Day 61: I suck at this

So, of course, the day after I promise to be on here to post at least my shameless acts, everything goes crazy. Granted, I needed the break anyway, since I was starting to feel like the chick in the car commercial ("That's not a real puppy"), but still.

So, I've had a couple epiphanies here in the past few days regarding this whole divorce thing. I know ya'll are all probably sick to death of hearing about it, but this is pretty much the only way I can get it out anymore.

1. Despite everything he's saying, I don't think R's doing this for Boogie anymore. He can say he is until he's blue in the face, but if that were true, he wouldn't have lied the way he did on the paperwork, nor would he have included what he did. He's made this personal. Why, I don't know. I still don't know what it is that I could possibly have done to him to make him hate me so much; but, sadly, there's still a part of me that wishes I knew just so I could "fix" things. I know there's no chance of that happening, but I still have to hold out whatever hope I can. It's just kind of part of my DNA at this point.

2. I'm SOOOO not ready for this. I thought I would be, but I'm not. I don't have the money for an attorney, as R well knows. Part of me still doesn't even want this damn divorce. I don't even know what to do anymore. I feel like I'm just going in circles at this point, and I RREEEEEAAAAALLLLLLLYYY freaking hate it. I know what I could do, but I don't want this divorce to get any uglier than R's already made it, and I don't want to give him any reason to accuse me of any more bull than he already has.

I just keep hoping (as immature as this is going to sound) that he's going to wake up and realize that what he's doing is wrong.... Then again, I spent practically our entire relationship doing just that, so I don't suppose it's going to change now.

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In other news, I'm going to go a little out of order, and tell ya'll about my #6 Shameless Act. "Act “girly” or “manly” in a way you’d normally avoid."

I didn't do it on purpose, since it happened before Halloween, even, but it's probably the girliest moment I've ever had. Definitely not my shining moment of bravado.

Sasquatch, Scrappy, Monkey, and Biscuit invited me to go to a Haunted House with them and a few other friends the Friday before Halloween. I hadn't been to one in a few years, so I was all for it. We got there, and realized that it was actually split into two separate sections. The main Horror section, which was pretty cool. Scary, definitely, but not too bad. Though I'll admit, I jumped sky high when the required chain saw guy came at me, and I almost knocked down one of the guys that came with us.

Then there was the other section.... "Dark Matter". 3D Paint - manageable. Blacklights - annoying, but tolerable. .... And clowns. ... Fucking. Clowns. Which I don't care for on a normal day. But. Me being me, I just had to try. Worst. Idea. EVER.

My 3D glasses kept slipping off, before we even got inside, so I just left them off after the first 2 or 3 minutes. The entrance wasn't too bad, just a guy jumping out with some glowy glasses. Then there was the rotating tunnel that you have to walk through that typically throws you completely off balance. It wasn't too bad, but Monkey was holding onto me so tightly, and I was in the lead, that he kept pulling me into the rails.

Then came the part that REALLY messed me up. As soon as the first clown came out, I screamed, but I figured I'd be okay. NOT. Let me just sideline and explain something real quick. My worst fears were definitely working against me on this one. I hate being in the dark in new places, I hate when things pop out at me, and I hate loud noises (even balloons make me flinch). 

Yes, I know, some of you are thinking exactly this ~~~> 

Just bear with me, please. 

So we get around the next corner, I'm clinging to Monkey like a fresh pair of panties, trying to hide my face in his jacket, and, the next clown came out to blow a freaking air horn just behind my head. The last one I remember seeing was the one sitting on top of the wall, that came down and hit it. I was the only one that noticed him, so everyone was pushing me forward and couldn't understand why I wouldn't move until he did. I tried running past, but he swung as soon as I passed, and I ran into a wall, which had another clown next to it, so I fell back from there, and into another.

Long story short, I ended up having a full-scale panic attack before I could get out of there. Monkey and Biscuit practically had to carry me out. The last things I remember in that place was this woman who popped up out of nowhere while I'm already freaking out, and blowing another air horn in my face. That's where I lost it the hardest. I hit the ground, screaming my lungs out, and I remember just crying and repeating, "Make it stop!"

When the guys finally managed to get me outside, I could hardly breathe, and they had to call an EMT over to look at me to make sure I'd be okay. I couldn't stop shaking for about 10 minutes, and I felt like utter dog shit for freaking out that bad. I never get that afraid of anything, but that place was just a sensory overload of the worst kind. Everyone was trying to get me to calm down after, but I wouldn't have it. I felt like such an idiot for going into something like that, and I'm pretty sure it'll be a few more years before I set foot in another Haunted House again.

Anyway, time to get to #4. Waste time. I've been jonesing for some sailor moon lately so I'm going to catch up a little bit before I go to bed.

So, as always, take a deep breath. Focus; and just take it one day at a time.