very pale gray, if I do say so myself.) Because laziness is a basic necessity while painting; I tend to stretch and paint rather than go up and down the ladder creating unnecessary stress on my knees. It would appear at my age that this type of thinking is a big mistake. For as I was reaching far further than the span of my wings; I fell backwards off the ladder and as I did, my armpit went over the door frame to the shower, while my body went forward. Ouch! Okay, it felt worse than ouch it was more like OUCH!

All week my shoulder and arm hurt but I kept thinking it would feel better soon. The next weekend I decided to be playful and tried to wrestle my husband on the beach. He promptly flipped me over like a grill master with a hamburger and as he did he accidently pushed down on my shoulder. OUCH!

And so for the past two months I have been in pain. Pain sleeping, when putting on my seatbelt, when reaching up, etc. Constant unrelenting pain that I have grinned and bared with grace.

Finally, I decided to go to the doctor who promptly sent me for an MRI which confirmed that I had a slap tear to my bicep. This would be fine except for the fact there is nothing that they can do but surgery in which they cut the bicep in the back, place a screw in your shoulder and re-attach the muscle into the screw. If you choose not to do the surgery, eventually that tear starts fraying and ” sawing” into other areas in the vicinity creating even worse damage resulting in a more comprehensive surgery with even more down time. As it is I will be in a sling for 4-6 weeks as this muscle kind of grows into the screw.

Surgery is set for November. The same weekend B and I were to go away together. Instead, I will be snoozing, with the help of some pain pills, in bed by myself. Another weekend shot. But I am okay with that because I am “re-inventing” myself and plan on telling everyone that the injury was due to my incredible 100 mile-per-hour fastball pitch which sounds much more impressive than falling off a ladder.  Even better, I will be stronger both mentally and eventually physically after mending and maybe this ole’ dog might even be able to learn some new tricks!

Life is good even when its not!

Roadblocks-10 Minute Poem Challenge

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / Leave a comment

images-6

Sometimes I think

You should be wearing

A florescent orange vest

And hardhat to protect

Your thick head

As you direct our relationship

Through all the roadblocks that you set up

images-5

Your boulders of anger

Stopping the natural flow

Of traffic as we make our way

To the end of the road

download

You hold up warnings

Reading: DO NOT ENTER

That push me further beyond

Our agreed upon destination

Creating detours away from

Intimacy, connection, and deep love

Leaving me traveling on an empty road

Towards a dead end

Out in the middle of nowhere

Where I can neither go forward

Nor turnaround

 

download-5

 

Sometimes I think

You channel

Muhammad Ali

As you bob and weave

Dancing across my heart

Yet coming nowhere near it

Your left hook throwing me back

Against the ropes

Flattened and dazed

Seeing stars and two of you

One, kind and gentle

The other, a brut

Intent on winning

This fight

At all costs

Numb to the pain

That you have caused

And you tease and jab

As I wait for you

To deliver

Your knockout blow

 

Other times I wonder

If you are really a mason

Placing brick on top of brick

Day after day

Building a wall

 

With a hidden gate

That keeps me out

But lets others into

Your inner sanctum

And lets them experience

Your deepest feelings

That you have walled off

From me

But leave you

Standing alone inside

Of your fortress

7510-1-1453178716

And me standing on the other side

Of those immense walls

Of Yours

We both know that

You view me

As the Big Bad Wolf

Huffing and puffing

Until I leap over the wall

Only to be burnt

By the fire in your soul

And your repressed

Anger towards me

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Middle Age Sweat

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 7 Comments

images

In the past six weeks I joined a gym and while exercising is not at the top of my “fun things to do” list, it is slowly getting bearable. I try to do at least two miles on the elliptical and then at least a 1/2 hour of weights five days a week. I also hired a personal trainer who I meet with once a week to give me ideas of new things to try with my various medical issues that make exercising a little more challenging. And while I have lost a bit of body fat already I have to confess that this exercise thing is really not my cup of tea. Why? Because of sweat.

I HATE sweat. For most of my life my body has refused to sweat no matter how hard I worked it and frankly; I liked that. IMHO, sweaty people are gross. While B would have sweat pouring down his face and dripping in his eyes during the most mundane of household projects; I would look and smell like I had just stepped out of the shower. But not any more. Recently I have discovered that with old age comes sweat. Not the menopausal “TURN DOWN THE AIR CONDITIONING” kind of sweat but the honest to goodness stinky sweat that antiperspirant companies make a mint off of. Frankly, I hate it. These days doing two miles on elliptical makes my hair sweat and my eyelashes too. YUCK! To me that water is far worse than exploding diarrhea oozing out of a baby’s diaper!

These days when this nearing 60 body works out; I look like a linebacker with sweat under my arms, dribbling down my back, and sloshing between my boobs. When I sit on the seat of the quad weight machine, a sweat line from my butt appears with two flabby cheek imprints on said seat, which requires me to have to position myself in such a way that allows me to quickly grab the disinfectant to spray down the seat before anyone notices. I almost killed myself doing this maneuver several times and today I almost took out a line of jazzercisers who were prancing around near by. For me, avoiding sweat at all costs is almost as dangerous as raising my heart rate to my target zone.

I don’t see what is so special about sweat. I know a lot of men who equate sweat as akin to having sex…it is something to strive for at all costs. Yet, I have always avoided it to the point of refusing to watch those movie love scenes where the bed sheets end up looking like a swimming pool. I mean, who wants to slide around on someone else’s recently released bodily toxins anyway? Not me. And further, since the government always wants to get into our business, shouldn’t OSHA have some sort of fact sheet posted in all bedrooms so consumers know what environmental hazards we are being exposed to when sweaty skin to skin contact occurs? Shouldn’t the EPA be instructing us whether to use bleach or plain old soap after being sweat contaminated?

As you can tell, sweat is a subject that gets me all hot and bothered. It also almost deters me from grunting, running, and lifting on a daily basis. But I have hope that I can cure this aversion because today when I was gyming; I met a sweaty woman who has lost over 100 pounds. Her story was inspiring and awesome. And as the sweat soaked through her bra and down her back as she was telling me about how she lost that weight she said, “it’s no sweat off my back to come in and work out everyday. It’s really just fat off my middle.”

“Wow,” I thought. “What a strong and amazing woman…such a great attitude. She really has it all together.”

And then she stuck out her hand to shake mine. I swear that I almost broke out in a sweat at the thought of her sweaty palm touching mine.

“Oh what the hell,” I admonished myself. “Time to stop sweating the small stuff.”

And with that, I stuck out my hand and clasped hers in mine, upon which which we both quickly wiped our hands on our towels and started laughing at the near mirror images of distaste written all over our faces .

“I hate sweat,” she said.

“Me too,” I answered.

And as I walked away, I decided if she could get over her distaste for sweat enough to lose 100 pounds then I could push myself a little harder in the days and weeks to come… right after I get some antiperspirant that I can rub all over my body to minimize all that pent up middle age sweat!

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m Depressed

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 6 Comments

download

I’m depressed. There. I said it. I’m depressed.

Frankly, it worries me as I have never allowed myself to go there. With so many people depending on me and a sister who spent time in a mental hospital; I have never before let myself plumb the depths of the despair I am feeling. However, now I am trying to give myself permission. Permission to explore what is on the other side of two years of marriage chaos and confusion. Permission to grieve for dreams that have been pushed aside by reality and for children who struggle due to the challenges of autism. Permission to just feel what I need to feel, even if it hurts. And permission to feel those deep rooted emotions and to not intellectualize my feelings as all the intellectualizing I do just makes me hurt worse.

I will confess this intense feeling of sadness scares me to my core. Not because I am afraid to feel those lows but because when you have had a family member who has experienced hospitalization due to her mental health issues and you have spent years dealing with hers…well, I just don’t want to put my family into that vat of pain and helplessness you can’t help but feel when surrounded with all of that. Yet, my therapist said to me that I have the skill set to survive if not thrive while looking at those things that make me uncomfortable and sad. And after reading Thomas Moore’s The Dark Night Of The Soul I know that there is plenty to be gained by going there for a brief respite. But still, I hesitate, my feet in cement for fear of going in too far or deep. For fear of becoming like my sister. Of letting people down.  Of not “performing” the requirements that are expected in this one act play that I am living.

I know I need to take a look at what is coming up from the depths of my soul. I know that I need to allow myself to feel these intense feelings. I suspect that it is similar to drilling for oil while trying to contain the amount that surfaces at one time. And its also acknowledging  that what comes up will have to be refined in different ways depending on how it will be used. And I acknowledge that any spills that occur will give me new skills to better contain the overflow the next time.

If I had my way I would stay in bed for a week and pull the covers over my head. I would play every sad song I have ever heard and have a Bailey’s on the rocks sitting on my bed stand sipping it over several hours. Oh hell, maybe I would guzzle it instead. That is what I wanted to do today. BUT…I had to make breakfast and lunch for everyone, take them to school, take a kid to the doctor and another to get her allergy shots. I had to wait for the dryer repairman, do the dishes, and mop the floor. I had to pay bills, get the oil changed and attend a meeting. Tomorrow it is more of the same.

So, here I sit, one toe half in and half out of this deep sadness. This depression. Perhaps if I am brave enough I will step on in and let it take me where I need to go.  To places I have never visited but probably should. Only afterwards will I understand that there are things to be gained from examining things below the surface. And who knows…I may just strike the motherlode while I am exploring with the sheets making the perfect tent in which to hide away from the world.

images

 

Plan C

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 10 Comments

download-4

The night before last B texted me:

Maybe we can do something tonight

I have to confess that my anxiety went through the roof and the acid reflux started immediately

My response:

“Are you wanting to have a serious talk? My stomach just dropped.”

“Sorry,” he replied.  “No, I just wanted to have a little fun.”

 

And we did. We had a nice evening full of laughs and kind words. An evening that reminded me of all that I love about this man BUT…I am tired. I am tired of wondering if he isn’t going to walk through our door. Tired of wondering if he wants to talk of divorce. Tired of all the stress of living with a menopausal man.

For these reasons and more, I have to confess, that I have begun looking at a Plan C for myself in the event of a divorce or “whatever.” Several ideas have come to me during the past several months as I contemplate a future without B. I will say unequivicably that it scares me…the thought of giving up on a 30year + marriage… but…it also excites me at the same time as it gives me something to believe in again.  Because at last I am beginning to make myself and my feelings a priority instead of putting B’s ahead of my own in an attempt to win him back. For B’s wishy-washiness about our life together has recently become exhausting and it sometimes it feels like I am selling my soul in order to keep reaching for something that B is making unobtainable. Finally, I am beginning to understand that I can never win this love game and I am ever so slowly beginning to admit defeat. So while it breaks my heart arriving at this place of giving up and giving in; it feels more honest and courageous than living in denial.

For the past several weeks I have debated telling B about PLAN C but last night I decided that I should be honest and put some more of my cards on the table. I began by telling him that I believe him now…that while I used to want him to change his mind about me and our relationship, that, in fact, I owe it to myself and him to believe his words. Words such as: “I don’t love you or have the passion for you to sustain a relationship” or “I love you but not in the way that I want to” or “I want a separation.” At some point, you have to take those words at face value and I am beginning to. I can no longer just wish them away. I can no longer pretend that they mean something other than what he says they mean when he looks me in the eyes and let’s them leave his mouth. No, I have to begin to take them seriously and have decided that I cannot wait another 2 or 3 years in hopes that he begins to feel those things for me that he says he wants to feel. It doesn’t mean I don’t love him but I am beginning to love myself more.

download-5

So PLAN C looks like this: Andre will be graduating from high school in 2019. There are very few college programs in the USA that offer degrees in what he wants to study; especially at a BS level. So I am contemplating moving to Wyoming, Montana or Idaho next June in order to establish residency so he would not be considered an out of state student when he goes to college. It is a good plan except for the fact that I would have to leave my two youngest…the thought of that just about kills me…but this is one way in which leaving would have a positive impact for one of my children anyways. Frankly, I know myself well enough that I do not want to be around to see B date and marry someone else so being out of the picture feels like a kind and loving thing to do for myself while making sure Andre gets the degree he wants. It seems like a winning situation all the way around if there is that type of thing in a divorce.  And so I told B about Plan C. I also told him that he had until May to win me back. To say he was shocked is an understatement but an important one because I am beginning to take back what I have lost…ME…and it just feels right! And while I have no idea what will happen it feels good to be considering different options and planning for a future alone should that be the route that is taken. For fear and indecision just isn’t an option for me anymore. I don’t want it and I reject it. Besides that, I just haven’t got time for the pain.

 

Exchange-A 10 Minute Poem Challenge

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / Leave a comment

Sometimes I wonder

What it will be like

For you to be away

Knowing that you are

Never coming back

Except for that special necktie

You wore at your father’s funeral

Which lies at the back of our old closet

Not being thought of until now

When you want something

From home

And nothing from me

images-5

Will I miss you?

Wishing you were coming back for me

Instead of that old tie

Or will I feel free?

Without the encumbrance of your expectations

Which I never seem to be able to live up to

Anyways

Will I miss laying my head on your chest

In bed as we exchanged nighttime pleasantries

Before that last kiss when we turned away

From one another

Each heading off to our private dreamlands

Yours which features new lovers

With better everythings

Than I will ever again have

And mine in which I follow my heart

To a vast and empty wasteland

Where nothing grows ever again

Because of the poison that you have spread

All over me

Wishing I was

Younger

Thinner

Prettier

Quieter

Move Loving

Less Loving

A Better Mom

Funnier

Less Demanding

A Better Housekeeper

Instead of just accepting me

For who I am

3889927-take-me-as-i-am-quote

Someday soon I suspect

I will know the answer to these questions

And will, most likely, not like what I discover

Because I know I will miss you

Terribly

Hurtfully

Absurdly

Uncomfortably

And will have to endure

All this sadness and pain

Until I find Alice

photo4-1

Who will lead me through

That oddly shaped door

Drinking the Kool-aid

In order to grow enough

To reach that handle

And turn the knob

That will bring me home to myself

To that place that I want to be

Safe and secure

Within myself and with myself

Appreciating all that I am

Which you could never do

And when I finally arrive

I will give myself a hug

Like you do

When meeting an old friend

And I will no longer

Be missing you

Because I will have found myself

Once again

I may be alone

But I’ll never again be lonely

Because now I am my own

Best Friend

Not beaten down

Not dismissed

 

But treasured for all that I have

And all that I am

Left to give to myself

And the world

All the gifts I possess

Which you returned to Macy’s

In exchange for fireworks

And a pink negligee

Size 2

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Slow Death

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 6 Comments

 

images-6

I have swallowed dirt

As you have drug me

Down this road called DIVORCE

images-7

I have eaten pain

Which is razor-sharp

For Breakfast

Lunch

And Dinner

Stabbing and slicing

My mouth bloody, gums raw

images-9

 

I have swallowed my pride

As I have attempted

To be that confident 20 something woman

I once was but am no longer

The one who gave you fireworks with each kiss

But now just lights an occasional Sparkler

Which burns out

Just a fast as a child’s temper tantrum

In the face of a Hershey’s kiss

images-10

I have drunk in the distaste

You have for me

Like vomit…

It stinks and is rancid

Eating up my insides

As it slithers down into my gut

Which now lives in perpetual

Anxiety

images-11

I have tasted your anger

For past deeds done to you

That I had no idea hurt

Because you were never truthful

About the feelings you had

That are now erupting from you

Like all the acid ash released from a volcano

That covers me with sadness, distaste and dislike

images-12

I have choked on all that you expected of me

The changes you wish for

That smother my free spirit

And are against all I stand for

Things I cannot agree to

No matter what

You still feast upon my body

And soul

Saying you have no passion

Which strips away my dignity

And tears my confidence to shreds

Right now you have the power

But slowly I am beginning to grab mine back

And when I do

The Phoenix that rises from the ashes

Will breathe fire

As I claim all I am

All that I hope to be

And leave you will the shell

Of that person you destroyed

I will then be whole

And you will be left with my dust/bones

To bury inside your unconscious mind

And it will be too late

To make up for all you have done

While creating something

So much stronger

Than you

images-5

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Woodie

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 19 Comments

images-3

He arrives home.

“I am not sure I want a divorce. i just need to be honest about my feelings. How I feel about you. Maybe like an alcoholic I need to hit bottom, tell you how I feel so I can move up and find that love for you again. It may take 6 months, it may take two years. I don’t know but I want to feel like we did when we met 30 years ago.”

The next day after many painful gut-wrenching talks.

He says: “My therapist says that maybe you should move out for 30 days. Why should it be me?”

She says: “I’m sorry. When you are the one wanting a divorce there are consequences for that. You don’t just get to go on it life like everything is okay and you are still entitled.”

Later that night

He would like a kiss goodnight. I would like one too. He thinks if he can just feel like he did 30+ years ago when we met everything will be okay. He truly believes that we can feel that youthful excitement and that every kiss will bring fireworks.

I kiss him

“Fireworks?” he asks.

“Nothing” I reply.

“I’ve got a woodie. I felt the fireworks.”

I don’t even know what to say about that. A woodie. What am I suppose to do about that? I am at a total loss.

Am I suppose to have sex with you in hopes of bringing us closer or am I suppose to not have sex because you tell me you no longer have “the love and passion to sustain a relationship.” Great sex is the one of the things we have shared all these years but it feels too painful now.

I guess to me sex has become very sacred, much more so than when I was young. When I was young sex was casual, free and everyone was doing it. Not any longer. Now it is meaningful to me. I put my heart and soul into it. Into pleasing one another.  It is one thing that is a miracle. Great sex after all these years. Yet, if you no longer have love or passion for me then you might as well just hire a hooker to please you because it feels like it is on the same level to me.

What am I to say to this? You want me to love you anyways? Still give you my heart and soul even though you will not give me yours?

What am I suppose to do with this? A broken relationship that you say you want to repair that I have worked on for two years and no matter what I have done it is not enough. I lose weight. I stop yelling. I keep a clean house. Everything you wanted and still I am not good enough. I am not enough for you.

What am I suppose to do with you? Love you until the very end or stop now to save my soul?

I have lost hope. If I keep trying, I give up my right to be a woman scorned because if I keep trying I do it knowing full well that the chances are not good for us to remain together. Perhaps I want to keep a little of that title. It provides a little measure of comfort though what I would do with it I cannot say but somehow that title just doesn’t appeal to me. A better one might be A Woman Better Off Without You.

images-4

P.S. Thank you to all my friends who have rode my crazy merry-go-round for the past 2 years. I know it has wrung you out just as it has me. I know that you are as weary of this as I am. But thanks for hanging in for me. It helps knowing that you are there.

 

 

Blink Of An Eye

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 2 Comments

6a00d8341bf7f753ef00e54f1592558833-800wi

This weekend was fabulous. Well, any weekend is fabulous if you are at the beach…how could it not be? We hiked the cliffs and just enjoyed spending time together. I worked in my garden, watched a few sunsets and sat on the back deck watching the marine layer slowing edge its way to shore. Our raven visited carrying a huge egg in his mouth which he promptly cracked on the shed and ate. Several furry antlered bucks grazed in the woods and I heard the wild turkeys in the hedgerow. Oh… and the seals were out with their babies zipping through the water…first here and then there as slippery as can be.  Really, it was lovely especially after last week with B which I will probably go into later this week.

We were heading home and for once the kids were not fighting in the car. The sun was setting with the pinks and oranges filling the sky. Then in the blink of an eye everything changed.

I received a text from my best friend. It read:

Mary is at the hospital. Her husband is in ICU. He was in an accident and cannot feel his legs.

Mary is my niece. Seems her sweet husband was out on a four wheeler which flipped. He has broken ribs, vertebrae and possibly paralysis. Surgery in the morning.

Now I am not a big prayer because I think God knows what is needed but if you are so inclined I am sure a few prayers would be appreciated for this young man and his young family.

In the blink of an eye it can all change. We all know this but when it comes home to roost it makes you remember just how precious life is and just how important it is to love and be loved.

And so I leave you with this quote that I read earlier this week. I cannot think of anything better.

“The purpose of life is to convert time into love.”-David Roberts, Puyallup, Washington

What shall you do with this second and what will you convert it into?

 

Please Leave

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 5 Comments

imgres

This week while I  spent a week away at the ocean I wrote a “Dear John” letter to my husband. It was five typed pages, single typed. That’s what you should expect when you marry a writer I suppose.

This was not a letter I wanted to write. Six kids, several grandkids, 30+ years, lots of great times and discovery as we traveled the world together. Until recently, my heart still skipped a beat when I saw him. He is still sexy and the most handsome man in the world to me.  Other women think so too. So this is scary. It is sad. It is heart wrenching. No, this is something I never in a million years envisioned. I mean we got married in an old castle so our love would be timeless like the stones that held those old walls together. The castle remains standing while our relationship crumbles, the dust rising up thickly through the rubble threatening to choke us both.

images-1

In the letter I told B that I would like him to move out preliminarily for a month so we didn’t have to say anything to the kids and disrupt their lives until we were positive of the direction that our relationship was going to take.. We could tell the kids that he is in China. I asked that he try to figure out who he is and what he wants the rest of his life to look like. I asked him to increase his sessions with his therapist. I told him to date, get laid or something. It’s time to move on for both of us. If you don’t know by now if you want to be with me then they way we are living is not giving you the clarity that you need. We need to shake things up a bit. But also just because you might decide you want back into my life there is a very good chance I will not be there and that that door will be closed and locked to you forever. For I am tired of you holding the master key to all the rooms in my soul

I was waiting until I got home to give the letter to him when we had time to spend together. However, on Wednesday night he told me his therapist suggested that we go back into marriage therapy. That triggered me and I told him I was no longer interested in attending therapy with him. I told him I wasn’t sure I wanted to be with him anymore, my love for him was quickly diminishing and that it was time we separate. He was shocked. He told me he loved me. I rolled my eyes over the telephone. I began to cry. He wants to keep trying. I don’t want to continue to suffer. Eighteen months is a long time to keep someone on a string. Eighteen months of wondering if today was going to be the day B walked in the door and said he was done was, in my opinion, 17 months too long.

images-2

“It is awfully hard to admit that our relationship has expired but we both have felt it draining us and I see that we are getting resentful, frustrated and are losing hope if we have not lost it already. Sometime it feels like I’m “the other woman” waiting for her lover to choose between her and his wife. Loving him fully but he cannot commit to her fully because he wants both worlds. You want the world of having me for the business side of things (taking care of the kids, house, doing the things that make your life easier) but you don’t want to give your heart to me. You want to keep me on a string until you decide what you want and whether or not you judge me capable of giving it to you. Frankly, I am tired of that game, having to prove myself over and over again to some weird sets of arbitrary conditions that you change at your whim. It is time for me to get off this merry-go-round.”

I still love the man but just because you love someone doesn’t mean you should be together. Most woman would love to be with the man I was with for the first 25 years of this 30+ year relationship. It is hard. This is not what I expected as a come close to turning the corner on 60. I want happiness for him. I seek peace for myself…happiness will come later and that is okay with me.

“I know that putting myself through the discomfort of losing you and the changes that go along with it will not be easy. Separating will be hard and there will be times when we both will feel insecure, needy and totally off balance. I am sure the first time I see you with a new love my heart will shatter in a million little pieces. But I am also trying to remember that change is empowering because it will allow new things to enter our hearts and our minds. Things that we are obviously lacking as a couple may become available as we become single or enter into new relationships. Endings just set the stage for something new and allows exactly what we are needing or seeking to make its entrance into our lives.”

images

So there it is. New beginnings. Painful endings. But I am okay and I will be okay. I am strong. I am invincible.  I am ready to move on from what I have today. I am not sure what the future looks like and I am okay with that. I am just trying to wish the best for all me included. I do worry for my children. Kids with autism do not do well with change and he has been an awesome dad. But…what is…is. And so everyday I have started my day with a meditation to bless myself and everyone in my life. Even B.

“I wish you happiness and that you are free of pain and suffering.”

It makes it easier to face the day and it makes me feel better.

I think it is time for me to get that dignity & grace tattoo