plenty of shit has me depressed

I’m trying to avoid being buried by the bullshit

I know I’ve not written at my usual pace. It’s not that I don’t have posts swirling around in my head. There are far too many words to write.

I am working on the next post about Ian. It’s a doozy. But I needed to step away from that to just dump the other shit I’m dealing with out on a page.

First shit? Will, my ex-husband.

He wanted to move to the other side of the world again. Some of you may remember he moved away a year after he and I split up and was gone for ten months, leaving me as a single parent to an angry little boy. It was during that time I met Tony. Continue reading

Getting Tony to step off the emotional curb.

Yesterday I wrote about Tony and how it feels foolish for me to go back into a relationship with him when he’s not willing to step off the emotional curb with me.

That, my friends, is the core of the issue.

I can talk about whether he loves me – I think he does, even thought he can’t articulate it.

I can discuss whether he will make progress in being more communicative. Yes, I’m sure over time this can happen, as I’ve had glimmers of hope. Continue reading

Just another maudlin Monday

The light of my life returned to the house yesterday before dinner. He wanted to play on his iPad and all I wanted to do was drink up his delicious almost-seven-awesomeness. We managed a decent balance of both.

I recognize depression and sadness in me. It doesn’t happen very often, but I suppose it’s quite normal for it to occur every once in a while. I didn’t leave the house from my arrival on Saturday afternoon until Liam and I walked to get groceries for yesterday’s dinner. At least I managed to shower. I am profoundly sad. I know it will pass.

I exchanged perhaps 4 text messages with Tony in the last 48 hours. He had his child all weekend. Thursday’s invitation is still out there – I suppose I will hear from him at some point today to tell me if he can go. It’s hard to have a serious relationship conversation with someone when they don’t contact you. Continue reading

I have an answer to one of my unknowns.

As I wrote recently, I currently have three big unknowns in my life, causing considerable stress.  Late Tuesday night, one of the three were resolved.

I was at my friends country place. My phone was connected to the stereo system to listen to music; as such, I didn’t check my email or text messages until I went to bed.

I had a text from Will: “Can you call me?” Continue reading

It’s no wonder I’m stressed.

I’ve been craving bad food for weeks now and am back to my daily drinking. Before anyone worries excessively about my alcohol consumption, I will be specific. Prior to getting sick in the Fall, I had a glass of wine or two each night. I wouldn’t drink to get drunk but certainly felt the effects.

Being sick ended that. I didn’t feel like it and I also realized it wasn’t the healthiest habit.  A drink a day is fine but I definitely exceeded that on a regular basis.

However I realized in recent weeks I’m back to my old habits. In addition, I’ve been craving sweets (normally just a once a month thing) and bad food in general. And giving in to those cravings. Continue reading

The universe doesn’t want me to go bowling

Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone.

I write this from a train with my son next to me. I think it’s not a surprise to anyone that I live in the Northern hemisphere. It’s brutally cold where I’m taking him this weekend, and we are going skating and to visit one of my closest friends and her family.

I’m looking forward to relaxing. I didn’t bring my work computer. I’m now the proud owner of a new fancy ski jacket (pink and orange, yet it manages to look rather nice) and snow pants. Did I mention it’s brutally cold? Yesterday the power went out in my house for several hours, so instead of a quick drive to the sporting goods store, it was a few hours of transit and walking and oh yeah, searching for my son’s snowpants which had been lost by my step-father the night before. Continue reading

My biggest heart break | 1 Jan 1999

For this post to make the most sense, you should probably read the ones that precede it – my journal entries about meeting and falling in love with Will, my ex-husband, in late 1998:

I never wrote about what happened literally days after those entries. I was away with my family on a vacation. New Years Eve or Day, I can’t remember, I called Will to say hi. He was just weird on the phone; distant and not himself. He didn’t say anything was wrong, and I when I inquired about it, he said everything was fine.

But my gut told me something different. Sure enough, when I got home, he told me he didn’t want to be in a relationship  anymore.

[Yeah, I guess I could call this “Ann St. Vincent Breakup Week!” Like shark week, just a lot sadder and less scary.]

I was completely stunned. I had given him my entire heart and soul and like that – poof – it was over. I no longer remember the details but I wrote a bit about my reaction in a post called I’m Being Tested.

I had never before been so heartbroken. I have never, ever, been the same.

The details are foggy now but I know I was destroyed. He’s not particularly comfortable with emotion. I showed a lot of it. We got back together. Many years later, he made a comment that blew me away – that had I not cried so much we would have stayed broken up. I wrote about it briefly here.

Here’s the thing. Ultimately, when I look back on our relationship, I should have walked away then. This isn’t about regret; I have an amazing son out of the union and wouldn’t change that for anything. But if I look at things completely dispassionately, I know that it was at that moment that my red flag radar should have been off the charts. Because here’s what I never allowed myself to see clearly:

He didn’t mean what he said

My ex rarely said what he meant, if he thought it would cause conflict. He would take a path of least resistance. However, it didn’t last, and he would later get angry when I acted on what he said / agreed etc. For example, he would say he would come with me to a family event. Then a week before we would say, seemingly out of the blue, “you know I don’t want to go to your family event. I can’t believe you are making me go.”

This happened with little things and big things. It was constant. It was so bad that I felt everything with him had to be translated, triangulated, to see what the truth was. It was exhausting. His whole family was like that.

So when I think back to our courtship, I’m pretty sure now that much of what he said, he didn’t mean. You are supposed to say that your place is their place. You are supposed to take things to the next level. Supposed to say you are in love with someone.

And isn’t that the worst thing of all…that now, in hindsight, I have no idea what was fiction, truth, or what he wanted to believe was true?

All the other shit

I started of writing big sections here and the reality is, there was a lot of stuff I saw but didn’t let myself really see it. Here’s a sampling:

He was anti-social. He had a few close friends but that was it. No interest in meeting new people and socializing – he once told me “I’m not taking any new friend applications”. It was always a challenge and we were not well matched at all in this regard. I let go of a lot of friendships which is one of my regrets.

Will would sometimes, in the middle of a night with friends at our house, get up and say “well, I’m going to bed” and just disappear. Dinner parties, which I love, were rare and only with a couple close friend couples. He could fake it if needed – we had an annual party and he was just fine – but it was the rare exception.

He was vicious when he was angry. I would be thinking everything was fine – mostly because he wouldn’t deal with the little stuff – and then all of a sudden he would explode with anger. Yelling, saying I was a total fucking selfish bitch. He called me a c*nt. He called me all sorts of things that honestly, I’ve just blocked out of my memory.

I would be stunned into submission and then he would be better – saying later “are you still mad at me?” – it would always take me a few days to move past what I had just experienced. I would shut down…and like a rechargeable battery, each time I came back up, I lost a little bit of my juice.

He was exceedingly controlling. “I’m not having this conversation” was an oft-used line. Although he didn’t shy away from conflict when he was angry, he had no mechanism for rational sorting through of issues, in advance, before they came huge problems. He got better at that over time, but it took ages.


Every red flag I saw, I rationalised away. I told myself that the “nice” guys I had met before were boring, and I wanted someone who would challenge me. I liked that he was intelligent. He had varied interests – in theory. While he said he liked everything from baseball to opera, whenever I would suggest we go out, he wouldn’t want to go. I shudder to think how many event and concert tickets I purchased over the years, only to go unused or passed off to friends or family in the last minute.

Two weeks before I got married, I sat at my mother’s kitchen table crying that I wasn’t sure he was the right man for me. I got married anyway.

I refuse to ignore my gut anymore. It’s a lesson that took a while to learn, but my gut hasn’t been wrong about any guy I’ve met in the last year. I also know that a portion of my heart is locked away, nice and safe. It got shattered once and I’d really like to avoid having history repeat itself. The trick is figuring out how…

28 December 1998 | Part 3

Excerpts from my last journal entry ever…shortly after meeting my ex-husband.

For Part One, read this post.

For Part Two, read this post.


I think one of the best things is that we’re so evenly matched. He is also essentially a lonely person, and although he has many acquaintances, has few good friends. And, we both feel that we are misunderstood by most people we know.

Will is also very familiar with the pressure put on “gifted” children, as his high school was very hard on its students. There is a high expectation that not only will the students be excellent academically, but that they will also be the leaders of the generation. No pressure!

His parents also expect the same, that their son will be the president of a bank or major corporation. Although Will would like to be a writer, he will be that president his parents (and he) want. Will, I have no doubt, will be a very wealthy man in a short time. I told him I didn’t care how much money he makes, and he knows it’s the truth. Continue reading