Well, that's ugly.

 So the blasted work light turned up and he isn't to blame.  On top of that, I found it while searching for my wallet that I'd hidden a bit too well. Naturally, his assertions over the issue ring in my mind agonizingly.  My first instinct is to take the hit, grovel and apologize, so I can feel like an honorable man. But my second is to shut up and let the cards keep falling anyway because the result of it has been better for me. I don't care how he feels, and that makes me doubt myself. Choosing to sit on this lie makes me doubt myself. Doing something about it will give him ammo for more gaslighting. But then I also go back wondering yet again about the wallet.

I'm walking around in a mire of self loathing right now, wondering how to handle it.

Naturally, I turn to my writing, because this is the only place I can turn. I don't trust anyone anymore. I don't feel like there's anyone I can trust. I wonder if that's because I'm so far down some nutter path of illusion or something.  I find myself wanting to rake over my memories for evidence.

But then I did kind of rake over some memories recently. An account of helping someone to the Nth degree for nothing, not even a thank you, being treated poorly for all the work I did responding to someone's expression of need. 

I could go back into that with "well maybe they didn't want help and you were pushing it" but that part of the story isn't there now.

So what I want, is to stand on my refusal to engage, just stay in no contact mode as much as possible and not give him the satisfaction nor give myself the virtue. I really do need him out of my life, I'm still sure of that. Completely. I don't want him sneaking back in with a snow shovel or a wallet and undoing what has been a horrible two months of hard grift for me. Emotionally, physically, financially. 

I know he spent our life together picking fights for jollies, that it's his idea of partying.  I know the dogs get really stressed out anticipating his come home every night but all they get out of it is the excitement at the door.  He mostly ignores everyone and stares into his monitor untill he nods off.

I know he was never transparent with me in anything any time.  

I suspect he was manipulating money for control too. I'll never know.

Well I had a full blown panic attack after getting off the phone with an intake worker for disability. So much to do yet, so many documents and forms.  What's worth, I need to corroborate my disability with a witness!!!!  What the heck do I do with that?  I think that's when the panic attack took over but I kept it half together till the phone was off. 

Well anyway, I'm going to have a lot of icky feelings about that lamp for awhile now, and I'm running around questioning myself every time I misplace something. In an organized house during moving in while under the stress of a divorce and looming financial disaster.  Yeah. See, he said "you're always losing things and blaming it on me."  I told him this never happened before he came along.  And then I gavbe up because I've tried to explain before that I wouldn't suspect him if I didn't already have such a low opinion of him. That the trust is irretrievably broken. 

Let's say I did the "honorable' choice and apologized. Then he comes in here every night or every other. We have much icky challenge with feelings, that hate will sizzle. When he quits visiting the dogs, during which we might have fought again, they'll mourn all over again, every 24-72 hours or however often he shows up. I'll wonder about anything I've misplaced, and keep going into little rages all over the house as new fresh angers pop up.

See, that's why I don't use a therapist. They wouldn't tell me what to do, and at best, might be able to tease that out of me. But I'd have to trust the therapist with these nasty black spots on my heart. That they'd forgive me. Will I forgive myself? I already did, that's what this writing is for. 

I didn't quite understand that much, but did know I needed to lay it out, my feelings, what I want, why, why I think it's still the wiser course if it's not the "right" course.

I still will continue to think on it a bit, you know, but every fiber of my being screams no to undoing what has been done. It can't be undone anyway.  He's hurt and angry, I'm hurt and angry, we're getting divorced, and the dogs are not better off seeing him and losing him over and over again.  Maybe in the spring he can show up and walk them but really, he can't continue to know these dogs. 

He keeps saying he'll get pet insurance.  Maybe he will, but probably not. Especially now I won't let him see them. 

I feel awful for that part, I know how much that must hurt. The empathy is eating at me.  That's the hard place. Needing him to stay away is the rock.  I'm between them.

My nerves have given out.  I'm just not able, today, to maintain a solid mentation, my memory and thinking are so dulled.  Plugged sinuses too from crying.  I told myself not to expect to go outside at all today unless it's to move some snow.  It's coffee time, though, I'll do that, then I think I'll move some snow before it gets more set in place, the temps drop, etc. 

I also had to repair my car bumper.  Friday, while backing out to get my tires installed, which never happened, I broke the cracked and mended bumper again, but this time it fell right off. I went to the tire place and back, then removed the bumper while the weather was fair and brought it inside to work on. I've used plastic filament to splint, crazy glue followed by hot glue to hold it all in, and then some duct tape to keep the weather away from the glue. On the outside there was no chance of hiding the crack. I couldn't hope to match the color, the last repair hadn't been color fast anyway, so I painted it into a pretty vine with flowers. Now it waits to be reinstalled, on the weekend. Frankly, I think I'll do my own tires too. It'll be warm enough and I do know how, I just never did for all this time because Dan was always doing. I always let dan do anything he offered because he did little enough as it was. Which resulted in my skills atrophying and my mind losing the idea of how, even though I honestly do know.

Oh my god what a black day.  Four days of blizzards preceeded it on top of all the above crap. Now I checked email and got one from the court, the judge denied my application. I can't read his handwriting so was going to print it and work it out later but my printer needs tech work. 

my body hurts. 

What do I do if welfare denies me because I'm not divorced?