About a month before Levi and I were married, he decided to get a tattoo. It was a tribal sort of tattoo and was of a circle that came together at three points. Somehow this circle was (maybe still is) very symbolic to him, and he told me that it was symbolic in terms of our relationship, our coming together.

I found myself thinking about that tattoo yesterday as I was driving on the freeway, alone. Since I've had Adrian I have found that I have all of my epiphanies, realizations, and profound ideas while driving — that's also where I do all of my problem solving. Driving to and from work, daycare, etc. is the only "me" time I really get anymore.

But, back to the tattoo. So I found myself thinking about his stupid tattoo — what it represented to Levi, what it represented to me — and I began to wonder what he must think of that tattoo now? (I mean, I've always said tattooing somebody's name on you is probably the stupidest thing you can do [unless that someone is your child], but I've never thought about a symbol.)

That's when my new epiphany happened. That tattoo looks like a cyclone. Our relationship was a cyclone. We came together in a frenzy, ran circles 'round and 'round until we spun totally out of control wreaking havoc on ourselves and everything around us. Then we broke apart, each person forever changed, each on a new path.

I'm a firm believer in everything happens for a reason, that there are no coincidences, that we are each put here for our own unique purposes; and every epiphany I have like this one brings me closer and closer to finding mine.

Last night I dreamed of Levi again. This time I dreamed that I was in Los Angeles with my friends, and that Levi came to visit us.

It was just like old times, with drinks, conversation, laughter, and music. Except that I was not the old, naive me, I was the new me, the older, wiser, mother of an almost two year old boy whose father abandoned him. That version of me.

I like her so much more.

In the dream we are at this party and we finally sit down to have dinner. Levi is sitting across from me, and I am struck with the realization that I don't feel anything; no pain, no anger, no emotion what so ever. I marvel at that for a second, and then feel giddy.

Then, he stares at me. Stares right into my eyes.

And it hits me.

That disgusting raw feeling, that feeling like you've been socked in the stomach; it’s the feeling that comes when you have pain, disappointment, anger, pity, and hurt all rolled into one.

Then the tears come and I try to hold them back as I excuse myself from the table.

In my dream, Levi followed me outside and we talked. In my dream he told me that he was sorry that he failed me, that he missed me.

In reality, I know he would never do that.

I woke up again thinking, What the hell is the matter with me?

Then I realized that I've done this before. See here.

It seems that since my divorce, every time I have an opportunity to have a somewhat serious relationship with another man — a man I really like — I dream of Levi, and I start having serious doubts.

I'm glad that I've noticed the pattern. It helps that I’ve been blogging about this, so there’s a record, and I can recognize these patterns.

Even if I'm still unclear as to what it all means.

Sometimes I still dream about Levi. But not in the way you think. When we first separated I couldn't even sleep, let alone dream. Then, when I finally started dreaming again, I'd dream us back together; together as one big happy family.

I'd wake up from those dreams feeling more depressed than when I went to sleep; dying to go back to sleep and savor that fantasy for just a moment longer.

I'm so glad I don't do that anymore.

Now I have angry dreams.

Now I have dreams in which I am screaming at him.

Now I have dreams in which I am leaving him behind.

Now I have dreams in which I am kicking him out of my house.

I had one of these dreams last night. In my dream, Levi was in my house (don't ask me why) with his whole family.

They were sitting there as I reamed each and every one of them. I was screaming and crying, asking them how they could do this to my son? I remember that I was screaming at Levis' sister, "How dare you!!"

I awoke from this dream slightly startled. Why am I still dreaming about this?

In truth, I don't really feel as angry as I used to. I've worked hard at letting that anger go.

This prompted me to do some research on dreams and I've discovered that people work out their issues through dreaming.

One study, conducted by the Association for the Study of Dreams, looked at 49 people going through divorce. The study showed that people who incorporated their ex into their dreams at the time of the break up were significantly less depressed and better adjusted to their new lives at the follow up point than those who did not.

Another remedy for divorce: Get plenty of rest.

I went to my therapist last week (as I do every week) and for some reason she asked me, "Why are you here, what do you hope to get out of therapy?" I pretty much thought we had already established this but I guess she was just checking.

I told her that my ultimate goal — with regard to therapy — at the moment was to let go of the anger. I feel at times that I am so angry that it is holding me back. You wouldn't know it to look at me, either. You might not even know it if you knew me. I'm generally a pretty happy, social, outgoing person. Or at least that is the way I appear. Underneath all of that is one pissed off chick.

I am so angry with Levi (for obvious reasons) and barely a day goes by that I don't at least have a fleeting moment of rage toward him. Sometimes, if I get on an anger "roll," I can be distracted by it for hours.

This is a problem. I need to let it go, accept what he's done so that I can get on with my life.

Anger sucks. Especially when he's not around for me to take it out on.

She suggested that I write a list of things that trigger my anger. I did it, and my list is absolutely ridiculous. In fact, this is probably the only forum where I could share my list and not be looked at funny or laughed at.

Here's one of the triggers I put on my list, just so you can get an idea:

Anything to do with the state of California, especially in the winter — I can't stand that I'm shoveling my car off, probably while holding my baby, while he's sleeping in sunny California.

Do you understand what I'm saying about it being ridiculous? I actually hate the entire state of California, just because he's there. I'm rolling my eyes at myself.

There's been a lot of buzz on the blog in regards to songs and song lyrics that remind us of our exes or of our divorces. It reminded me of how I felt immediately after Levi left and the songs that I listened to.

What is it about the human condition that makes us sort of torture ourselves with stuff like this after a breakup anyway? My divorce process had a soundtrack. For real. I made myself a CD and I listened to it all the time. Sometimes singing along, sometimes crying, but most of the time, pining away.

My divorce soundtrack — along with the particular lyrics that would absolutely slay me — went something like this:

U2, One Love:
"Did I ask too much
More than a lot
You gave me nothing
Now it's all I got"

Johnny Cash (previously done by Nine Inch Nails), Hurt:
"What have I become
my sweetest friend
Everyone I know
Goes away
In the end
And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt"

Dave Matthews Band, Stay or Leave:
"Wake up naked, drinking coffee, making plans to change the world
while the world is changing us.
It was good, good love.
And you used to laugh under the covers,
maybe not so often now
The way I used to laugh with you was loud and hard"

The Felice Brothers, Wonderful Life:
"Me and you have done the same damn thing
We fell in love knowing the pain it would bring
Now all I do is sing
Sad songs with red underneath"

Ani Difranco (every girl going through a divorce needs Ani), Done Wrong:
"like how could you do nothing
and say, i'm doing my best
how could you take almost everything
and then come back for the rest
how could you beg me to stay
reach out your hands and plead
and then pack up your eyes and run away
as soon as I agreed"

As if I didn't have enough going on already, I decided to add more to my plate. Something major.

I've decided to go to school. I've wanted to learn cinematography and film production for quite some time, and now I'm finally going to do it.

I stumbled across the program a few months ago while doing some research on the Internet. Of course, like anything of its kind, it's pretty expensive. However, they had some information on the site pertaining to grants and other sources of financial aid so I decided to go for it, and I applied.

It was a daunting application complete with questions like "Why should we give this money to you?" and "Explain your commitment and desire to be in the film program." The last question was an essay. I did the best that I could — it took me all day — and sent it on it's way. I didn't get my hopes up, though.

So I was shocked when I received the letter that I had been selected for not one, but two grants. They cover the cost of attendance and then some. I'm also taking out a few student loans so that I can spend more time focusing on this.

I enrolled in the accelerated summer program, so that I can start earlier, cram a bunch in, therefore finishing quicker. I always have enjoyed moving fast.

This is going to be great. It's going to give me something to focus on, something more important than Levi and all of his bullshit. There are some fabulous classes that are going to provide me with excellent opportunities for creativity. And I'm going to learn how to do something that I know that I will love doing.

Classes start May 19. I can't tell you how excited I am to finally be doing something good for myself.

I have been holding back on showing everyone this, mostly because I used to be so thoroughly disgusted and humiliated by it. But today, I looked at it, and actually laughed.

That's when I decided to share it. I mean, who here doesn't need a good laugh, right? Here are the highlights:

He created this in October of 2006. I gave birth to our son in December of 2006. Nice guy, huh?

Okay, on with the laughs. For starters, I can't help but find it utterly hysterical, and somewhat pathetic that he chose the name Sexybeast0007. He could have done without the sexy, I will agree with him on the beast part, though. Next, he claims to be 39, yet he was 41 at the time; but then under the question "The best or worst lie I've ever told" he writes: I never lie.

Laugh on.

The fact that he says that he's single, and has brown hair, is notable, too, especially since he's bald — totally bald. Maybe his hair used to be brown? I guess that's up to his "lucky lady" to figure out.

The fact that he fails to mention that he has two children is disgusting.

Under "Why you should get to know me," you will truly understand, once and for all, what a narcissist this man is. In a paragraph of 30 words or less, I think he calls himself sexy and successful at least three times.

If after you've read all of this, and you've decided you have to date him, but you're upset because he calls himself "picky but worth it," have no fear: it appears that he doesn't have any real requirements for a woman...she just has to be between 22 and 35.

What a loser.

I'm bringing this to court with me. (I have the old version, where his picture was still up.) Mostly to prove that he considers himself to be a successful music and film agent, but also because he admits to using recreational drugs.

Yup, sometimes Levi is a giant moron. Laugh on.

I used to think that I had something to prove. That by not pursuing child support from Levi, I was proving to him and to his family that we didn't need them. At the very end of our relationship, they all tried to push me, hard, to put Adrian up for adoption. Since Adrian's birth, whenever the subject of child support has come up, Levi and his mother both said to me, "If you can't hack it, put him up for adoption." I felt like I needed to prove to them that I had made the right choice.

I keep talking about how much time has helped change my perspective on things, and I guess, for now, I will continue to do so, because it really has.

I have grown tremendously as a person from this experience. I feel like I was stripped down to my bare bones, and given the opportunity to start over. I feel like a new person.

As a result, I no longer feel that I have something to prove to them. Their opinion doesn't matter to me. It ceased to matter, when I realized that my son never began to matter to any of them.

That doesn't mean that this sucks any less, though. That doesn't mean that I wouldn't love to be able to do it all on my own. I simply cannot. Unfortunately, we live in a world in which finances are a necessity. It costs a lot to raise a child, and now, the only person I have to prove anything to is him.

I've made it through another day of this, and moving forward, what strikes me the most, is that I feel stronger. I feel like I can make it through this.

When my ex and I were in the process of splitting up we'd get into arguments and say some really nasty things to each other. Who hasn't been there, right?

I remember one argument in particular, solely because of the cutting things that he said to me, and how even now, a year and a half removed, it still stings.

I can't remember specifically what we were arguing about, but I'm sure it had everything to do with the fact that he was leaving me, pregnant, and abandoning our son.

A quick recap for those of you that haven't read all of my past blogs: Levi lost a significant amount of money when I was six months pregnant, and rather than owning up to it and figuring it out as a couple, he decided to leave, move to Los Angeles, and work out out a plan to earn it back.

He told me, at six months pregnant, that my options were to either raise my son by myself, or put him up for adoption. He was pushing the adoption thing (even though my son was a planned pregnancy), and once even went as far as to tell me that I could "get a hundred grand for a white Jewish baby."

So, we're arguing about all of this (and please keep in mind that I'm pregnant, very hormonal, and completely distressed), and a bunch of things were said, which led to me calling him a loser. Well, apparently calling Levi a loser is the most inflammatory thing you can call him, because he then said to me the worst thing he's ever said to me.

It went like this: "Loser!?!" he screamed. "How dare you call me a loser! I've made millions of dollars in my life, gained the respect of hundreds of celebrities and powerful people. What have you ever accomplished in your life, Faith?" Before I could answer him, he said, "All you've ever done is get pregnant — that, and you look pretty good."

Ouch.

I am having anxiety attacks again, I haven't had them in years. I wake up in the middle of the night and my heart is racing so fast that I feel like I can't breathe. I can't calm myself down, and I can't go back to sleep. I sit up like this for hours, my mind racing with questions as my heart thunders away.

Questions like, What happens to Adrian if I die? I can obsess on that one for hours. I worry that if I were to die tomorrow would my son ever know how much I love him? If Levi were to take him, would he even tell him about me?

I tried to put my mind at ease by writing a will (something I should have done already), and I appointed guardians for Adrian. Levi had to sign a waiver agreeing to this, and he did. However, I've been warned that if I were to die, Levi could change his mind, and a court would probably grant him custody of Adrian. I can't even tell you how absolutely nuts that makes me.

I bought life insurance, too (another thing I should have done already), realizing that if something were to happen to me, my son would be broke. I appointed very trustworthy people to be his trustees; this does help put my mind at ease.

Then I start obsessing about money (and my lack of it), worrying first about how the hell I'm going to pay all of my bills, let alone feed and clothe us. I always worry about money (because I never have any) and the only solace I can provide myself with, is that I always somehow work it out.

I used to trick myself and say, "Everything will be okay, because it has to be, there is not an alternative." I'm not sure I can do that anymore.

My aunt passing away so suddenly, for no apparent reason (and did I mention she was only 45?), has given me a whole new perspective on life. Some of it is good, like realizing the things that really matter, which I wrote about last week. But some of the things that I'm realizing are scary as hell.

I guess this is what life is.