Saying Goodbye to all the Old Hiding and Numbing Places

On Sunday night, I sat in my hotel room, located between two places where I ran up credit card debt of several thousand dollars over the time frame beginning around the fall of 2006 and abruptly ending mid June, 2008. Super Target is a hop, skip and a jump north and the mall is several hundred feet south of me.

Good bye old, destructive friends.

Actually, I said a semi-goodbye to "non-necessity" spending last June. For old times sake, I stopped at the Super Target before checking into my hotel room. I splurged on Method household cleaning products and picked up some Italian soda to bring back for the kids. (We don't have a Super Target at home.)

I was back in town (from the previous life) to close on my house Monday morning. Eight months after being on the market, it finally found a buyer. I am so relieved that I will not be saddled with a mortgage if and when the vileman goes to prison.

His portion of the equity will not fully pay off the $$$$ owed me for back child support and lawyer fees, but it is about a 40% start. My very good lawyer put a lien on the house payable to me since vileman's payments for legal reimbursement would not start until August 2009 . . . and I knew I would never see any money.

As I tried to watch Celebrity Apprentice (my guilty pleasure) I thought about all the ways I coped while living with vileman and how I have managed to say goodbye to both the destructive and non-destructive habits.

The mommie juice.
It was on its way to becoming a problem. I wrote one of you saying, that my tolerance was getting higher and higher of the cheap red wine and two glasses a night was not enough to give me that numb feeling. My solution to the problem was to get bigger red wine glasses. One glass probably held 16 ounces! When vileman walked through that door every day at 5:15 pm, I headed straight for the wine box. It was my unhealthy coping mechanism.

Once I was out of that environment, I noticed I didn't think about the mommie juice nor did I need the mommie juice any longer. In fact, it should have been renamed "vileman elixir".

The super-sized wine goblets went to one of the day-laborers who I hired to help me load my u-haul moving truck.

The Treadmill
When I was in a get fit mood, I would avoid vileman by walking on the treadmill after he got home from work. I made sure dinner was on the table for my family and instead of eating with them, I would disappear into the spare bedroom with my iPod and walk and walk and walk. Never walking anywhere, just walking in the same place. Stuck. I chose not to take the treadmill with me and vileman either kept it or gave it away. Either way, I don't care.

The Shopping
November of 2006 showed a weight-loss of 32 pounds. I had cut out salty foods, alcohol, snacking and sweets, adhering to the Dash diet. I was moving my body and not sitting in front of the television. As the numbers on the scale and blood pressure machine lowered, my credit card balance went up. The girl and I went went shopping twice a month. The stuff I bought wasn't hoarded and left in shopping bags. It was almost all used (except for most of my stuff) and everyone in the family benefited. A little too much.

Two weeks ago, I went through all my workout clothes, many still had tags on them (hey, at least they were out of the bags!). It was crazy going through all the yoga pants and tops! I was able to give my older sister some of the tanks but I still had way too many. Too many tee's that are too tight. Too many shorts. Too many workout bras. Too many.

A big portion went to Goodwill.
***

Monday morning, before heading to the title company, I walked through the empty house for the last time and said goodbye to that fancy faux prison and all my old hiding places.

The Pantry
Though I worked out at the Y several times a week and walked on the treadmill at night, I still managed to stand in the pantry and consume hundreds of calories during the day; it usually started around 1:30 with a little handful of this or that and lasted until 4:30 in the afternoon. I can visualize me eating a handful of something then closing the pantry door, returning quickly for another dose of numbing. A revolving door would have made it perfect.

The Master Bathroom.
That house had an awesome master bath! Huge bathtub where I spent many hours soaking in that tub at night, avoiding vileman. On the nights that I walked on the treadmill, I would retreat to my bedroom afterwards and close the door, turn on the TV and put a facial mask on for 20 minutes before showering. I could easily spend an additional hour in there, putting off any face time with vileman.


When I walked down the hallway to the back bedrooms to say goodbye to the small fourth bedroom that had housed my treadmill, a stench reminiscent of an overflowing port-o-potty on a hot August day permeated the air. Seems someone had taken a poop in the half bath several days earlier and failed to flush the commode.

It reeked.

It stunk.

It couldn't have been a more perfect ending in closing this chapter of my life.