Awakening...

I'm so angry I can't even see straight today. Not only is the ex unemployed for the third year in a row this time of year, but he's informed me he can not pay child support and does not see why he should if he isn't earning an income. Um, well, maybe you should because they are your children, and they still eat whether or not you are gainfully employed.

I may seem cold-hearted to even publically post this, but it's my cheap therapy tonight.  I can not take even one more heart-broken phone call home from my girls. I will not continue to convince them that they should go with their dad when they don't want to.

Those of you who know me well know that, despite my outgoing nature, I shrink from conflict. And today was ripe with it. But something inside me finally really broke. It had been hanging by a thread, but I let lose like I've never done before and said exactly what I felt about the situation. I fought back. Sure, it didn't really do any good, but damn it felt great.
During a resulting telephone conversation (read 'fight), the ex told me to take a look in the mirror tonight and see if I'm happy with what I saw. He's always been the master of controlling these situations, of making me feel like less than what I am. He knows my mortal weakness... that I have a poor self image. Let's be honest - I'm overweight, I hate my fine hair, I don't like how I look without makeup.

But you know what? I took him up on his dare - I looked in the mirror. And for the first time in years, I'm not disappointed like I normally am. Call me a nut, but when I looked into my own eyes (yes, true story - sat on my bathroom countertop and looked at myself, right in the eye) I saw a fierce determination, a strength to get through yet another uphill battle and someone who looks much healthier and happier than she has in years.

The ex's move to try to break me even further brought about an unexpected moment of awakening and happiness, and it's unleashed a fury of emotion. I have cried harder than I ever have in the past six months today. I feel like I'm finally able let myself be immersed in the hurt that I'd bottled up for so many years. These tears feel like a sweet relief from the drought of shame over a failed marriage and denial of self.

Nevermore.

Because of James

A few days ago a friend posted a random article about organ donation on Facebook. It's odd, but the innocent news article triggered a flurry of emotion for me. It reminded me of James.

I know that James had dark hair. I know he had a moustache. I have a picture of him, with his pet German Shepherd. He was from Virginia. And he died too young. I never knew James, and I never will. But James is an integral part of my family and my every day life.

James saved my daughter's life, though. He was an organ donor, and a piece of the body he left behind is now so integrally a part of my daughter's every heart beat that it is, quite literally, the reason she is alive today.