Lydee Central

 After much consideration, and continuing to weight the odds (which seem to be right now against me), I have come to the conclusion that the male species of homosapien is, indeed, not family oriented. Allow me to elaborate, since, upon examination of that statement simply, it is not fair.  (excuse my gender bias)  What I mean by my statement is simply that , if a man has a family, and his wife is home, and say his passion of music or art, or something else (model building, running, golf, etc) is doable, he will gravitate and act upon that which is in his reach - seize the opportunity afforded to him. What does "the other half " (in this case, his wife) end up doing?  She will most likely be dealing with the children, planning & coordinating school & or holiday activities, cleaning up, or in her closet, hiding from those around her.Okay, sorry, that was from personal experience.   What I am stating is simply (please note: from my point of view only) that in the con

Unknown to me still are the depths of my wekaness. I have no solice this evening, nothing. There is not one comfort one can give.  do not know whether sorrow is merely an emotion or a deep well of existing pain that never seems to go away, but is merely buried or mulled over in the franticness of life, only to be rediscovered with time.  At leasst for now, there is a match between what was occuring behind closed doors and the picture to the outside world .  He has fun. He always has. He has peace, and will do whatever it takes to preserve himsel,f and network himself back into comfort and a successful life. This was made known to me many years ago. So, either way, my life would be the same, except that the truth of all things would at least be somewhat public. Divorce is not a new realm of existing to me, nor is single parenthood. Somehow I knew that being a mother and a "wife" would always hold me captive in some way. Neither title is liberating in the least. my heart is a

In the amount of time it took for me to think that I was fully supported, much happened. As I continued thorugh school, making the dean's list, and thoroughly enjoying my husband taking care of the kids almost full time (as he said he would when I went back to school), he began applying for jobs - out of state. Yep. Honestly & hope again were tossed aside to continue his dream. Not merely pieces of me were demanded & expected by him, but my life, my hopes, my dreams, my being. I began praying for an early death - again.  So, we moved to a small town (pardon my discreetness here) wherein which I figured out that the journey and path before me would not change. I would forever be fighting his dreams and his goals, and his marriage to his ministry. It was apparent to me in the short time we were in that town, that he wanted something so different than I, and had hoped he could mold me into that human being. He took advantage of my love, my trust, my compassion. I drew the l

 Being a parent.  I thought this position would somehow offer me a constant in a world of change. I thought that I would always feel love for another human being. I thought I would always be willing to happily forgo my needs and desires for the purpose of another. I was wrong.  Imagine my surprise, right on the delivery table, when my child cried, and I felt mortified, helpless, and scared. Right away there was something different. I was responsible for another human being. I was no longer an issue (or so I thought), and my life was null & void. I was comitted, and to place this little one's every need above my own, without complaint, or so much as a mention of anything in regards to myself.  I guess I must have had my ideals set to "Stepford" mode.... because within the next 5 years I figured out the truth behind all that idealistic mumbo-jumbo. Day after day I was tested, again, and again, and again. The only thing that was constant were my tears, my failure, an