2009-04-06

Asking for help.

So that other shoe I was talking about?

It fell. Boy did it fall.

7 years ago, when I knew I had to quit drinking, I had a decision to make regarding this website. Do I talk about it? Do I let people in on this very big, very scary thing that's happening to me, when I have this reputation for writing wacky, fluffy little stories about my pop-culture-obsessed life? Would people care? Would people stop reading?

I decided to write about it. And it helped me immensely.

And so now I've got to let people in on this. It's huge. It has brought me to my knees, and I have to put it up here, and hope that it helps me again.

Kevin and I are getting a divorce.

There. I said it.

I know...I KNOW that this is going to be a really awful blow to a lot of people. And I'm truly sorry that some of you are finding out this way. I hope you will forgive me if I did not personally contact you about this. It's barely been a week, and I am just getting my wits about me.

I understand that to most of our friends and acquaintances, Kevin and I were "the perfect couple." This is something that could never happen to us. But it has. And if there's anything that I've learned in my life, and in my recovery, it's that I can't know what goes on behind closed doors. I don't judge anyone's relationship, but more importantly, I don't idealize, either. I've been the shocked friend on the other end of the phone. I've been the one crying: "But WHY? You guys are SO GOOD TOGETHER."

What you need to know is this: we love each other. We tried. We are two friends that simply happen to be married, and the marriage doesn't work. There's just no other way I can put it. There are issues that just can't be explained here, and out of love and respect for Kevin, I am not going to explain them here.

I am sad. I am devastated. I'm not angry. Maybe that will come in time.

I am plagued with guilt and "what if" and "I should have." But mostly, I'm frightened. I am absolutely terrified. I jerk awake at 3 in the morning, filled with fear. Because my mind is putting me in terrible places. I am convinced that I'm going to wind up living in a car (and my mother, bless her, has told me this can't happen, "because you don't drive, sweetie...you would have to HAVE a car before you could live in it.") or living in a refrigerator box, with Foot-Foot on a leash. For the first time in 11 years, I have to face living alone.

Kevin and I call each other by our first names. I can't tell you how much this sucks.

Boy howdy, thank GOD I'm sober for this, and therefore have at least an inkling here and there of what to do. And what I have to do is ask for help. And ask, and ask, and ask. I am so blessed to have friends that I can call in the middle of the night when I'm in the full horrifying mental throttle of the Refrigerator Box Scenario. I am trying not to abuse that privilege.

I have friends who are further along than I on this road. Lynette, who's fairly recently divorced. Susan, who goes to court in June. Vikki and Katie and Jess. I'm so sorry that this happened to them. I GET how fucking terrible this is. But I am so glad that they understand. And as Lynette assured me, "I am at the finish line, and I am waiting for you."

My God.

So here's the other thing I have to mention, and I know that I'm going to get funny looks. We are still living together. This weekend, we turned this into a two-bedroom apartment. I don't exactly know how I mustered the courage and wherewithal to make this happen, but I knew that 1) we certainly could NOT sleep in the same bed, and 2) Kevin was not going to sleep in the living room (as he offered). So I made it happen.

This is the way it has to be, for at least a few months. Neither of us can afford to carry this place on our own, and neither of us can afford to move. Some of you may not be able to understand that. Some of you may feel that one of us has to get out of here. We don't hate each other. There are no bad guys here. We have committed to help each other through this, and we each now have a space to go to, and close the door if need be. All I can say is that it's working okay for us right now.

I am forcing -- FORCING -- myself to get up, shower, put on nice clothes. It's like some future, stronger version of myself has flown in from the coast to tell me to brush my teeth.

Eating....not so much. It's really, REALLY hard to eat. Lynette told me she lost 25 pounds. I can't afford to lose even 10, really. I'm living on toast, egg noodles, energy bars and Carnation Instant Breakfast right now. Stuff that's easy to deal with.

And by God, I have been on my phone, asking for help. I have been in my meetings, asking for help. I got a new sponsor and am going right back to Step One, because I need to do this for myself because otherwise, I am going to completely crumble. I don't want to drink over this. I can't drink over this. I am not going to throw away close to seven years of sobriety over this.

I have to tell you that this is going to become Lisa's Divorce Chronicles for a good long while. And if that's going to be a drag for you, I will more than understand if you choose not to drop in anymore. But if you want to stick around, I'm more than grateful to know that you're out there, reading.

And I am once again asking for help. My biggest fear is that after a few weeks, when this is not as fresh and raw to the rest of my little world, I won't get the cheery emails, the offers to call no matter what time, the advice. I don't even feel worthy of the help I'm already getting. I have to apologize every time I call someone as it is.

I'm so scared.

I need kind words, good vibes, whatever it is you put out into the universe. And I will take prayers, gladly. I need stories from people who've walked in this unbelievably dark and frightening place. I need advice. I need phone calls, emails, a cheap place to live near public transportation that takes cats and isn't a hovel. I need a loan. I need to know that eventually, someone will find this nearly-40 divorced neurotic recovering alcoholic lovable. I need friends, love, reassurance, dirty jokes. I need these things right now, I will need them next month, and I will still need some of them a year from now. I have to believe it's all out there for me, as long as I keep asking.

lisamcc at 6:42 a.m.



15 comments so far
scurvyann
2009-04-06 14:02:12
wow. just...wow. no wait a minute...also - WHOAH. huge hugs and the humungousest of greatest of vibes being transmitted to you right now. lees, i'm sorry you are going through this. you're a tough broad and you'll come out the other side stronger and good-er, i have no doubt. call me any time you need, and i will sing that song about todd spahr's ass for you. it has magical healing powers. (the song, AND t.s's ass.) xoxo
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ska-t
2009-04-06 15:02:39
it takes one to know one, Lisa. i've been bleating about separations and breakups for eons... and it's murder. but you live. at the bottomline, it's another step in the right direction, though it doesn't seem like it, now. eat something real, OK?
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PK
2009-04-06 15:50:13
When I come to town, we're going for curry fries, goddammit. And you will eat them if I have to pin you down and shove every last one down your gullet. Hm. That's kinda hawt and dominatrixy. I'll bring the baby too. We can shave it.
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PK
2009-04-06 15:51:43
You know what two words your asshole CAPTCHA had me type in? "Change" and "certain!" I swear! That fucking thing is haunted. HAUNTED.
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Spooney
2009-04-06 15:59:50
I'm so sorry to hear about it, Lisa. You know I've been down that road & it sucks & it's scary, but it will get better. I'll probably be seeing Spahr's ass this week. I'll give it a good pinch & say it's from you.
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Honey
2009-04-06 16:12:10
Damn. I'm sorry to hear that. Wish I could help.
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andrea
2009-04-07 00:45:21
Oh Lisa. Shit. I am so sorry. I am sending you lots of love and strength. If you ever need a weekend away, come to Maine and the World's Most Unfinished Guestroom (four years running) and I'll ply you with lobster rolls and whoopie pies. I'm serious as fuck. Anytime. Concord Trailways (I KNOW, but still. Free pretzels) or we'll pick your ass up.
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Lynette
2009-04-07 05:09:12
Holy crap you have balls the size of the STATE I LIVE IN, girl. I think living this out loud will help someone. Doesn't help YOU at the moment maybe. But your honesty will help some poor terrified person who reads this. I know PK and Jess and I and a bunch of others wish we didn't live so far away. We all have your back. You gots the numbah. And I'm glad you're using it. HUGE HUGE HUGE love to you. And Kevin.
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Cheryl
2009-04-07 13:28:26
I'm so sorry Lisa - that really sucks. Hang in there.
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ska-t
2009-04-07 15:00:36
you've been "darted": http://singlelensreflex.vox.com/library/post/premio-dardo.html
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voodoo
2009-04-07 16:18:16
I don't think there's anything I can say that hasn't already been said or sounds so trite, but I am thinking of you.
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kellie
2009-04-07 16:32:41
You are going to be OK. And you are going to be funny, cute, sober, everything you are now - with an added layer. I think the 2 of you are being incredibly smart and responsible to each other in your handling of this. Have a good cry when you need it and keep focused on doing what's best for you and Foot Foot. Much love sent your way from California.
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Jess
2009-04-07 18:57:11
Don't worry about us not being her in the weeks & months to come. We're all just a phone call or an email away. Always.
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Rebecca H.
2009-04-07 20:38:37
Support here from a stranger. I've been reading your blog for about a year or so, and I actually see you from time to time waiting for the T in the afternoons after work. I've never approached you because dude, were I in your place that would freak me out to no end. But should better sense compel me to demonstrate in some act of sympathy and you are in no mood, feel free to avoid the bespectacled, hat wearing, 30-something knitting woman who usually gets on at Mass Ave around 5:20.
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vikkitikkitavi
2009-04-07 20:53:05
I think you are behaving admirably. And as far as I'm concerned, this blog/diary is a perfectly legitimate way to check in on my friend that I'm thinking about a lot right now. You know, it's just like we're sitting in some restaurant and you're telling me this over a cup of coffee. Except I don't have to wash my hair. BTW, I am going to send you a link to a little story on my breakup that was published online.
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