Happy birthday to me.
After months of separation, years of oh-that’s-why-pseudo-separation, a lovely-but-doomed friendship, and a lot of figurative truth-screaming from the mountaintops, I woke up this morning at four AM and realized the weirdest thing.
I really am giving up.
When I got sober, I had to give up the idea that I can drink normally. It’s not a moral issue, the chemical thing, but I can’t do it. Now, I’ve had to give up the idea that I can “win” ethical or moral arguments with the truth, or at least… what I believe the truth to be.
In the A&P a few days ago, the cashier and her manager were loudly discussing what to do about the fact that I gave my Coinstar voucher AFTER the items were rung up. They kept bringing in higher-ranked people to loudly ask me if I HAD ANY MONEY.”
I finally yelled – and I mean in theater conversational yell: ”No! I do not have any money! But since you’re announcing this so loudly, could you also see if you have any EXTRA SMALL CONDOMS in the back for me? I’m out.”
The manager laughed, and said “You’re a comedian, huh?” He was being genuinely friendly. The lady behind me in line snorfled. I said “Hey, this lady likes the condom joke, that’s a good thing.” And…And… She looked at my, eyes alight, and said conspiratorially:
“I HAVE TO.”
Holy shit. She outed her husband for having a tiny wee-wee, and completely made my day. That was amazing. Because she wasn’t being mean. I swear to God. You had to see it on her face. She’s just accepted her situation and, I guess, adapted.
The POINT here is that I give up. I’m not engaging my oldest to prove that I’m on equal footing with my ex. It angers him and will never, ever work. I can’t “win.”
I give up trying to make lawyers see lying is wrong. I’m just going to prove myself right… only to the point where I get divorced without getting screwed.
I give up being anything but on the planet (for as long as I’m allowed), being true to myself, not drinking, and being as present as possible for the people I love.
As possible. That’s the key thing here.
In two hours, I meet with two lawyers. One of them believes I’m delusional. She thinks I believe I am Elmo. I am not making this up. They are suing me to pay for the privilege of meeting with them to get this divorce on track.
So here I go. Happy birthday to me.
43 years old, starting over but having everything.
Love to all. Even you, thriver.
p.s. Championable went offline, I’m restoring posts. Sorry.