chichiguita's Journal

I have heard the experience of divorce compared to a roller coaster more often than not and I find it an apt discription. 

I wouldn't say I have hit many heights at this points--but the lows have been jolting.  

I am in a low right now.  

It seems like everything I see reminds me of all I have lost.  

I feel the loss in a physical way--a vacuous, empty cave from my heart to the pit of my stomach.  I want to curl into myself and weep until I disappear.   

Yes, there were several "what I will miss about Mississippi" moments this weekend.  

Friday night some of the "no man's land" girls kidnapped me and took me to a country western bar called "ropers".  It was a silly beer drinking, line dancing time which included being hit on be a redneck or two (you gotta love those sweet, horny rednecks...).  

Saturday the gang got together for supper.  It would be my last chance to see many of them before I move north.  There were practical jokes and funny stories.  I laughed so hard.  They hugged my neck and bought me too many drinks and we closed down the restaraunt--but we weren't finished yet.  

We made our way down town.  We stopped at the Police station to say hey to "No Halo and Trixi and Wammer" who all work there (No- Halo is Constable).  We laughed and joked around with them.  Naturally, the handcuffs came out--another scandalous photo op...another priceless memory...another thing I will miss about Mississippi.

Then we made our way to "the bottling company" where they were featuring 80's hair bands...The band ended up to be a "Rage against the Machine" cover band. 

It was fun and silly.  

The place was packed with Southern Miss students--and then there was my "thirty something crew" "woot-wooting" and and recalling our highschool days.  

I stumbled in around 2 and went to sleep thinking about how fortunate I have been to have made such precious relationships in one short year.  

Then Sunday, stbx and I took son to the coast so the guys could try the "Shed bbq" I have been raving about the year long.  They loved it--as I knew they would.  

The Shed...a hole in the wall "joint" in Ocean Springs, Mississippi, where Katrina relief workers are taken as a matter of course in the "Southern Mississippi Education".  Folks write on the walls and tack dollar bills on the ceiling.  I have left my mark on the walls of the Shed--and The Shed and the memories made with my Southern Girlfriends--has left a mark on me.  

We walked on the beach and quietly reflected on the wreckage that is still so overwhelming from Katrina's surge. 

Staring at ruins where only the foundation is left (and in some cases not even that)--Knowing that whole lives where washed away as simply as a bug on a windshieild--I felt swept away by the tragic-ness of my own life.

I still do.  

I feel as if stbx is wiping me from his life.  He is taking the meaning from the life I thought we had made.  He has ripped and torn "us" until we are scattered and twisted in a discarded heap like the trash after Katrina.  

I wandered through yesterday--doing what needed to be done.  The memories of our last time in New Orleans overwhelmed me with hurt.  I just wasn't ready to be finished making memories together.  

Another day. 

And here I am today in my little dress at computer--to-do list at the ready.  

Another day to sift through the wreckage and wonder if it will ever look like anything that resembles my life.  

Another day on the coaster.