Tick, Tick, Tick...BOOM!

January brought little to the table of recovery.  In fact, January was nothing but more of the same.  How much more crazy could I get?  My moods could be compared to a revolving door.  Don't like the one you see now?  Just wait a second.  Another will be along at any moment, however you may like the new arrival even less.

I was nothing more than a ticking time bomb. It was almost 3 months after DDay and I was seething inside, but working my ass off to put on a show for the world, excluding Richard.  The show was as much for me as for appearances.  Dear Lord, I needed a break!  Being crazy is completely debilitating!
It was like a little mental vacation when Toughie Pants took the wheel.

Only Richard was witness to my authentic agony, anger and agitation.  He was well aware that I was like highly unstable ammunition, one accidental jolt would cause me to detonate.  I was definitely NOT gonna be the poster patient for Lexapro anytime soon.

In the evenings, we would sit outside trying to decide when Richard would leave and how in the hell we were gonna pay for his new digs.  We still slept in the same bed and more often than not, would wake in the middle of the night and have sex, steamy, lustful sex.  I'd say make love, but it didn't feel like that.  Think about that level of crazy...checking Craig's List for low rent apartments after dinner, then later that same night, hours of hysterical bonding personified.

Are you sick of reading about how sick in the head I was?  I get that.  I was sick of myself.  I had to find an outlet to release some pressure.  Can you guess where I tossed that grenade?
Right at Jaymie.
Transference much?? Lucky, lucky Richard!
To aim at Richard alone was intolerable.  He would never have survived a direct singular attack from me.  I was acutely aware that I needed to distribute the carnage outside my home.  It was like an air assault.  You know when you open the hatch and drop the bomb, people are gonna get hurt, but you don't have to see first hand.

I relaunched my battle for the emails.  There were so many I hadn't seen.  It was like Jaymie was occupying territory that was rightfully mine and I set my sights on getting it all back.
My offensive began innocently, well...that's a little too kind....at first it was "controlled".
She had sent me the first check for $100 just after Christmas.  I decided to offer her a deal.
Surrender the emails and keep the rest of the money.  The rest of the money, $400, meant nothing to me. (remember just a couple of weeks ago, I HAD to get that money back!  Oh, the winds of war..)
The emails were invaluable.  I sent this:
I called my store and they told me your first check had arrived.  Thank you.
I want to offer you a way to not pay back the rest of the money.
If you still have the emails you exchanged with Richard, I would take those over the money.
I want all of them.  You omitted many of the emails when you sent them to me the first time.
If you can send me all the emails AND the Victoria's Secret items AND the CDs, I will not ask for any more of the money. 
It must be difficult for you to come up with $500, so maybe this would be easier for you.  The emails will help me fully understand the relationship you shared with Richard.  He needs to understand it, too.  
In case you care, we are trying very hard to work past this.  I don't think we're doing a very good job of it.
But, we soldier on.  We hope for clarity and resolution.
I hope you take time and truly consider this offer.

Funny. (funny weird, not funny haha)  I wrote this post before reading this old email.  Note I said "soldier" on.   Battle, bombs, soldiers...I thought I was just now figuring out the dynamics of my life after Dday.  Apparently, I knew I was waging war back then, too.
Acquiring the emails became my mission, my ultimate goal.
I was containing the ticking time bomb with mental deflection.
So much better than mental detonation!