Tuesday, 11 September 2007

You're so cold
Keep your hand in mine
Wise men wonder while
Strong men die

Show me how it ends it's alright
Show me how defenseless you really are
satisfied and empty inside
Well, that's alright, let's give this another try

It's alright
It's alright
It's alright

Literal.

Some days being small and quick is a blessing. It means I can put on my trainers fast, grab my keys and my zen and hit the ground running, soaring across the pavement and down the sidewalk so that I can't hear him calling after me. Sometimes the best place to be is six kilometers away from everything that reminds me of who I'm supposed to be.

And then, as always, I am required to turn and come back.

Some days that part is so very very hard.

Monday, 10 September 2007

Free radical.

    Don't act like an angel
    You're falling again
    You're no superhero
    I found in the end

    So lie to me once again
    and tell me everything will be alright
    lie to me once again
    and ask yourself before we say goodbye
    Well goodbye
    Was it worth it in the end?


Cold mornings bring steaming cups of coffee and warm Lopi sweaters to my world as we greet this new day with vigor and promise. Jacob has pulled out his newsboy cap, his ears are cold. I sat outside this morning and kept him company as he split wood and stacked it beside the garage for winter. It's almost impossible to believe we're heading for another long cold prairie winter, another five month stretch of endless nights, relentless cold and neverending white snow. It's a backhanded gift as well, a full season ahead of me spending cozy nights by the fire, and passing the darkest hours snuggled deep into Jacob's strong arms for warmth. For security on so many levels. We exist in a perpetual winter, perpetual darkness from which I must defend my thoughts.

This morning as Jacob swung the ax he spoke of his plans for work and home. Sam made him an eleventh-hour offer, a generous shifting of roles and a lessening of obligations that makes for a fine balance between the politics of the church and Jacob's long love of preaching. This would fulfill everything he wants, keep him busy when he needs to be busy and free him up when he needs or wants to be free to support me, or simply spend his days with his arms around me.

Sam somehow convinced the board that a second, part-time minister is required and Jacob would be perfect to fulfill a role that he fought to have added for years already. It's ironic that they approve it now, but he had a long history of butting heads with his committees, who could never see far enough past Jacob's radical tendencies, even by Unitarian standards, to give him free reign. Sam is quiet and conservative, and it took him echoing Jacob's reasonings for them to finally cave.

And Jacob is thrilled by it.

This lets him preach a once or twice a month, it gives him a little bit of everything, but namely it gives him the perfect balance of time at home and yet he won't go insane being home twenty-four hours a day.

He jumped at the chance to go back to what he loves most without the politics (Sam gets the politics, let's see how long that lasts before Jake wades right back in) and without the time commitment. He got the call, confirmed the details and then struck a match and burned his very first bridge down and doesn't regret it for a moment.

Oddly enough, the university calmly put out the fire and wished him luck, telling him they'd love to have him contribute in a guest capacity, writing and perhaps a lecture or two if time permits in the future. A very generous reaction under the circumstances.

This means I still get to be the minister's wife. He did ask if he could keep his Viking nickname, however. I said I'd let him know.

It also means he's going to be home to run with me, which we're going to begin again every morning after we take the kids to school.

Human Jukebox.

What a cheeseball. He came home from our run with his endorphins on fire and he's singing Back for Good to me. So loudly and with feeling. Leave it to Jacob to remember the cheesiest songs I've ever loved and keep them for moments like this. You can listen to it too, but who can forget Take That? Man, they were hot.

I can admit that. Few will, you know.

Sunday, 9 September 2007

Sunday breakfast, standing up.

The good news is that Ben didn't come after all. He told PJ he was coming, he asked Christian for a crashing space, he got all fired up and then PJ talked him into not doing anything stupid, reminding him that the last thing I need is him coming home. Possibly threats were involved. For some reason he got that message when he doesn't seem to get the others. Weird. I know I can't worry about him but I do. He's drinking heavily, he's not doing much better than I am. I'm a hypocrite. I love him to death and yet I'm supposed to turn my back on him? Where would I be if everyone had turned their backs on me? He needs as much support as I do.

The rest of my updates and and oh, boy, stories from the past week will have to wait a day or so, today we've got a family day planned here and we're about to be appallingly late for church.

Saturday, 8 September 2007

Hey! There's no update today. I have a new laptop and as soon as I get everything installed and as perfect as I like it I'll write something useful. Until then, no worries.

Cooooool.

Friday, 7 September 2007

Waiting for my tea to steep.

Someone please find Ben something to do before Jacob murders him. I wrote I was home, he got on a plane and came back. If he thinks he's coming over he'll be in for a surprise.

I give up. These guys must have billions of aeroplan miles by now. And a hell of a lot of nerve.

In other news? Bailey cleared out the moment I got in, so we could have our privacy and to get back to her own family, and Erin leaves at eight tonight and may or may not help boot Ben out of the province again.

And Jacob?

Quit his brand new job on Tuesday and just told me this afternoon. People wonder why I can never catch my breath. But it's okay. I asked him to on a whim. I never thought he'd actually do it.

Sympathy for the devil.

The rumors can stand. Guess whatever you want, imagine whatever you can. I can't possibly address everything so I'll just continue with what I need to get out here.

If you were feeling sorry for me, don't. I've been running around with my emotions fully out of control for almost two years at this point.

Don't feel sorry for me for being put on a private plane and sent to a lovely private center staffed with some of the best doctors in the world, a five-star menu and thousand thread count sheets. I never claimed not to have friends in high places and I never said they didn't enjoy using their ungodly wealth to help me, though I have paid the price for it already.

That's a long story for some quiet day when I feel like making you fall off your chair.

In any case, the fact that I was there and Jacob and the kids were here means that one large part of the changes to take place starts tomorrow. Family therapy.

To help my family deal with me.

Under a whole new diagnosis. One that fits like a glove. The others never seemed to. I was told it takes a long time to get to this point.

So that Jacob can withstand me. So that he and Ruth and Henry won't be damaged by this. As if.

I didn't help myself and I didn't get enough help and I realized late last week that oh, I needed way more help because I love Jacob and I don't want to fuck this up. He's not the kind of man to put up with someone who won't help themselves and yet he understands that this was serious and unchecked and I couldn't get where I needed to be and he's done more than admit to exploiting me too (sexually, no less. Jacob.) and he's got some issues to deal with and he needs as many tools as I do, to learn to live with Bridget.

Because the best advice out there if you're married to someone like me?

Is to run.

Far far away from them, and don't look back.

That makes me want to bury myself in a hole forever. A destroyer of souls has no place with an angel like Jacob.

But Jacob shook his head. And he choked right up and told me he's my unconditional man and that he will love me forever. Even after everything I have put him through or may put him through in the future.

It's like my hearing but emotional. I have to work so hard and I miss things anyway.

I signed over control of all of my money. All of it this time. I put all the power in Jacob's lap again and he's in control now and I'm so much happier. And there's more changes to speak of but today is only one day.

When I'm done rambling you'll be the first to know but every time I feel it start I remember his voice whispering to me.

Unconditional, Bridget.

It's my new favorite word.

We'll be okay. The road just got longer, the broken glass is spread over it seemingly endlessly. The work will be difficult. We'll do it. And here's the point in the choose your own adventure novel where you can decide if you want to come with us or stop reading and find someone less difficult to enjoy.

Because, oh boy. We all knew I was pretty messed up but who the hell knew it was this fucking spectacularly bad?

Post haste. Welcome back, little Bee.

    I won't live your way
    Won't hear what you say.

You know, five days away to get my head on straight and indulge in three differently wonderful kinds of therapy isn't always a bad thing. Getting a better handle on my emotions won't be a bad thing, and us flinging the usual fed-up ultimatums at each other tends to be the best catalyst in the world to make me move.

Because Nothing in the world could fail me now. It's tattooed on my skin. It means something to me.

I'm wonderfully fixable. Eventually.

In the meantime, don't believe a word I say, and for gosh sake's don't be surprised at my largely inappropriate behavior. Those of you long ago who sent me long letters telling me I was a certain way, well, let's just say I'm a little freaked out that the internet had me pegged long before the professionals who were close but not close enough.

More later, I'm a little hesitant today. Even though I need to get a lot of these words out, it's going to take a little bit. It's going to take even longer to get through these emails. How many of you are there? I am floored. Thank you.

I need some Jacob time now. I haven't seen him and he's home and I need to not let go of him for a little while. I'll be back.

Saturday, 1 September 2007

Just for a little while.

My house has been full of people since around five this morning. And I'm not going to be here to enjoy any of them, but I know they love me and I know they want good things for me.

Bailey and Erin are going to be sharing care of the kids and looking after my Jacob.

I'm going to go somewhere where I can get some help. I'm going this morning. I'll be admitted at eleven.

You see, life isn't supposed to be this hard for anyone and I'm constantly sabotaging myself because it feels better when I hurt. I can no longer deal with things and it's time to stop putting off real help. Just know that Jacob is not the bad guy I make him out to be. I have torn him up with my words and just about ruined him, and neither one of us can take me anymore. Not this way.

Wish her luck, I know she's in here somewhere.