Six Years Gone By

Yesterday, I decided to resurrect my blog.  It's been about six years since I've regularly posted.

Last night, I went back and re-read the whole thing.  I guess I should re-start by posting some updates:

• The Kid turned 18, dropped out of school, and immediately returned to her biological family.
• My divorce with The Ex was finalized.
• I found a new boyfriend.  We met online in December of 2012, but didn't become an official couple until 2013.  Going forward, he will be referred to as "The Boyfriend" in the blog.
• The Kid, who is unmarried, has since had two kids.  One of them tested positive for drugs at birth and has been taken away by Child Welfare Services.  CWS contacted me about nine months ago and asked me if I wanted to take custody of the child.  I said no*.  
• I was reunited with an old and very dear friend.  He and I lost touch back in 2005.  Coincidentally, I found him just as his long-term girlfriend was kicking him out.  He's been bunking with The Boyfriend and me for about a year.  He's the reason I learned to play guitar.  I'll call him "Guitar Buddy" for now.

Some other things worth noting:

• Getting divorced wasn't so bad.  I discovered, after The Ex and The Kid were gone, that The Ex had an enormous spending problem.  Once our finances were separate, I suddenly had a lot more money.  Remember how I was always complaining we were broke?  A significant portion of that was because of The Ex's financial infidelity.
• I was able to refinance (and keep) the house that The Ex didn't want.
• I was able to pay off the vehicle loan, and credit card debt.
• Despite my profound fears about losing my job, I didn't.  I'm still working for the same company.  While the job is still super-demanding, I've pushed back somewhat, received a raise, and the demands on my time are less unreasonable.
• Dr. Howard's Success Diet is much tastier than the U.S. version of The Cambridge diet.  While some of the flavors aren't to my liking, I'm not finding their worst to be as gag-worthy as Cambridge strawberry.  Of course I'm only beginning Day 3 of sole source.  Ask me in a week what I think of the stuff.

* I said no to taking custody of The Kid's child because I am 53 years old, and I need to spend the next 20 years focusing on planning for my retirement, not raising a grandchild.  We (The Ex and I) struggled enormously with The Kid's social, intellectual, and behavioral challenges that stemmed from her biological mother's use of drugs and alcohol while she was pregnant.  I know I do not have the time, energy or strength for a second round of, especially since I never wanted to raise an infant.

Sometimes, when it comes to troubled adult children, you have to know when to step back and not get involved.  At the end of the day, I care about The Kid, and wish she was making better choices, but I also realize I am powerless to change what she is doing.  I'm not going to throw myself into the fire again.

In this case, the most loving thing I can do for myself, The Kid, and The Kid's Kid, is to allow someone else to take over.  I hope they have the time, money, energy, and desire to do the job right.

Almost, But Not Quite, Halfway There

I realized this morning that it had been quite a while since I posted.  This morning's weight?  190.8.

I have lost just over 71 lbs.

That's a lot of weight.  It's almost a person. When I tell people I've lost over 70 lbs, they are surprised.  They look at me in shock.  Some will say, "I thought you've lost a few pounds."  Others say, "You look great."

But the truth is that I don't look great.  Even after losing 70 lbs, I am still obese.  I am still not quite halfway to my goal weight.

People also say to me, "Don't you feel great?"

I'm not sure how to answer that question.  Do I feel better than I did when I weighed 262 lbs?  Of course I do.  But, the reason I feel better doesn't have much to do with the lost fat.  It has to do with the fact that my thyroid was finally properly medicated.

I see the weight loss as nothing more than a side effect of thyroid medication.  At this point, I'm not trying to diet.  I'm not counting calories, skipping dessert, or eating rabbit food until it comes out of my ears.  While I notice I'm not as hungry as I once was, I'm not going around skipping out on things I want to eat.

If I want it, I eat it.  If I don't want it, I don't eat it.

Granted, I'm not eating bowls and bowls of ice cream or piles of junk food.  I feel like I've reached something of a point of equilibrium.

In the 11 weeks (rounded down) since my last weigh-in, I've lost 9.2 lbs.  That's not exactly going to win me a world record, but I figure anything in the right direction is an improvement.  If I'd get off my dead lazy butt, I'm sure I'd lose more.

But I'm not sure I care all that much right now.  I have a lot on my plate.

The Ex moved out last month taking The Kid in tow.  I was gone on vacation for the three weeks prior and returned to a vacant, but very dirty, house.  It's taken me a month (yes, it was that bad) to get the place cleaned up.

My stress level has dropped from being very high to pretty low.  Sure, I have my moments, still, but overall, I think that this divorce is probably the best thing that ever happened to me.

It's hard to believe that anyone would say, "my divorce was the best thing that ever happened to me," but it's true.

I don't want to talk too badly about my ex, since the parting is amicable, but the fact is that The Ex was a huge slob.  Our two biggest fights were about money and the cleanliness of the house.  The Ex wanted to be my wife, but didn't seem to want to do a very good job of cooking, cleaning or anything else that smacked of "wifeliness."  It is incredibly nice to have a clean house and know that it will stay that way.

Granted, having three pet birds doesn't exactly help, but I clean the cages and vacuum the floor daily.  My house is no longer a disaster, which it was before.  I was honestly embarrassed to have friends over.

It's been over a year since The Ex asked me for a divorce.  It's been 4.5 months since we signed our get (Jewish divorce papers).  While we still haven't filed for civil divorce, as we've decided to wait until The Kid turns 18 in 7 weeks, we have signed a property settlement agreement.  The hard part, it seems, is over.

And now it's time to get on with my life.

Transsexuality = Narcissism?

In my post where I first mentioned The Ex's transsexuality, I spoke about Christine Benvenuto's book, Sex Changes: A Memoir of Marriage, Gender, and Moving On.  Although the circumstances of our separate marriages and divorces are quite different, I have to admit to feeling something of a kinship with Ms. Benvenuto.

In her book, she outlined how her ex changed after his announcement that he wanted to be a girl.  He started out as a caring, kind and wonderful man, and he became a selfish, narcissistic shell of the person he once was.

While I don't want to badmouth, as I think it generates a lot of unnecessary bad karma, I've seen a lot of changes in The Ex that aren't so complimentary.  I'm starting to wonder if there isn't a certain amount of narcissism inherent in transsexuality.

Since The Ex has decided to pursue Sex Reassignment Surgery (SRS), I've seen a total change in his/her personality.  Our every day interactions are difficult at best, and it seems as if speaking to me in a kind and respectful tone of voice is almost impossible.  There have been a number of times where even The Kid (who is not one to come to my defense) has asked, "Why are you being so mean to [Oinkstop]?"

I don't see why this is necessary.  The Ex is the one who wants to leave, so why be nasty about it?  The Ex is the one, after all, who signed a lease on an apartment that isn't vacant until late July.  If s/he was so desperate to leave, why not look for a place that's vacant now, and then move as soon as The Kid finishes school?

I don't get it.

I've noticed The Ex spending tons of money. Over the past few weeks, I've seen (or found evidence of) a new tattoo, a new bicycle, new clothing, and a new car stereo.  Every few days a new outfit seems to appear, and I'm simply puzzled by all the shopping.  The Ex has only received one paycheck (and it was only for about a week of work) so the timing of all these purchases seems ill-advised.  The Ex will also need to purchase furniture for the new apartment, so it looks like there will be even more spending.

Honestly, it's taking my breath away.

I'm left scratching my head at the moment because I don't know if this illogical behavior is caused by your typical divorce craziness, some innate mental illness, or just the side-effects of years of repressed transsexuality.  What I do know is that the person who is sleeping on my sofa is not the person I invited to live with me 14 years ago, or even the same person I married 5 years ago.

"People change," The Ex has said, repeatedly.

Do they?

While I agree that change is part of life, I don't know many people who have changed so utterly, so completely, that they become unrecognizable.  I don't know the person sleeping on my living room sofa.  He is a stranger to me.

Oddly enough, since his decision to surgically become a woman, I've seen less and less of his female side.  When we first got together, I really did believe that there was a female personality trapped inside of a male body.

Now, it's very hard to see more than an angry man wearing dresses that do not flatter his middle-aged paunch.

Spending Money Like Water

This morning, I found a set of keys that I didn't recognize under a pile of papers on the coffee table.  I took a photograph of them, texted it to The Ex and asked about them.  I was told they were keys to a bike lock.

A few texts back and forth and I learned that The Ex just spent $500 to buy a mountain bike.

This is The Ex who will be moving around the end of July.  This is The Ex who still hasn't received a full paycheck from the new job.  This is also The Ex who has run up over $6,000 on one secret credit card I didn't know about, and at least $1,000 on another.

This defies logic.

The rationale behind the bike was that The Ex plans to commute to and from work after the move.

But again, that won't happen until late July.

Wouldn't it have made sense to wait to buy a brand-new bicycle until after the move?

Just sayin'.

Seems like The Ex is spending money like water.  I just hope that I don't end up having to pay for some or all of this debt.

Unfortunately, I live in a community property state.

Me 1, Exterminator 0

This morning, the exterminator came back to the house to check the traps.  Two had been set off, but nothing had been caught.  I, of course, showed off the trophy picture of the rat I killed with the shoe.

"That's a good-sized roof rat," the exterminator said.

Ugh.

So far, the score is 1 to 0, with me in the lead.

Gah!

Last night, The Ex came home late from a Mother's Day BBQ he had been invited to.  Somehow, I see it as rather ironic that a male-to-female transsexual claims Mother's Day.  While he was at a BBQ, I came home after visiting my mother for the weekend and did laundry.

The Ex, of course, had said that he was "doing chores" while I was gone.  I didn't notice a damn thing done, and the kitchen was messy and full of dirty dishes.  When he walked in the door, I asked him to clean up the kitchen.  He washed the dishes, but didn't do anything about the rest of the mess.

Ugh.

He ended up making a comment about just how "stressful" getting divorced is.  I just stared at him.  I couldn't say much.

I couldn't help but think that all of this stress is something that he brought upon himself.  If he didn't want the stress, then why in the heck did he ask for a divorce in the first place?

I felt like I was supposed to somehow feel sorry for him.

Don't worry, I don't.

Killed a Rat

Yesterday afternoon, I killed a rat in the middle of my entryway floor.  I dispatched it by whacking it, multiple times, with a shoe.  It was not a pretty scene.  The rat didn't die right away, and there was blood on the floor.  After it was over, I found myself on the sofa, sobbing.

I don't like to kill things.  As I was slaying the rat, I remember looking into its eyes and thinking, "I am depriving this creature of its life."

I felt horrible.

By the same token, I can't really have rats running around in my house, can I?  I called an exterminator last week because I heard something scratching and squeaking around behind the kitchen cabinets.

Ugh.

This morning, I heard what sounded like a squeaking rat fight behind the cabinet.  When the exterminator came to check his traps, I pointed out where I heard the noise from.  He reset the traps in a different place, and not long after I heard what sounded like one of them going off.  About 20 minutes after that, I found the rat by the entryway door.

I feel like a murderous monster.  I'm usually the type who carries harmless spiders outside.

I texted a photograph of the dead rat to my ex because the infestation has been a topic of ongoing concern.

"Eww.  Nicely done!" was the reply I received.

I still felt terrible.

I was then informed The Ex signed a lease on a new apartment, but won't get the keys the end of July.  When I looked at the calendar, I realized that means the move-out will happen on the a month after our fifth wedding anniversary.  Just about a year after asking for a divorce, The Ex will be gone.

Happy anniversary, I guess.

Why I am Getting Divorced

This is a post I've debated writing for a long, long time.  Back when I started this blog and I mentioned my family, I decided to mostly leave them out.  I did this for reasons of privacy, as I didn't want to post too much personally identifying information here for the world to see.

Also, I figured that my weight loss journey was really my journey and didn't really include members of my immediate family in anything more than providing a context for my adventures.  This blog was supposed to be about me and my weight loss, not them.

And so, I referred to my former spouse as "The Wife," and my adopted child as "The Kid."

Long time readers might remember that when I started this blog, I referred to my former spouse as "The SO."  I posted about that change back in July of 2008 when we got married.  One little (or perhaps not-so-little) detail that I have consciously omitted is the following:

My ex is a male-to-female transsexual.

So why didn't I mention this six years ago when I started my blog?  I didn't think it was important or relevant to my weight loss journey.  Granted, blogging about my transgendered spouse might have given me far more interesting blog fodder, bit it didn't seem really connected to the topic.

Why have I decided to write about this now?

Recently, I stumbled across Christine Benvenuto's book Sex Changes: A Memoir of Marriage, Gender, and Moving On.  When I read the book, I was so taken by it that I read it in a single sitting.  Though the circumstances of Ms. Benvenuto's marriage and mine are substantially different, her story struck a chord with me.

While reading her book, I realized just how darned alone spouses, ex-spouses, and soon-to-be ex spouses of transgendered people really are.  There are very few resources out there for people in our incredibly unique positions.  The subject matter is so sensitive that many people do not feel safe talking to family or friends about the issues that can arise.

So I decided it was time that I talk about this.

My silence on this topic is reflective of how sensitive this issue can be.  I didn't want to come out as a spouse of a transgendered person for fear of the possible reprisals I might face.

Now I realize that most people will read this post and immediately see the reason my ex-husband and I are divorcing, I feel it's important to say that it's not quite as simple as one might think.  When my ex and I met, I knew he was transgendered.  I knew he was a biological male, living and working as a female.

I didn't mind that.

When we got together, we had a great many long talks about his plans for transition.  He had already changed his name, was taking hormones, and living full-time as a woman.  He thought (as did I) that would be enough to solve his lifetime struggles with gender dysphoria.  He told me that he didn't want to have SRS (Sex Reassignment Surgery).  That was a critical point for me, as I'm fundamentally not a lesbian.

Since he didn't want surgery, we embarked on what turned out to be a 14-year relationship where I ostensibly was living with a woman.  I treated her as female even though she often exhibited some decidedly male characteristics.

Unfortunately, my ex changed her mind about surgery.  Knowing full well that SRS was a deal-breaker for me, she decided she wanted the operation and asked me for a divorce.

I didn't want the divorce.  We talked, we discussed, and we spent endless hours negotiating on this topic.  In the end, I agreed I would agree to relinquish my sex life and continue on in a sexless marriage so that she could have the surgery she so desperately wanted.

Even that wasn't enough for my ex.  In the end, she decided she wanted to have surgery and strike up a sexual relationship with an as-yet-unidentified biological male.  (This means she wants to sleep with a man at some point, but hasn't found one yet as far as I know.)

Since it's not like I could close my eyes, push really hard, and grow a penis, our marriage was over.

Now it's probably not fair to blame everything on my ex's transsexuality.  There were other things that contributed to our failure as well.  There were enormous fights over our extremely troubled kid, money, gun ownership and work.  Still, I think all of these things could have been compromised upon eventually.

In the end, my ex's need to cut off her penis and her desire to have sex with men outweighed the value of our relationship.  That was an extremely painful realization, because the topic of SRS did come up a number of times during our time together.  When we reached certain milestones in our lives that deepened our entanglements, emotionally, socially and financially, I always paused to ask, "Are you sure about your decision not to have surgery?"

The question was raised when we decided to start a business together, when we bought a house, when we decided to become foster parents, when we decided to adopt, and when we got married.

Each time, the ex told me that she was sure.  We started the business, we bought the house, we got married, we adopted a child and we financed vehicles.  We did many of the things most married couples did.  We continued on until one day, she simply wanted out.

The worst part?  The worst part was that she told me she had always wanted surgery.  She hadn't been truthful with me from the very start.

When I asked the very obvious question, why weren't you honest with me from the beginning? Her answer left me reeling.

"I had hoped those feelings would just go away."

They didn't go away.  Worse, the beginnings of my ex's mid-life crisis only intensified them.  Now that we had a business, a house, a kid and all the trappings of a middle-class life that she pushed for, she wanted out.

She asked me for the divorce last July.  We waited to separate and divorce because we agreed it would be better to wait until The Kid turned 18 this coming October.  We'd even talked about staying together until The Kid graduated high school, though we never definitively agreed upon that.

Despite our plans to stay together until The Kid turned 18, The Ex changed her mind.

She is currently looking for an apartment, and plans to move out as soon as practical after the school year ends.  The Kid, who suffers from mental illness, has violently attacked me on a number of occasions.  It's not safe for me to live alone with such a troubled child, so she will live with The Ex who is more physically capable of restraining her if needed.

While The Ex has found a new job and will move off into her new apartment in the relatively near future, I am stuck with many of the financial responsibilities of the life we had together.  The Ex decided she would just let the house foreclose if I didn't take over, so I'll be taking over responsibility for it.  Likewise, I'll be taking over a vehicle loan, and our small business.

Though our decisions make sense, I can't help but feel as if she's walking out of here to start a new life, while I'm left behind dealing with the wreckage of our old one.  There are many decisions we made along the way that I wouldn't have made, if I had known she wanted surgery.  I wouldn't have bought a house, gotten married, or adopted a child had I seen this coming.  She knew, and yet she withheld a very important piece of information from me.

In the end, I guess the reason why I am getting divorced boils down to one thing: The Ex wanted it.

As much as I wanted to stay married, The Ex did not.  A marriage takes two people, and when one is committed to leaving there isn't much the other can do to prevent it.

And yes, we tried counseling.  We even went to a counselor who specialized in stopping divorce.  It didn't work.  After two sessions, The Ex refused to continue.  She was done.  It no longer mattered that she'd made promises regarding our relationship, our home, our child or anything else.  She just wanted out.

At this point, we've signed a get (Jewish divorce document) but we have yet to file for our civil divorce.  The Ex has agreed to stay married until I can be covered by her new job's health insurance.  I'll lose my small group coverage through my business as you need a minimum of two people for small group coverage.  Since she is leaving the business, I no longer have the required number of insured.

Once I am covered by my ex's insurance, we'll file for divorce, and I'll be able to continue my insurance coverage under COBRA.  Once the Obamacare health insurance plans become available in January, I'll look at getting my own insurance, which might be less expensive.

So the logistics are pretty much worked out.  We will prepare our own divorce agreement and try to do as much as possible without attorneys.

There it is.

I didn't want a divorce, but we are done.  While a part of me is worried about the future, there's a part of me that's actually glad The Ex asked me for a divorce.  Since all of this has unfolded, The Ex has done some things that I think are pretty darn despicable, regardless of our marital status.  I guess it's better to see the true light of The Ex's character now, rather than finding out in another 10 or 20 years.

So that, dear readers, is why I am getting divorced.

Trending in the Right Direction

I know I've been terrible about posting here, and I guess I don't really have a good excuse other than the very lame, "I've been busy."

And yes, I've been busy, but that's not really all of it.

Much has changed since my last post, and things seem to be trending in the right direction.

My weight is down, though I haven't really been trying very hard.  The furnace didn't die, and the STBX calmed down and found a job.

The STBX will now be referred to as the "ex." We signed our religious divorce papers, so as far as I'm concerned, the relationship is over.  We are still waiting on the civil divorce proceeding, since remaining married for just a bit longer will make it easier and cheaper for me to maintain my health insurance coverage.

I'm glad for that, because even though I've lost over 50 pounds, I'm still too fat to qualify for a standard individual health insurance policy.  Since the ex has decided to leave our business as well as our marriage, it means that the business will switch to a sole proprietorship with no employees and I will lose eligibility for group, guaranteed-issue, health insurance.

Now, the plus is that I'm eligible to be covered under the ex's new insurance at work.  Once we file for divorce, I'll continue to carry it under COBRA, at least until the new insurance rules take effect here in California in January 2014.

Although some people have a lot negative to say about the new Obamacare health insurance rules, it will help me.  I'll be able to buy a guaranteed-issue policy at standard rates, regardless of my weight.

Speaking of my weight, I'm down a bit.  This morning I was 209 lbs. I'm still obese, but I've managed to drop a total of three pant sizes from my top weight.  I've gone from barely being able to slip into a size 24 to noticing that my size 18s are starting to get a little loose.

I'd say things are trending in the right direction.  The ex is sleeping on the sofa and will move out (along with The Kid) as soon as the school year finishes.  My weight is still dropping, even though I'm not trying very hard, given all the turmoil in my life.

I guess I'm in pretty good shape for the shape I'm in.

Broken

There are a lot of things around the house right now that are broken.

Number one, I think, is my scale.  Now, I can't say that I am complaining about it all that much.  The numbers are showing in a downward direction, which I like.  What I don't like is the fact that it seems to be weighing me a good eight pounds lower than what the scale on my Wii says.

Bathroom scale makes me happier, so I'm going to stick with that weight for now.  This morning it was 211.8.

In addition to the flaky bathroom scale, I think the furnace is dying and we had to have a repair guy come to work on the dishwasher.

Why did the dishwasher die?  The Kid hasn't been rinsing the dishes.  No damn wonder why the dishes aren't coming out right.

Oh well, $136 is cheaper than the cost of a new dishwasher.

The stress around here is pretty palpable.  The STBX threatened scorched-earth divorce proceedings because I wouldn't okay a $300 purchase for camping equipment right now.

Okay, let's look at this from a rational point of view, shall we?

The STBX is only working part time.  We are getting divorced.  Someone is going to get stuck with a house that is worth at least $50,000 less than what is owed on the mortgage, with 22 years left on the loan.

This is the time to spend more money?

I don't think so.

I suggested the STBX use one of the sleeping bags we already had.  The STBX agreed, and spent the night sleeping in a tent in the back yard testing out the bag.  I spent the night in the house where it was warm.

I didn't find sleeping alone as distressing as I thought it would be.

Of course the truth is, I've been sleeping alone for over four months.  Granted, we are still sleeping in the same bed, but it might as well be as if we were sleeping on two different planets.

Survived the Holidays

Well, I survived the holidays.

Here it is, January 17, and I'm just a bit down from where I was when I posted last.  Given that the holidays are always a difficult time for dieters, I guess I can say that I survived.

The fact that I didn't put on a ton of weight makes me happy.

And now that it is January, I feel even more pressure to be thin.

My weight this morning: 217.4

That's not stunning progress, given that it's been a couple of months since I last posted.  Still, I'm happy because I survived the holiday season and I still weigh just a tiny bit less than I did at the start of it.

I can't complain at all.

The STBX and I are still maintaining.  It's a very weird situation -- continuing to live with someone who is now on their way to becoming an ex isn't easy, but it's not as hard as one might think.  I guess the hardest part for me is being stuck in a netherworld between being in a relationship and being out of one.

I'm still legally married, so I am not free to seek a new relationship.  Even so, the marriage is over and it's has been months since there has been any physical intimacy.  It's an odd and somewhat unhappy existence, being forced into this place of involuntary celibacy, without having the option to do anything about it.

Oh, sure, I have options, I guess.  I could go out and have an affair.  The STBX has invited me to do this many times.

But I'm not a cheater.  I don't want to commit adultery.  So I'll wait.

I try not to think about the fact that The Kid won't turn 18 for nearly another 9 months, and it will be another 6 months after that until our divorce is final.  To think that it will be another 15 months before I'll even have the chance of hearing someone saying "I love you," or being physically close seems really overwhelming.

And then again, I expect that it will be even longer than that.  I don't expect to find someone right away.

So right now, I'm just trying to focus on getting those numbers down on the scale.  Thinner, I'll have a lot more dating options than I do now.

A Quick Status Update

So this morning my weight was 222.8 lbs.  I'm still tantalizingly close to my low weight, but I just can't seem to budge things.

I'm trying not to worry about it too much; I've got a lot of stressful things going on in my life at the moment.

It dawned on me a couple of days ago that I have less than a year to master a set of job skills that took the STBX probably 25 years to get to the level she's at.  I'm feeling overwhelmed, because I know that's not possible.  I'm trying to pick off the most important things and the low-hanging fruit, and I keep telling myself that her skill set only amounts to about 10-20% of the total workload for my main client.

I'll be okay.  I really will.

I keep telling myself that.

But boy, is it tough to believe it during my low points.

I did get a small spot of good news, though.  I just found out that the contract for my main client has been extended for another year.  It's a huge relief knowing that I won't have to be going through a divorce and worrying about finding a new job or client around the same time.

It's all good.

It's the Little Things that Really Hurt

Although the STBX and I do fight, and sometimes quite a lot, I find that it's not the big blow-ups that really hurt.  Now I'll be the first one to say that I don't like living in a situation where screaming arguments bubble up like a volcano in the middle of our living room.  However, it's not the really huge fights that seem to really hurt.

Big fights tend to clear the air.  Pooled resentments are vented and issues are addressed head-on.  I don't like the fight, but sometimes I feel better afterward.

What hurts more than a fight are the tiny, ego-crushing moments that happen on a daily basis.  These are the things that sting.  These are the things that do more damage to my psyche and to the relationship than anything else.

Today's ego-crushing moment:

In addition to my day job, I am also a writer.  One of the few things left that is still good with The STBX is my writing.  When I finish a piece, I'll share it, and The STBX will give me feedback.  Even when we are fighting, even when we are hurt, this is still one thing that has always been good.

Until this morning.

This morning, I asked The STBX if she wanted to hear my latest.  She said yes, so I began to read.  I got to a part in my manuscript that I thought was very funny, and she didn't laugh.  It surprised me, because we tend to share the same sense of humor.

I stopped reading, mid-sentence, and waited.

After what seemed like the longest time, The STBX said, "Mmm-hmm."

I pulled my eyes away from my screen and I looked over at her.  What did I see?

She was reading a magazine, and hadn't been listening to anything I'd read.

Wow.

A Countdown to Divorce.

Oh good grief.

It's the middle of October already.  How did that happen?  Last time I posted, it was the end of August. How did so much time go by?

Well I'm still wrestling with the same few pounds I was in August.  Down 2, up 1, down 1, up 3.  Frustrating.  I'm hovering in this 6lb window that I can't seem to get out of.  Up, down.  Up, down.

Quite a bit has happened in the last few weeks.

The Wife and I are getting divorced, though I think you already knew that.  She told me this in July.  Then she told me she didn't want a divorce.  Then she did.  Then she didn't, but she couldn't see any alternative.  Two weeks ago, in our therapy session, she took off her ring.

Then she put it back on.

So here's the reality: We are waiting until The Kid's 18th birthday and then one of us will be filing for divorce.

Now I want to say that I don't think The Wife is a bad person.  What I will say is that she's done a great many things both recently and over the years, that make me realize that this relationship isn't sustainable.

So now we are on a countdown to divorce.  Unless something dramatically changes, I expect to be filing for divorce on October 14, 2013.  That's exactly one year from today.

From now on, this blog will be about a great deal more than just weight loss.  It's going to be about transforming my life so that I can be successful and happy.  It will be about living with my STBX (soon-to-be-ex) for a year.

And once the divorce is done, it will be about trying to find true love in my late 40s.

I'm taking a very deep breath.

Trying to Hold on to Optimism

It's been a rough few days.

This morning, I spent a good while crying.  I'm sad for a whole bunch of reasons, most of which are connected, directly or indirectly, with my upcoming divorce.

I am finding that it is hard to be in a lame duck marriage.

Nothing has changed, really.  We are still doing everything as we once did.  The Wife still cooks dinner.  We eat together.  We still sleep in the same bed, though now separated by a gulf on separate sides.

From all outward appearances, nothing has changed.

And yet, everything has changed.

It's hard.

I am trying to hold on to optimism.  I keep reminding myself this too shall pass.  I know that everything will work out for the best.  I've had many bad things happen to me in my life, and this is a lot less terrible than many of them.

Still, I feel like a part of me dies a little each day.

I want someone to love me.

Is that so much to ask?

Apparently so.

A Pound From My Low

This morning I stepped on the scale and discovered that I was a pound away from the lowest weight I can remember recording on this blog.  It made me happy to see that number, but I was a little disappointed I didn't see the lowest number.

Maybe that will happen later in the week.  It would be nice.

I've been eating precious little of late because my appetite has been off.  I know some folks tend to drown themselves in food when they are stressed.  If I'm slightly stressed, I'll admit to having the urge to munch.  If I'm really stressed, my insides just curl up and rebel at the thought of food.  It doesn't matter if I'm feeling genuinely hungry, my stomach rolls up into a ball and gets queasy at the idea of having to digest something.

I suppose it's bad for my overall health, but great for the diet.

This morning it took me over 30 minutes to choke down a bowl of yogurt decorated with a handful of blueberries and raspberries.

What's wrong with me?  Normally I love this breakfast.

I guess the truth is that it's all stress generated by the thought of my upcoming divorce.

Now The Wife has backed down from her earlier deadline.  She had said she would give things until the end of the year.  Now, we've worked out an agreement to where we'll stay together the remaining year and a bit until The Kid turns 18.  That will certainly make things easier, as divorce with minor children involved gets very complicated.  This way, we'll be able to write our own divorce settlement and get the entire thing out of the way as quickly and cheaply as possible.

The Wife also says she's willing to work on things, but I am not sure it's possible.  I think we've reached an epistemological abyss that cannot be bridged.  It's not that The Wife is a bad person.  It's not that I'm a bad person.  It's just that we are disagreeing on some pretty fundamental issues, and finding that there aren't positions of compromise.

Basically it boils down to the fact that The Wife wants to do x, where x is something to which I have some pretty significant moral objections.  I don't want x in my life, and she does, and there really isn't a way to meet in the middle.

Now I should point out that x isn't anything illegal.  Perhaps if I were a better person, I wouldn't object to it.  However, it's something that makes me feel emotionally and physically unsafe, and I don't want it in my life.  The Wife does.

Of course x isn't the only problem in our relationship.  There are a great many others, including an absolute lack of a sex life.  In years past, it didn't matter, because my hypothyroidism had so completely squelched my sex drive.  Now I'm interested, but I don't have a partner who is all that willing.

I don't want a divorce.  Unfortunately, I also don't see any alternatives.

I suppose in my mind I am becoming more accepting of the idea of ultimately going our separate ways. A few days ago, I found myself drawn to several online (free) dating sites, where I scanned the personal ads.  I didn't sign up for an account, and I didn't respond to anyone, but I did see a profile of one man that made my heart go pitter-patter for a moment.

I had to remind myself that I am not single, I am not free to date, and if I'm meant to be with any particular man, he'll still be single and I'll find him in a year and a half from now.  I somewhat reluctantly closed my browser window.  I found myself looking for the same man again this morning, but I didn't find his profile before I was asked to sign up.

I'm not signing up on a dating site until I really am single.  Still, my libido-gone-into-hyperdrive has had me fantasizing about a new boyfriend/lover almost non-stop for days.

When I was younger, I never understood why people cheated on their spouses.  I thought they were scummy, weak-willed people with an equal measure of no morals and no sense of decency.

Now, though I still think infidelity is still absolutely wrong, I understand why some people are driven to cheat.  The absolute loneliness and despair I feel in my marriage right now is overwhelming.

Another Long Absence

There are times in your life where things take a turn and you just don't know quite what to say.

I am there now.

It seems that, after being together for 13 years, The Wife and I are on a collision course with divorce.

And yes, we have to get a divorce because we are legally married.  We are one of the 18,000 couples that married in California during the short time that same-sex marriage was legal.

At the moment, I live on a unique island.  Once I step off, I won't be allowed back on, even if I wanted to re-marry the person I am with today.

At this point, I don't know what's going to happen.  Things came to a head last month, when The Wife told me she wanted a divorce.  Coincidentally, the day happened to mark the exact anniversary of the date we temporarily separated 12 years earlier.  We managed to get back together then.  I'm not sure it will happen now.

In fairness, I should say that The Wife's desire for a divorce is not a total surprise.  We have been having problems for a while, and we've come to the point where we both recognize that we have reached an epistemological abyss.  We have some differences that seem irreconcilable.  She wants certain things in her life that I do not, and vice versa.  On some of these issues, there isn't a compromise position or a halfway point where we can meet in the middle.

I see a divorce as inevitable at this point.  It's not what I want, and The Wife has said it's not what she wants, either.  Unfortunately, the irreconcilable differences remain, and they aren't of a nature that we can simply agree to disagree.

The Wife is now looking for a job.  She's agreed to postpone making her final decision until the end of this year.  I wish she would wait for a full year.  By then, The Kid will be 18, and we won't have to deal with the headache of visitation, support payments, etc.

Sure, getting it over with now would probably hurt less, but it would create a whole lot of disruption for The Kid.  She has been a profoundly troubled child, so I know that a divorce will only make things worse.  Sadly, her troubles have included suicidal thoughts, violent rages, and physical assaults against both The Wife and myself.  As much as it pains me to say it, we are looking forward to the relief that will come when she becomes a legal adult and we are no longer responsible for her.

There's only a year left...

But that doesn't really matter.  That's the unfortunate part to no-fault divorce.  If one party wants it, the remaining spouse can do little to stop the process.  I see the wisdom in the law, as it isn't right to trap people in marriages they don't want, but it seems sad that a union created by both parties can be ended by one.

So now I'm faced with all the worries that face most divorcing couples, though our situation is slightly different.  Most couples fight bitterly over what they want to keep.  Our disagreements are over what we don't.  We own a home together, with an accompanying mortgage, and the real estate slump has left us in a position where we owe more than it is worth.  The house is old and run-down, in a neighborhood with increasing crime, so neither of us want to stay.

Although the possible end of a relationship and all the accompanying financial difficulties are on my mind, the issue that looms even larger is this question:

Will I find myself alone for the remainder of my life?

My relationship status is complicated by the fact I've never really identified as lesbian.  I've considered myself queer, because I've been in a unique relationship with The Wife that I'm not sure I would want to repeat.  Although I'd be content to remain where I am if there were a way to resolve our differences, I don't see myself as being interested in dating women in the future.

I think most people are probably bisexual given the right man or the right woman.  Certainly it was the case with me, as I've been living with a woman for the past 13 years.

I know, call me a traitor to the lesbian community, but there it is.

So, here I am, almost 47 years old, morbidly obese, and interested in men.  I fear I am going to end up like Plankton, the UK woman who would very much like to have a man in her life but has been so far unable to do so.  She, at least, has the advantage of being HWP (height-weight proportionate) which I clearly do not.

My mother and father divorced more than 20 years ago when she was in her 50's.  She has never found a partner, though she has claimed she didn't want another.  I can't imagine spending the the last decades of my life alone and lonely, which is what I know I am facing.  The odds aren't good for single women pushing 50, and I'm sure they are even lower for ones who aren't pretty.

And the sad thing is, even if I were thin, it wouldn't fix anything.  In objective terms, even when I was very young, I was never pretty.  After I graduated from high school, I was rarely asked out, or even looked at by anyone of the opposite sex.  And now, with a history of being a lesbian, guys will want me to do threesomes.  No thanks.  I am so painfully monogamous it hurts.

When I found myself single at age 30, I was dateless and celibate for almost three years.  Finally, I cast myself into the online dating pool.  I managed to go on quite a few dates, but they were all disasters.  Some of the problem, I can fairly blame on my weight.  At the time, my BMI teetered right on the fine line between being overweight and obese, and many men just don't like fat chicks.  On one particularly horrible date, I had a man actually berate me about my size over dinner.

The dates were bad.  One guy spent our date complaining about his terrible life.  Another just turned and walked off, leaving me speechless, in the middle of the date.  Another bluntly told me he wasn't physically attracted to me and didn't want to see me again.  (He did get points for honesty, though it still hurt.) Another met me for dinner at a Mexican food restaurant, but decided he didn't want to eat.  He stared at me like I was a hippo, while I nibbled on the chips.  I was starving, and I didn't feel right ordering dinner when he wasn't eating.

There was only one man who asked me out on a second date.  He was much older than me, but I thought he was charming and sweet, and we shared some common interests.  It was on that fateful second date that he told me he was a sadist looking for a slave.  His idea of a good time, he told me, was to give his woman a sound whipping.  I ended up in tears by the end of the evening.

Now I am open-minded, and I do have friends who participate in various fetish communities, but I'm not into receiving pain.  Needless to say, I passed on his offer.  Interestingly enough, we did remain platonic friends for quite a few years.  For a sadist, he was a heck of a nice guy.

It was at that point I decided to give up.  I figured I was doomed to be forever single.

I ended up meeting The Wife online one evening.  I made an offhand remark in a chat room that I needed a wife, and the next thing I knew we were off sending private messages to each other.  I had to instantly confront what had just come out of my mouth.  Since my relationships with men (I'd been married once and in two other long-term relationships) all seemed to end with failure, it occurred to me that I might try switching teams.  What started as simply a stupid, offhand joke, turned into a relationship of 13 years.

So after my nightmare dating experiences in my 30s, I'm not sure I can expect anything better now that I'm in my 40s.

The idea is terrifying.

Faced the knowledge that I will want to seek out a new relationship, the need to lose weight seems even more urgent.  On the plus side, a recent change to my thyroid medication has finally made it relatively easy to lose weight.  After gaining a bit from my low at the end of 2010, I'm now within two or three pounds of that weight again.  My jeans are loose, and by the end of the day the denim stretches and they are slipping down.

Sadly, I still haven't been able to get into any of my smaller pairs of pants.

The weight is coming off, and I'm not having to try very hard anymore.  No more walking around starving to death in order to lose half a pound in a week.  That's great, and I'm happy about that.

The last change in my thyroid medication has finally repaired my health.  I feel good for the first time in years.  The great part is that an end has been put to the weight gain, hair loss, lethargy and brain fog.  The bad part is that my libido has come back with a vengeance.

I suspect I have been hypothyroid for most of my adult life.  Certainly I've had symptoms, and my sex drive has always been extremely low.  It is only now that I understand why people do absolutely crazy things for sex.  I never understood the phrase, sex is a powerful motivator, until now.

Perhaps it's just karma coming to bite me on the ass.  In the past, when I was with my male partners, I just wasn't all that interested.  I frequently turned them down, which I know contributed to the problems we had in our relationships.  I wonder if I'm now getting to experience how my frustrated ex-boyfriends and ex-husband must have felt.  Sorry.

Is there really a cosmic payback for past bad behavior?  Who knows.  I just find it ironic, during the only time I've ever been really interested in sex, that I don't have an enthusiastic partner.

I should probably say, because I know some nice gent will offer, I'm not looking for a boyfriend until my divorce is final.  I may be a lot of things, but I'm definitely not a cheater.  I figure I've earned plenty of bad karma for the stupid stuff I've done over the years as it is.  I don't need to go out and do something I know is wrong to earn more of it, even though I might be sad and lonely right now.

I really want to be in a relationship where I am loved.  I want a relationship where I can give love.  I want a relationship in which I can enjoy a satisfying and passionate sex life.  I want a relationship where I can live and grow old with someone,  I want a relationship where I can be intimate and vulnerable with another person, and where we know each other so well we can finish each other's sentences.

I am scared to death it will never happen.