Remember when I tied my stomach in knots? Yeah, I’m having that pain again.*

Could it be from the two hours I spent at the doctor’s office this morning being poked, prodded and analyzed to figure out what to do about the neuropathic pain and numbness that returned about three weeks ago?
Could it be from hearing that not only do they want to raise the Anti-Bow-Chicka-Bow-Wow meds but also that they thought I was still taking Topamax along with the Cymbalta. Wha-huh?!? Hell no.
Could it be from the new asshole that my boss ripped me today for unavoidable sins committed yesterday?
Could it be from the call I got from my son’s principal telling me about the world-class fit he threw when he didn’t get a star today and how he refused to get on the bus to aftercare?
Could it be from the shit fit my mother threw when I told her I couldn’t piss boss off and leave early to get Pumpkinhead so she had to?
Could it be from the fact that I couldn’t find anyone willing to offer a kind, comforting shoulder today, even my own parents? I need to be the hugged one, not the hugger for once.
Could it be from the raging toothache that won’t quit that I cannot really take more time off to attend to (see asshole ripping above)?
Could it be from the throbbing headache I got when, after a long night in class, I went to pick Pumpkinhead up from church only to find out he hadn’t gone and no one thought to tell me?

Nooooo… it’s from Chapin, of course, who called me at noon today to confirm that he is coming back and asking me to book his flight. The last stomach knotting was right as we were negotiating the divorce settlement agreement. I came home from the hospital and pretty much signed everything over to him to get the stress to stop. Today I booked his flight home (Sunday the 19th) and reserved him a motel (yeah, I know, but I need to know he won’t be driving all over the universe with our son looking for a place to stay). He asked if I would pick him up. I said, “Yes, I will bring Pumpkinhead and your truck and meet you but then I will be leaving in a separate vehicle.” He flipped and said, “You don’t want to eat lunch with me? Don’t you think Pumpkinhead would like to see his parents together?” NO. HELL NO. I told him he needs to spend some time with the child he abandoned. And if we need to talk, we can do it at another time, without Pumpkinhead, in a neutral public location.

And for those of you who want to warn me about him stealing Pumpkinhead, please don’t. He adores Pumpkinhead. Even my parents are giving me shit and I don’t want to hear it. He is Pumpkinhead’s father. The end. I just need to get him to stay the hell away from me. I spent years living in fear, constantly defending myself from accusations of horrible behavior, all of which festered in the insecure corners of Chapin’s mind and none of which had any basis in reality. It was being constantly on guard that tore me up inside until the one day that I snapped and refused to continue living that way. The last four months may have been difficult, but they have been peaceful. I haven’t felt this “tight” since that first week after the divorce when he called when I was out to dinner with a guy and flipped out, saying he couldn’t come back to the country because he wanted to kill me. I don’t think he really wants to kill me. That said, I do have a restraining order and I am going to change the locks (okay, start using them – lol). I will also notify HR at work. But, as long as he doesn’t put Pumpkinhead between us, he will see his child. His issues with me and his love for Pumpkinhead are entirely separate things.

Okay, I’ve broken out the Sarah McLaughlin and popped the cork on the good bottle of Merlot. My cell phone is off (a rare occurence) and I am officially In A Mood!

*I know I said I’d take my whine elsewhere and I actually have so we’ll just call this a rant, won’t we?