Rolling on down the river

It's been nearly 6 weeks now since my divorce was final. I still haven't figured out why that was such an important milestone for me. As I said, it's not like anything really changed that day. I'm still not living with someone I loved, and I'm still dealing with the loss. It is what it is.

One of the things that has hit me, particularly in the past week, how much easier and how much harder it is to deal with life's little bumps by myself. There was a "thing" that happened last week, and it caused a bit of drama and tears. It wasn't a tragedy, but it could have been. No one died, we're all going to recover. But as I was dealing with the fall out, I found myself missing my husband a little more acutely than I did before.

Having him around in a crisis was both a good thing and a bad thing. It was a bad thing if it involved my son. There was plenty of guilt I dealt with in those times. A struggle between doing what I felt was right for my son, and doing whatever it was my husband would consider appropriate, which were usually two different things. But it was also a good thing cause he was a rock of strength when the going got tough. This is when I really miss having him in bed with me, and those hugs that oughta be insured by Lloyds.

This is the first crisis I've dealt with since he left that did not involve him. So in that way, it was a first.

Things are going to be fine, but it's left me feeling very alone this week. I really am on my own now. That sucks. And it doesn't.

St. Theresa's Prayer

I was reminded of this beautiful prayer by a beautiful friend. May it guide your days and remind you of the love in your life.

May today there be peace within. May you trust that you are exactly where you are meant to be. May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith in yourself and others. May you use the gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you. May you be content with yourself just the way you are. Let this knowledge settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love. It is there for each and every one of us.

Divorce ages you

Maybe I’m overly sensitive about my age. In fact, I know I am. I’ve tried to train myself not to dwell on it so much, and not to let it dictate my choices. But the sad thing is I was initially left for a younger woman by a man I completely adored and trusted. That’ll knock you for a loop. And I’ll be 50 this year. And many many times when I look in the mirror, I see someone old. Older than I was yesterday. I’ve been able to see the stress and pain in my own face.

Did separation and divorce age me unfairly? Surely it did. It’s been a horrible time. Or is it just that I’m naturally aging, and I’d look this tired and scared even without the stress of a huge mid-life change that I didn’t want? Still, I’m very grateful that I’m not my mother. At age 50 she was OLD. She acted and looked old. She was a little old lady right down to her daily afternoon naps and weekly faithful visits to the beauty shop. I don’t want to be like that. So I’m really really glad I’m not my mother.

I am alive, active, and energetic. I have much to do yet. I have a great job, great friends (who don’t act old, thank goodness), dreams. Yes, dreams. I’m amazed and thankful that I have dreams, considering how old I feel and the terrible nights I’ve endured in the past year.

The good news is that I’m just starting to see a tiny little glimmer of light. It is shining on my options. I am an empty nester, and now a single woman. I still have a son to educate, but mostly he’s off living his own life. The only thing he depends on me on for is tuition and periodic pep talks.

We’re told that 40 is the new 30 and thus 50 is the new 40. So following that reasoning, I’m just 39. There are many things that are liberating about being in your 40s. Or in your 50s. It all depends on your attitude, right?

What about the inlaws?

My former husband is from the mountains of North Carolina, with a family just as dysfunctional as the next family. His mom is a very stoic, "suck it up" sort of woman. She isn't someone you can call and whine to. His father doesn't have a relationship with any of his three sons. His two brothers live in other cities, and we saw them generally only on holidays or in the summer.

One of the things that most upset me during our separation is that I felt I was losing his family. He gets his family in the settlement. They're HIS family. I don't have much family. Both of my parents are deceased, and I'm an only child. I have aunts, uncles, and cousins but I'm not particularly close to any of them. We're very different.

So I've had a lot of mixed feelings about my inlaws. They have not contacted me at all during the separation. I'm told they didn't know what to say to me and they did not want to be seen as interfering. Still...I have to admit I felt deserted by them. But again...they're not my family, they're his.

At the encouragement of a friend, I wrote them all notes today. I told them that I was grateful for their kindness and love over the years, and I hoped we could remain in one another's life. I'm not sure how that will be received. The notes are in my mailbox. I've been tempted to get them out of the box before the mail runs tomorrow.

I'm not sure why I'm so reluctant to contact them. I have nothing to be ashamed of. I do not expect to hear back from any of them. And I suspect it will tick off my former husband that I wrote to them. But tough. He can go blow. They were my family too, and I have a right to have a relationship with them. Right?

I occasionally read some of the online divorce forums. On the subject of inlaws, they all say that those relationships generally end once the divorce is final. It becomes too difficult and awkward to maintain contact. I get that. But I will miss being part of this family. They were the only family I had notwithstanding my awesome and loving friends who repeatedly tell me I am part of THEIR family. Thank God.

I suppose the demise of the relationship is just one more loss you can chalk up to divorce. Divorce is expensive, and not just in terms of the financial cost.

Is it just me?

Is it just me or are people (men, specifically) really THAT undependable and insensitive? Either I have the worst luck in the world or my expectations are too high. My son has told me that I expect too much out of people. I expect them to live up to my standards and then I think there must be something wrong with them when they disappoint me.

Truth is, the fault lies with me. Not them. They're just being who they are. After all, most men can't help but be idiots. And heavens...God gave some of them a double-dose of the idiot gene.

Now if you're a man reading this and you're getting all offended and riled up, keep in mind that while I have not seen nearly enough of the best side of some of the men in my life, I certainly don't mean to paint all of you with a broad brush. There are gentlemen in my life who are very nice to me. They don't lie to me, betray me or throw me under the bus to save their own hides. And to those gentlemen, I offer my sincere thanks.

But to the rest of y'all.....straighten up! Being a man does not give you an excuse to be behave badly. And not all the women in your life will forgive you every time you mess up. And even if they do...they probably shouldn't. Like me.

The Rest of the Story

I waited two hours to be called. Flanked on both sides by loving supportive friends, we watched the circus that can be divorce court in Wake County. It's a great place to people watch. You see all sorts of people in a courtroom. The proceedings drag on slowly as people shuffle in and out of the courtroom.

I hung on to my composure very nicely, I think. That is, until my name was called to come to the front of the courtroom with 7 other soon-to-be-divorced people to take the affirmation. It was a cattle call. Eight people at a time were called to the front of the room, and then one by one they stepped in front of the judge to get her signature on the judgment and certificate of divorce. The very second I stepped through the wooden gate separating the galley from where the action takes place in a courtroom, I felt my composure slip.

The bailiff watched me intently. He watched everyone in the room intently, on the look out for trouble makers. He brought me a wad of toilet paper to wipe my eyes and blow my nose. Guess I wasn't hiding my meltdown very well. I fled the courtroom just as the flood gates opened. I only wanted to step outside a moment until I could suck it up and go back in to face the finality. Seconds later the judge called my name. Shit. I had waited two hours perfectly composed and now she has to call me? Did she purposely wait until I couldn't hold it together any longer? Probably not. She didn't seem to have that sort of measured sensitivity.

Things moved very quickly after that. She asked me all the required questions. I couldn't remember what date we separated. Or maybe it was the date we married. Was it 2007 or 2008? I was confused. The entire 3 minutes it took her and clerk to do the paperwork legally required to end a marriage is a complete blur. Done. Divorced. My friends hustled me out of the courtroom and into the ladies room where the real flood gates opened.

Had a minor breakdown in the ladies room. But quickly dried up and we went to lunch. See? Life goes on. You go to court, get a divorce, have lunch with friends. Life goes on.

Wow, I'm Not Married Any More

There are times I can still hardly believe it. For instance, tonight I was loading the dishwasher, and this feeling of disbelief washed over me. At times, I still have trouble believing my husband no longer loves me and he left me. Stab in the heart. Ouch.

But it's true. And although it doesn't leave me completely distraught as it once did, I'm still not happy about it. I have a friend who gets very annoyed at me for such things. "How in the world could you still have any shred of desire to be married to this man after what he did to you?" , he asks. Believe me. If I could make the underlying sadness and disbelief go away, I would. Love isn't - and never had been - something you can control.

Regardless of my inability to completely and fully accept my new reality, I'm really doing quite well. Almost content. Almost happy. I am completely doting on my cocker spaniel. He's the current man in my life. He looks at me adoringly, comes when I call him, always ready to give kisses, and he'll never leave me. He'll love me till death does us part. What a guy.

Day One

Today is day one of my new life. That's what a friend told me last night. At first it sounds a little dramatic, but once you think about it, it's right on the money. For the past months, my eye has constantly been on the day my divorce would be finalized, as though it was an important goal of some sort.

I'm not sure why it seemed such an important milestone. After all, nothing changed. My life didn't change. The only difference is that I now have a piece of paper that says I'm no longer married. It all came down to a piece of paper.

Sad, huh? But good at the same time. Thank GOD my life didn't change yesterday after my divorce was granted. I've had enough change. Plenty. But it does free me in an emotional sort of way. Yesterday, I could begin sentences with "my husband and I". Today, I need to start thinking in terms of "my ex-husband and I".

I never liked the term "ex". I've always thought it as a flip or disrespectful way to refer to someone you once loved enough to marry. Just like I didn't like the way the judge yesterday - after granting the divorce - congratulated everyone as their divorce was granted. It just seemed horribly inappropriate. How about something more sensitive, like "I'm sorry this happened to you, but I wish you good luck in your life". Instead, she told every single person in her courtroom who appeared before her for a divorce "congratulations and good luck".

Although nothing major changed, there are a few minor things I now have to get used to. Like thinking of myself as a single person. Yeck. Not sure I like that much. I never wanted to be single, and I identify as a married person. I'm meant to be a married woman, not a single woman. And I have to get used to thinking of my husband as my "former husband" which sounds a lot better to me than "ex-husband".

All in all, things look good this morning. Yesterday was just an emotionally numbing experience. And last night I felt like a beaten puppy. But today....today doesn't look - or feel - so bad.

My Sweet Lola

As if we needed one more thing to manage emotionally, my husband and I decided this morning to put our Sweet Lola to sleep later today.

Lola is our Shih Tzu. We rescued her about 7 years ago from a family who terribly neglected her. She was a little old lady when we got her. She has a multitude of health problems: heart murmur, colitis, chronic skin allergies. The list goes on and on. She has been a high maintenance (and expensive) little girl.

But gosh did we love her. She's small as far as Shih Tzus go -- only about 12 pounds. But she has a 100 pounds of spunk. She rules the household, in spite that even the cats are bigger than her. She has those large adoring eyes common to the breed. We love her a lot. She loves us a lot.

We are going to let her go today. In trying to prepare myself for this last night, I read something that really made me feel better. Dogs have no sense of the future. They only live in the moment. For instance, they don't look forward to their next bone or car ride. So we're not taking anything away from her such as anticipation of her next trip to the beach. The vet will essentially OD her on a pain killer or anesthesia, and she'll just go to sleep.

I know some folks get terribly sentimental and dramatic when a much loved pet dies. That thing about the Rainbow Bridge is utterly stupid, if you ask me. But I do like the idea that our Lola will find a place where there is no more tummy pain, ear aches, or unbearably scratchy skin. We will help her find that place.

We'll bury her in the back yard next to our beloved Rebecca, the best toy poodle ever. Lola's had a great run. We gave her probably the best years of her life. She got to sleep in a warm bed every night, be adored by everyone who walked in the door, plenty of yummy bones, and a Christmas stocking on the mantle every Christmas. What more could a pooch ask?

Almost Single

I'll be a single woman soon. Forty-eight hours from now, my marriage will be dissolved and a thing of the past. Or at least it will be dissolved, but it will be a long long time before it is a thing of the past.

These days leading up to the court hearing have been hard, but they haven't been as awful as I feared. I have a sense that once the divorce is final, and it is behind me instead of in front of me, things will be very different. I hope I'm not disappointed in that. I hope I don't completely dissolve in the days following the divorce. After all, what's the point in that? What is it going to buy me? Not a darn thing.

It is pointless for me to be an emotional mess. Sometimes I can't avoid it and I feel like I've been crying for the last 6 months and I'm sick of it. But really....it's not like it makes me feel better to get it out. It doesn't. It makes me feel worse. It gives me a terrible headache and leaves me exhausted. So, why bother?

A standard piece of advice is to stay busy during these tough times. I have discovered that is excellent advice. On the days that I'm very busy, I do much much better. On the days that I'm not so busy, or especially if I am at loose ends for the evening with no structure, well, those are the times I don't do so well. I need to book myself with a full schedule for a while. That won't be hard.

One night last week, I told my husband that I did not want this divorce. Not that it should have been a surprise to him. He didn't feel the same. He wants the divorce. But later, it occurred to me that we've gone about this all wrong. Most couples, when it becomes apparent the marriage is on a down hill slide, will do something in an effort to save it, even if it's fruitless. They'll see a marriage counselor. Read a book on how to save your marriage. Speak to a minister. We did none of those things. That's a shame. Or maybe it would have been pointless. But how will we ever know?

I read somewhere recently that divorce is a "managable tragedy". I like that phrase. Managable tragedy. Divorce is indeed a tragedy. But it encourages me to know that it is managable. It means I can manage the awfulness of it, the loneliness, and the goshawful fear.

Rage

I am having the worst night I’ve had in a long time. In as long as I can remember. I am angry tonight. So so very angry, I can feel it burning down in my soul. I can feel the anger in my shoulders and in my back. It is a physical anger. So angry I slammed cabinet doors shut, kick my cats across the kitchen, threw my very favorite popcorn bowl on the floor and kicked it repeatedly until it shattered into bits. Threw my clean laundry in the floor, slammed doors, yelled at the dogs until I am hoarse. I scared myself.

I am not generally prone to physical fits of anger. But tonight I had such a whopping fit of anger that I am lucky my kitchen is in one piece. I threw things, yelled, kicked, screamed, slammed, cussed, and cried to the degree that I scared myself. Even now, I am sitting here on my bed typing this with shaking hands and tears streaming down my face. I still feel the anger, but it is less physical now.

The silliest thing set me off. I went outside to empty my trash, and discovered my son had not taken the trash down to the road as I asked him to do. Now, that in itself is an annoying but small thing. Except tonight it is something that set off a rage inside of me that I’ve never before seen. It isn’t just anger. It is rage. Absolute rage. I have never experienced this kind or level of rage. Until now.

Any number of things have happened recently to contribute to my rage, but the most important one is the fact that I am being forced to divorce someone I thought I would love and live with until the absolute end of time. Someone I loved with everything in me. Someone who betrayed me in such a way that I will never ever look at betrayal again the same way. Now…I know what betrayal is. Before…I didn’t.

One week from Friday, my divorce will be final. On Friday the 13th. The day before Valentine’s Day. I don’t want this divorce. I didn’t ask for it, I didn’t do anything to deserve it. Yet, here it is. I don’t understand what I did to warrant this. I loved this man, took care of and loved his child, loved his family. I held nothing back. I gave every ounce in me. I loved with everything I had.

And he betrayed me. He rejected my love. He loved someone else more than he loved me. How can that be? Is it so arrogant of me to wonder how he could possibly love another woman more than he loved me….who gave him everything?

What did she give him? A good fuck? A sympathetic ear? An adoring look? Bitch. I hate her. I’ve never met her, but I hate her. Hate her, hate her, hate her. I have her phone number. I think I’ll call her and let her know first hand how much pain she caused. How many lives she changed irrevocably and forever. How many tears she caused. Wonder how she’d feel once I let her know how much pain I am in because of her? Would she sleep well tonight? Would she call him to let him know his bitchy wife had the nerve to call her? Would she think I’m totally crazy? Probably. Cause I am.

Except she didn’t do all these things. He did. She was an accessory, and she’ll have to live with that. But in the end…no one is at fault but him. And me.

Lessons learned and ignored

I just never learn. My perpetual and eternal optimism has taken a real beating in the past 6 months. I feel it slipping away from me. Or maybe it’s just morphing into something a little more realistic.

I continue to trust and forgive…even when I shouldn’t. It’s a character flaw; one that has bitten me many times. You might think “but isn’t it a good thing to trust and forgive”? Yes, it is. But I carry it over the edge. I trust people who have proven to me they can’t be trusted. And I forgive people who stomp on me time and again.

What does that say about me? That I’m a patsy? That I’m a doormat? I don’t usually think of myself in such a way, and I’m betting most of my friends would laugh to hear someone call me such. But there must be a line where it is no longer appropriate to trust someone, and it’s time to stop forgiving. I am not as quick to find that line as I should be.

Don’t misunderstand….I want to be a trusting and forgiving soul. That’s who I want to be and that’s who I am. But I’ve got to figure out how to use that personality trait in a way that doesn’t destroy my faith. It’s a tough task.

As you might imagine at this point in my life, I’m specifically thinking of men here, in my rant on trust and forgiveness. A couple of men in particular. Is it their fault I’m feeling hurt or betrayed? Not completely. It’s partially my own fault because I trusted more than I should have and I forgave one time too many.

It greatly disappoints me that people disappoint me. And men disappoint me far more often than women. No surprises there! How many times will I allow myself to continue to be disappointed? How much longer? It’s just got to stop.

Almost a done deal

So I filed for divorce yesterday. I did it. And goshalmighty was it hard. It took an amazing amount of courage for me to march into that courthouse, and start legal proceedings that in about 6 weeks time will end my marriage.

I'll even confess that I had a secret deeply hidden fantasy that my husband would call on my way to the courthouse and stop me. He knew I intended to file first thing Monday morning. But he didn't, which is really no surprise, and I am thankful I found the resolve to see it through.

After it was done, I called him to tell him what to expect next. I told him that was the single hardest thing I've ever had to do. Know what his response was? "Sorry." How's that for sympathy? Maybe I'm being selfish, and he needs a little sympathy too. But jeeze...I was the one who had to walk into the courthouse and DO it. Maybe he doesn't understand the enormity of that.

I still find myself surprised at finding us on the very brink of divorce. I still have moments where I simply cannot believe my sweet and loving husband left me with every intention of divorcing. I still shake my head at that. I truly thought I would be married to him for the rest of my life.

Guess not.

Why this is a good thing

I’m trying to think about why this divorce is a good thing for me. I’m an avid list maker. So I’m making a list of all the good things about this. It all boils down to freedom.

1. I am free to live my life, plan my life, execute my goals, chase my dreams…any way I think best without having to get anyone else’s buy in.
2. I don’t have to consider or check with anyone before staying out all night. Not that I am prone to late nights, but I could if I wanted.
3. I can think about my future without having to consider how I’m going to drag his sorry unmotivated ass with me. I can move at my own speed. Not his snail’s pace speed.
4. I can explore my own interests any way I damn well please. I don’t have to worry about being married, committed, or responsible to or for another person. Much less a sorry-assed man who can't manage to live up to the single most important committment one can make in life.
5. There’s no one in my bed but me. That can be a sad thing, but for me – at least at this moment – it’s a good thing. I get to wallow in my bed, use all the covers I want, arrange the pillows any way I want. I can lay in bed and watch silly movies, write, read, work on my laptop, listen to music, pet my dogs, talk on the phone, paint my toenails, think about tomorrow. It’s my haven. It’s my “woman cave”.

These are all good things that make me happy. This doesn’t mean I am anti-marriage. I am sure I will love again, make a commitment, have a meaningful relationship. But unless someone comes along who is very good about changing my mind, I likely won’t marry again. It would be like moving to a country where I give up all my personal freedoms. Why enter into a legal arrangement that will inevitably end and suck up all my personal freedom?

Faking it

Ok. So I’m very depressed. No secret there. In my desperation to feel better, I am trying to fake it. I’ll fake being positive. I’ll fake a smile. Maybe it will become so. Maybe if I fake it long enough and smile enough through my tears, those things will become true. I’ll be positive and happy.

It helps to think positive uplifting thoughts. Such as using my divorce as a stepping stone to a better life. Yes, things have changed, but this is no excuse to give up on life. I won’t always feel this devastated. As time passes, I will feel the sting of this divorce less and less. I recently read that the majority of people who divorce come to view it as a positive step in their lives. I want that. I need it.

Another positive thought is knowing I still have much to be thankful for, even with the inevitable changes that divorce brings. I need to actively try to find joy in the life you have right now. Even if I’m faking it.

It must be done

I’ve struggled the past few days. As of Jan. 1, I am eligible to file for a legal divorce. That hit me a lot harder than I expected. I had a few sad moments over the holidays, but thought I’d done very well about getting through them without any major meltdowns. But once the calendar turned to a new year, I fell apart.

In addition to being an emotional, sad, hugely depressed woman, I felt an urgent and immediate need to get this divorce over and done. It must be done, and it must be done NOW. Oh my gosh was that ever depressing! Horribly depressing. I can’t figure out why it hit me so hard. After all, I’ve known for a long while now that we would be divorce. This isn’t news.

My husband has never shown any hesitation about divorcing me. That’s painful. How could it be so easy for him? Am I really that easy to walk away from? The very thought leaves me indignant and in tears. He’s never ever said or done anything that would make me think he hesitated for one moment about leaving and divorcing me. I must have made him very unhappy. Very miserable. How is it that he was so unhappy and I didn’t know it until that horrible night I discovered he loved someone else more than he loved me?

There are moments where I feel badly for him. He must be in a lot of pain. There is clearly something very wrong with him that he so easily walked away from his family. That’s not normal. He must be depressed, sick, or perhaps inhabited by a creature from Mars. A normal, healthy man doesn’t do this.

I am taking control. We’ve talked back and forth about who would do the legwork for the divorce, who would pay for it, who would appear in court on that sure-to-be very bad day when our divorce is declared final by a judge who doesn’t know us and has no idea of the pain in my heart. I’ve decided I can’t leave this very important task to him. He won’t do it fast enough or well enough to suit me.

So I’m doing it myself. On Friday, I picked up a do-it-yourself divorce packet. On Monday morning, I will be standing in line when the courthouse opens, and I will pay the fee and file the papers. About a month later, it will be done. I am afraid to appear in court by myself. I’m afraid I will fall apart right there in front of the judge and all the onlookers. So I will take a friend. Perhaps several. And I’ve decided I am going away for a few days immediately afterward. Don’t know where, but it needs to be someplace I feel safe and cared for.

Damn. This sucks. I hate it. I don’t want this divorce. I didn’t ask for this. But in an effort to bolster myself and to drag myself out of this horrible funk I’m in, I will do anything I can think of to make myself feel better. I need to spend more time at the gym…that always helps. Except I’m too depressed to put on my gym clothes, get in my car, drive to the Y, get out of the car, walk in….it all just takes more energy than I have at the moment.

Life is good

I haven't posted much since Thanksgiving. I just haven't had much to say, and I suppose that's a good thing. Reading back over my posts, I see a definite pattern of posting when my angst is at its best.

Back around Thanksgiving, I was sure I was facing a perfectly miserable holiday season. Between Thanksgiving, my birthday, Christmas, and New Year's...I was fairly certain I'd drag myself through these events with dread and depression. Thank goodness that has not happened! The day after Thanksgiving was a little edgy, and I missed my husband terribly over my birthday, but things have otherwise been pretty smooth sailing.

I'm enjoying all the activity and chaos around the holiday. Here we are 4 days to Christmas and I haven't done the bulk of my shopping. But that's just fine. I'm looking forward to baking cookies, plowing through the stores, feasting with friends on Christmas Eve, and resting and reflecting on a peaceful Christmas Day.

Life isn't so bad.

What a difference a day makes

I attended Carolina Ballet’s performance of Messiah last night. It was an incredible experience, particularly in light of my experience on Friday night at the NC Symphony. Funny how these things play out.

The Symphony is something my husband and I enjoyed together for many years. Somehow, in my head, it is part of US. Kind of like a house we bought together or vacations we took together. It comes with a lot of baggage.

But the ballet is different. I’ve never enjoyed the ballet with my husband. In fact, I don’t believe he’s ever attended a ballet. The ballet is all mine. I don’t associate it with a failed marriage, and that leaves me open to completely enjoy it. I find it particularly meaningful when I attend with a close friend. I’ve come to associate the various performances I’ve attended with the friend who sat next to me. It leaves me with lovely memories.

I shouldn’t be so sentimental about these things. But isn’t the point of music and dance to invoke emotion?

One of my New Year’s resolutions will be to get past my silly emotional reaction to the symphony. I will not allow him to take that pleasure from me. He has taken enough from me. He can’t have this, too.

Happy Holidays

I knew the first round of holidays after my separation would be difficult. Thanksgiving was just the first taste of what it will be like to “celebrate” the holidays without my husband. As a couple, we loved the holidays. They were always a very happy time for us.

In the days leading up to Thanksgiving, I did everything possible not to think about how much I did not want to face the holiday season alone. I tried to stay busy so not to think too much. When I did think about it, tears sprung. And then when I learned that my husband would be spending Thanksgiving alone, I swung between feeling horrible that he was alone, and then briefly, just briefly…I thought “this is what he deserves”. I hated that he was alone on a holiday we so enjoyed for so many years as a couple. It hurt me.

Thanksgiving Day was a good day. I wasn’t the emotional mess I anticipated, and I thoroughly enjoyed my houseful of friends and family. There were a few teary moments in the morning, but I quickly moved past it – had too much food to cook and people to hug and love. It was good.

Friday, the day after, wasn’t so good. Guess I came back down to earth. I made a decision earlier in the week to proceed with a tradition my husband and I enjoyed: holiday pops with the local symphony. I attended with a couple of girlfriends, but completely missed the joy of the program. Instead, I spent the entire two hours fighting back tears and feeling lost and alone that I was there without my husband. It didn’t feel right at all. For the low price of just $45, I was able to completely wallow in two hours of my own sadness. It was awful. I couldn’t wait to get home and pull the covers over my head.

Sheeze. If Thanksgiving was this bad, what can I expect at Christmas?

Forgiveness

I had lunch yesterday with a dear friend who is also dealing with separation and impending divorce. The common thread for us is that our lives fell apart at nearly the same time, under very similar circumstances. In working his way through a reasonable suspicion that his wife has been dishonest about an inappropriate relationship, I have been very impressed – and personally challenged – by how he has dealt with it.

He didn’t always handle it so well. As expected, there was a lot of anger and pain. More than a few sleepless nights, and a lot of soul searching. Hundreds of questions and a struggle to remain civil with a woman who is the mother of his child. Someone he once loved a great deal. Ultimately, he has chosen to treat his soon-to-be ex-wife the same way he said he would want to be treated if caught lying or cheating – with compassion, understanding, and forgiveness.

Dealing with lies and emotional infidelity from someone you love is one of the most awful things in life. It is stunningly painful and hurtful to know you have been lied to and betrayed by someone you trusted with your very life and happiness. And it isn’t just a momentary stab of pain. It goes on and on and on. It hurts every moment of every day for a very long time. It even hurts when you are asleep.

But it’s how you deal with that pain that matters. At first, you spend time processing the betrayal, turning it over in your mind, trying to answer your own questions. You walk around angry and hurt, wallowing in your own pain. Like a pig in mud. Spreading your anger and pain to everyone around you – everything you touch. And indeed, that’s what you do for a period of time, whether or not you realize it. You wallow. You feel like a victim. It’s a rotten way to live.

Then you have to make a choice. Do you really want to live like this? No. There is an option, a very clear option. You can handle it in a very different way - with dignity, compassion, and forgiveness. You can stop being a victim and be proactive in finding your own peace. You can show respect for that person you love but who has broken your heart and stolen your security. You understand that it’s not about you. You can deal with it exactly as you want to be treated if you were caught with your pants down and your hand in the cookie jar. Do unto others. Radical, I know.

Someday, I want to be loved by someone who will treat me in such a way when I use poor judgment and stupidly hurt someone who lives in my heart. And I want to be the person who will treat the person I love – or loved - with a forgiving and compassionate heart. Although I cannot quite bring myself to say “it’s ok honey, I understand. Go forth and be happy” to my husband, I can say “I forgive you. I understand that life is complicated, emotions are mysterious, and we are often victims of our own foolishness and confusion. And in forgiving you, I forgive myself.” I can take the high road. I want to be someone who always takes the high road.

To be treated with that kind of compassion by someone who loves you….well, to me at least, that’s the ultimate love. In that one moment yesterday over lunch on a sad dreary rainy day…I moved miles ahead of myself. I am positive my relationship with my husband changed in that moment. That doesn’t mean I woke up this morning to a whole new day and a whole new life, cause I didn’t. But I woke to a new resolve, and a strong renewed desire to treat him as I want to be treated. Something I should have been doing all along. I just had to walk the pain and be open to allowing someone to touch me in a completely unexpected way.

Forgiveness truly does set us free.

Three rules

I've decided there are three important rules of muddling through a divorce.

1. There is life after divorce. As hard as it is to believe, this marriage will eventually be just something I did once. It will not occupy my daily or minute to minute thoughts. It will be just a sad memory. Which is far better thing than it is right now.

2. Don't burn daylight. Grieving may not have a time frame on it, but life certainly does. There comes a time when you have to accept the fact that it's done, stop with the negative sad thoughts, and move on. There is more life to be lived. I'm ready to live it. I'm not quite done with the grief thing...but I'm getting there.

3. Don't waste time with regret. It is what it is. I can't do anything about what happened in the past, but I can do something about what happens tomorrow. And tomorrow is where I want my head to be. Not on yesterday. Regret buys you nothing.

Three very important things to remember and to live. And in the meantime, here's the stuff I'll be working on:

1. Defining a new relationship with my ex. I'm not exactly ready to be his buddy yet, but someday I want us to be able to talk without tears. I want to be able to talk to him without falling apart, something I often do now when we're in each other's presence. I'm sure he hates to be in the same space with me, and he probably generally leaves feeling like dirt. That's ok, I'm not responsible for how he feels. But I do hope that it won't always be like that.

2. Make a plan. I am well under way with this one. I've done a great job - in my humble opinion - of planning out the next few years. I know where I want to go, and I'm working on figuring out how I'll get there. That's good. It makes me feel good to think about my plan.

3. Create a support squad. Done. I'm getting better about asking for help. I'm perfecting the art of saying "I need you" to my friends, and they're doing a perfectly awesome job of being there.

4. Make time for myself. I'm really not very good at all about this, but I'm trying. Between my books, my dogs, my lovely new bedroom....I'm feeling nurtured in my own environment.

5. Protect myself in the future. I've just recently had a very powerful lesson in this. Sometimes you have to hit me over the head to get something like this through my thick skull. But it's becoming clearer.

Not fair!

I've had a tough couple of weeks. Not so much caused by drama related to my divorce, but rather to drama I've been unwillingly sucked into via a periphial relationship. Drama delivered by people I'm not at all emotionally connected to, but that led to strife in a relationship that was important to me. A very tangled web, indeed.

Ultimately I will likely lose my friend who really matters to me due to something I have no control over. Not the first friend I've lost certainly, but one that mattered a great deal to me. It's very frustrating and it just adds to the pile of hurt feelings and confusion I'm sorting through these days.

It will be ok. It's not nearly as painful as losing a husband I adored for reasons still unclear to me, but rather just one more loss to heap on the pile. It makes me wonder if I'm doing something wrong. If so...what? It would be easy to stick my nose in the air, shrug my shoulder, and say "his loss". But that's not something I've ever done. I'm more inclined to blame myself, even though the situation truly was beyond my control.

Life is not fair. Those who deserve it the least get to go on their merry way leaving the rest of us wondering what the hell happened and where is the fairness in life. A stupid thing to wonder of course, because there is no fairness in life.

Real Love Begins With Yourself

Someone I met recently sent this to me. It appeared in his church bulletin. I like it so much I decided to make a post of it. It was a very timely reminder for me.

Real Love Begins With Yourself

I am able, valuable, and responsible, unique and special. Though I need to give and receive love, I know that I must first love myself as a creation of God with gifts and talents which can help others. This lends purpose to life and makes each day meaningful. When I learn to love myself, it is an affirmation and an approximation of God’s perfect love on earth. This inner knowledge gives me strength to love others unconditionally as well as to practice forgiveness.

No one has the right to judge, criticize, or disminish who I am inside. This is the soul of my personhood which I can protect by choosing what to internalize and what to reject. I refuse to be a victim of anyone’s comments, perceptions, or actions. Ultimately, I am responsible and accountable for my own happiness in life realizing that others can only enrich the quality of my life experience.

I must understand that while I cannot always control what happens to me in this life, I can control my reaction to life’s events and circumstances. To blame others for my condition in life is to become a victim. Only I can choose not to be a victim or to be manipulated by shame or guilt inflicted by others.

I will trust and follow my heart in being compassionate toward others in general and selectively love those who are closest to me. If my love is rejected or not returned in a mutually sustained commitment, I must have the courage to redirect this very personal gift from my soul. True, unconditional love must be reciprocal or it will die. I cannot make others love me nor can I act the pretense of loving others if it is not true. Authentic love is given freely from the spiritual self and is returned if it is meant to be. Loving God is the first and greatest law of life which enables me to truly love others as myself. This is the universal essence of all religions and the key to achieving inner contentment and world peace.

Dr. Lane S. Anderson, III
February, 2000

Feeling to heal

I'm having a bad night. It just hit me out of nowhere. I was fine all day. But suddenly, I fell off the cliff.

Tears fall. I am annoyed that I am STILL crying about this almost 6 months after the fact. I want to move on, and in many ways I have. I've had a few set backs in the past week, but I thought I was dealing with them pretty well. That was true so long as I was so busy I could barely find time to sleep. But now...now, I have time to think. Too much time to think.

I just read that in order to heal, you have to feel. Is that what this is all about? Is that why I feel like crap tonight? Because I am healing? I am scratching my head on that one. So following that reasoning, my tears are good. They are helping me heal. That's like telling a child who is being punished "this is for your own good".

Aside from feeling far too sorry for myself, I am actually doing quite well most of the time. I'm worried about paying for college. But that's a daily concern. At the moment, my house is clean, my work is done, and I am sitting in front of a beautiful fire listening to my favorite radio station with a glass of wine. At any other moment in my life, I'd be loving this. But at this moment, I am blowing my nose and feeling sorry for myself. What a waste of a perfectly good evening.

Oddly, there is something about writing here that is therapeutic. It makes me feel better. Funny how such a silly thing can actually lift me out of my sadness. A little, at least. And on this night, a little is a lot.

Reason to Believe

So tonight I'm baking cookies, per my post of yesterday. I am on a serious cooking spree, and I'm enjoying every second of it, except for the grocery bill.

Anyhow, tonight I'm in the kitchen making Pumpkin Walnut Cookies. Yum! I have the radio on, and I'm rocking along, when this song by Rod Stewart comes on. I've never really paid much attention to this song, but tonight the lyrics really stick in my head.

How true. What a sap I am!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If I listened long enough to you
I'd find a way to believe that its all true
Knowing that you lied straight-faced while I cried
Still I look to find a reason to believe

Someone like you makes it hard to live without
Somebody else
Someone like you makes it easy to give
Never think about myself

If I gave you time to change my mind
I'd find a way just to leave the past behind
Knowing that you lied straight-faced while I cried
Still I look to find a reason to believe

Carrying anger

I've often said that I'm not going to carry anger around with me - ever. It's a heavy burden and I don't want it clouding my days. I especially don't want to burden the people I love with it. That's easy to say for life's little things, like a friend who inadvertently hurts your feelings. But it's not nearly so easy in the case of a significant betrayal - such as the spouse who falls in love with someone else right under your nose and then lies about it for months and THEN leaves you over it. Or even the spouse that leaves you and then four months later can't tell you why (assuming now that it wasn't because he fell in love, since he implies that was just a smoke screen.) Whoa, now that's something to be angry about. And I'm doing a fine job of being angry about it. A damn fine job.

The sad fact is anger is bad. It's misdirected energy. It sucks the life out of you. You can't change the past, and feeling angry or resentful over it doesn't hurt anyone but you. The best you can do is live for today and plan for tomorrow. I want to be someone who forgives and moves forward. I want to prove to myself that I will someday be in a far better place than I am today. Someday I will be happier than I ever was in my marriage. That's a tall order, cause there were periods in my marriage where I was very very happy. But it'll happen. I'm just sure of it.

It's a slow march these days, however. Some days I'm not sure I'm making very good progress, and it's very important to me to make solid progress. No languishing and no laying in bed with the covers over my head. No walking around being angry. No taking my pain out on others, no feeling sorry for myself. I'll have none of that nonsense. None. You hear me?!? NONE.

Well, ok. Maybe just a little. I'm getting better at reminding myself to give a break here and there. Not to beat myself up so badly over things that are perfectly natural. Like tears. And a little anger here and there.

VID (Very Important Decision)

Since my husband left for a better life, and my son left for college, my house has often seemed cavernous and lonely. And far too quiet and still. But I think I've finally hit on the cure for that.

Food.

Not JUST food, but the wonderful smells of an active kitchen. Aromas....freshly baked cookies, homemade soup, roasted garlic, ribs on the grill, fresh squeezed orange juice. Food is not just about satisfying hunger. Food and it's wonderful aromas - well, it's what makes a house feel like a home. It provides the warmth. And sometimes the love.

I rarely cook these days, except when my son is home from college on weekends. And then we mostly eat out. Except for Sunday morning breakfast. They're special. But I do miss cooking, and I intensely miss the SMELL of cooking. So last night - late - I made some homemade oatmeal cookies.

And right now...I have a wonderful pot of soup simmering on the stove. When I smelled the vegetables for the soup as they sauteed in olive oil...it brought back some of the warmth that's been missing. From my life and from my home. It was an instant emotional lift.

Now understand this isn't about emotional eating, which is bad. Especially for a lady on a diet. (That's the real story of my life....) But it's more about warming the soul. It's about my house feeling like a home in spite of the fact that I am now without husband and child. Well, the child will be in and out for the next 20 or so years, but the husband is long hard gone, if you know what I mean.

Yum. I've made a VID (very important decision). I'm going to cook something yummy at least every other day. Even if I have to freeze it, give it away, or throw it away. And it must be something aromatic. Something that smells absolutely yummy. It's critical to my emotional well-being, don't you know.

What happens when we're not looking.....

In a conversation with my husband last week, he made a comment that my son has always disliked him. I told him I didn't think that was true. But later I asked my son how he felt about my husband over the years. The answer totally blew me away.

In the early years of our relationship, my husband worked very very hard to integrate himself into my son's life. He went to all the school meetings, all the basketball and soccer games, all the cub scout meetings. He volunteered to be a scout master for years, volunteered with the PTA, did all sorts of things that parents do for their kids. During that time, it seemed that my son and my husband had successfully forged a close and loving relationship.

But then a very bad thing happened. Adolescence. And oh my, was it a whopper. Whew! I look back on those years with amazement we made it through them in one piece. That's when their relationship began to fall apart, I think. The husband withdrew and the son rebelled. There were the typical teenage struggles with peer pressure, pot, alcohol, sex. A land mine of issues to navigate. My husband didn't handle those things very well. He supported and stood by me, but not my son. An important distinction.

So when I asked my son recently how he felt about my husband, he didn't hesitate to give me the answer. He said he felt deserted. He felt he constantly asked my husband to do things with him, and was constantly turned down in an arrogant and condescending way. I know what he means by that. I noticed it too on occasion, but I really had no idea it stewed in my son's head as it did. My son said he watched his friend's father do things with them - work on cars, go fishing, go camping. And he felt betrayed and resentful that he didn't have a father who would spend time with him like that.

I see that now. I didn't at the time, but I do now. I can't recall many times at all my husband did something my son asked him to in the last 6 or 7 years. They went to a couple of hockey games together, but that was only because it was something they both enjoyed. But he didn't enjoy tinkering on cars, fishing, or any of the other things my son was interested in. So he didn't do them...not even as a way to spend time with the boy whether he enjoyed it or not.

As parents, we often do things with our kids we don't particularly enjoy. I can't tell you how happy I was when he finally lost interest in scouting. Or when I no longer had to sit at basketball practice after a long day at work - and pretend to be impressed with his athletic ability. These are things all parents do. It's part of parenting and we do them with love. Adolescence is no time to lose interest and to stop spending time with our kids. But that's what happened. And it had far more impact than you might think.

That conversation with my son was an eye opener. Not only did it give me important and appreciated insight into how he felt, but it propelled me through some of this separation junk at lightening speed. Suddenly I don't feel so betrayed. I feel encouraged. I am more determined than ever to see this divorce through.

Men Suck

In general, men disappoint me. Maybe my expectations are just too high, and I'm being unreasonable. But at this very moment, I cannot think of one single man with whom I am impressed. Ok, so that's harsh. Not to mention untrue.

What I am really trying to say is that I see absolutely no reason to put myself out there for a relationship on any level when I'm fairly certain I'll come home either disappointed or broken hearted.

I was stood up recently by someone who wanted to meet for a cup of coffee. Now really. Who doesn't show up for a cup of coffee? It wasn't a date. It was a meeting with not one iota of expectations. Unless you count the expectation that you'll be where you say you'll be when you say you'll be there. How utterly rude. I came home indignant and more than a little annoyed thinking "I won't be doing that again". And I won't.

If I date again, it will be under circumstances currently unseen and a total surprise to me. After all, suppose I meet someone like my husband who completely captures my heart and my committment only to walk out years later without looking back at what he left. No point in that.

I think I'll learn to knit. That's a much better idea than dating.

A mood to match the weather

In 1983, the Marine barracks in Beirut, Lebanon was bombed by a Islamic terrorist organization. Hundreds were killed, the majority being US Marines stationed at Camp Lejeune, NC. I was born at Camp Lejeune. My father was a career Marine and we were stationed there most of his career. My family knew a number of those killed, including our next door neighbor. At the memorial service later held on base, I recall the Chaplin saying "we have a day with which to match our mood". It was a cold, gray, rainy day. It surely matched the enormous sadness we all felt.

That comment popped into my head again recently. I've had a string of gray days. To compliment my gray mood, the weather has been cloudy, rainy, and equally gray. I've had a mood to match the weather. Gray, teary, sad, depressed. A period of disequilibrium.

I can't pinpoint what triggered it. Perhaps it's the thought - never far from my mind - that I've been abandoned by the one person in the whole world I thought would be my best friend forever. And I don't understand why. Or maybe it's that my house is falling down around me, and no matter how much money I pour into it, it needs more. I fixed one big problem this week only to discover another. How discouraging. Or maybe it's my worries about my finances. I have plenty to live on, but not much left for my son's college expenses. Which seem to mount by the day. Who knows...all these things individually are enough to send most anyone into a funk. But you glue them all together, and you have an understandably anxiety-producing situation.

I am trying to climb out of this hole I am in. I don't want to be sad. I don't want to feel overwhelmed all the time. I don't mind scrimping and saving to pay for college, but I do mind feeling like I can't buy groceries cause then I won't have what I need to pay the next round of tuition. Things aren't that bad...but the overall anxiety sometimes makes it seem that bad. But don't worry. No one here is hungry. We have everything we need and then some. Just cause we want something doesn't mean we need it. So we're ok. But I sure can work myself into a tizzy over it.

What to do? I don't know. Just keep muddling through. Don't give up. And actually, today is a little better.

Maybe that's cause the sun is shining.

One of those days

I've had one of those days. Nothing terrible happened. Just a lot of stupid little things. Funny how a pile of stupid things can weigh on you. I am greatful that my angst isn't attributable to something terrible. But dismayed that I can let myself get so unraveled by such trivial matters. Granted, it's a lot of trivial matters. And they are heaped upon a woman who isn't sure which way is up sometimes. Maybe that's it.

Maybe I am so overwhelmed at the many rapid changes in my life that the little things ding me a little harder than they used to. I overwhelm a little easier than I used to and I can't focus as well as I used to. It's very easy to make me cry these days, but I'm not crying daily as I was at one time. These aren't necessarily good things for a lady with a job and a life that moves at the speed of light. But...they are better than they were a month ago. Progress is encouraging.

I'm sleeping pretty well lately. That most definitely helps bolster the coping skills. And I am continuing to look forward. It's no longer just one day at a time and one foot in front of the other. I'm thinking of long term things like selling my house. That's good.

Two steps forward, one step backward. But at least the net is one step forward and that can't be anything but good.

Analysis

A dear friend pointed out to me recently that perhaps my husband left the marriage - both emotionally and physically - because he couldn't keep up with me. At first that comment made me smile and think "she's just being kind". But, now I think maybe she had a valid point.

I'm a mover and a doer. I do not sit still. No grass grows under my feet. When I don't like something, I rarely just accept it. I'm always looking for solutions, work arounds, better ways. I'm never satisfied with what is in front of me. It's not greed or restlessness that propels me. It's curiosity. It's a sense of "I can do better than this" or "I am interested in that and I'm not going to let the status quo stop me from at least exploring it".

My husband is a passive, quiet, reserved man. He is extremely intelligent, introspective, kind...but very passive. In many ways, he is blessed with a sense of satisfaction with his life, the gifts in his life. He doesn't think much about expanding his world. Oh, he might make an occasional comment such as "I'd like to work as a curator in a museum." But he'd never take it even one step further. He doesn't follow dreams. He maintains the status quo and he is quite satisfied with that.

The status quo works for me for a little while. Then, I'm done with it, ready to move on to the next interesting thing I might cook up in my head.

Getting a boy into college with a sucky GPA and years of academic frustration behind him? No problem. Borrowing a ton of money to pay his tuition and make repairs on my house on one inadequate salary? No problem. Talking the cable company into doing the impossible? No problem.

My friend's point was that perhaps he felt intimidated by me. Left in my dust, so to speak. I don't mean that in an unkind way. But while I was moving ahead - both in my career, in my personal life, and just in my head...he was sitting still. Perfectly content. Dealing with life as it came at him.

The notion of opposites attracting isn't really appropriate here. We're opposites in the way I just described, but in many other ways we are on the same page. I thought we understood each other and that was one of our greatest strengths. Maybe I was all wrong about that. Maybe we didn't understand each other at all.

Maybe this divorce is the right thing to do.

Loneliness Sucks

Good grief, I had no idea that loneliness was such a burden to bear! I am sure there is plenty more of it in my future, and overall I am enjoying my singleness, but sometimes the loneliness can make me cry.

I guess I've never really felt alone. I've always had a husband, parents, children, plenty of friends. Now the parents are deceased, husband has flown the coop, and the children are off living their lives. That leaves me with friends. Of which I am purely blessed. I have many friends. I adore them all. I need them all. But the loneliness persists.

I've got to find a way to squelch it. I don't like it. I don't even like saying "I'm lonely". It's not like I don't have plenty to do. Plenty around the house, plenty of work, great hobbies, loads of good movies to watch, pets to love. It is definitely not an empty life. But it can be a lonely life.

It doesn't help that I work from home. Not that working from home is a bad thing. I love it. I fold laundry while on conference calls, am available to let the dogs in and out and in and out. Working from home makes me feel more in control of my life and my time. But it does mean I am home. A lot. Alone. Sometimes, such as yesterday, I was just dying for some human contact. So I went to the Y. That helped. I can work from a coffee shop or library. Earlier in the week, I worked from the home of a friend who needed a little help. The flexibility suits me wonderfully.

I have two dear friends who have both spoken recently about the pervasive loneliness in their lives. One is a widow and the other a retired gentleman. I don't believe I suffer from the same level of loneliness they do, and for that I am grateful, but I still hurt for them.

My loneliness is more of an emptiness. An empty bed. An empty dining room. An empty heart. Sometimes an empty bank account. But worst of all, an empty soul.

Just average

I guess I'm not as special as I thought. I've been patting myself on the back these past few weeks for the awesome progress I've made. I've crawled my way from incredible darkness, unable to get out of bed in the morning, crying every single day to the point I couldn't breathe, can't sleep, can't eat, can't think...to where I am now: excited about the future, looking forward to tomorrow, thinking about next week, next month, next year with hope.

And throughout all that I've managed to get a boy into college (we fast tracked through the application process to moving into the dorm in less than 60 days.) I've managed not to lose my job, not to get behind on my mortgage, not to kill my husband (in spite of my overwhelming desire to mow him down with my car in the bank parking lot a few weeks ago). Excellent progress.

I thought I was done! I thought I was finished with the ugly part of my journey. I thought I had moved through those 5 stages at lightening speed. But I was wrong. Yesterday, I thought about my husband and marriage all day long. Twice I picked up the phone to call him. Not to chat, but rather to bitch about the mess he's made of our lives. I'm glad I didn't.

When it was good, our marriage was very good. When it came to a screeching halt 10 weeks ago as he moved out, it was the most awful ugly mass of pain I've ever encountered. Was that really just 10 weeks ago? Good golly. Perhaps I am justified in feeling so pleased with myself. I've covered a lot of ground in 10 weeks! Never one to sit still and let the grass grow, I have completely overhauled my life in 10 short weeks.

Maybe my husband threw me head first out the window, but I managed to grab on to a life parachute and slowly, gradually float my way into a new life. I'm not without my bumps and bruises, and my heart and soul are nearly unrecognizable, but I'm intact. I'm whole. I survived.

Somewhere between happy and sad

Sometimes it's a short trip between happiness and sadness. Sometimes those emotions even blur. Today is one of those times. I'm feeling both a little happy, a little sad.

Maybe contentment is a more appropriate word. Yes, I believe it is. I am content today - here, puttering around my house. All by myself in this great big house. It's been a pretty good day as Saturdays go. Slept in, cooked breakfast, went grocery shopping, baked cookies. Intended to go to the gym, but talked myself into staying home and baking cookies instead. Watched a movie. I don't believe I've had a Saturday like this since before my son was born! Life has been so chaotic lately. Maybe that's why I'm feeling so content today.

Sadness is trying to edge it's way in on my beautiful do-nothing Saturday, but I'm not going to let it. My only child left for college last weekend. He's already been home twice, his school is only 30 minutes down the road. But it's not lost on me that I've lost a husband and a son within 90 days of one another. Maybe lost isn't the right word in this context, but still.

Back in the spring, I was living relatively care free with the perfect nuclear family: spouse, 2 kids, 2 dogs, 2 cats, great job, home in the country. Missing now is the husband, my step daughter (well, she isn't really missing. I've seen more of her than my husband has since the separation.) And now my son has moved to college.

Me? I'm puttering around. Oh I have lord-a-plenty to do. But nothing I MUST do today. That's nice. And it's sad.

Maybe what I'm feeling is related to the empty nest syndrome. Or maybe it's related to all these changes that have taken place in such a short period of time. Whatever it is, I can deal with it. I even like it.

Freedom

I shocked myself this week with the radical thought that I might actually be enjoying my new freedom, in spite of the pain that led me here. Follow that with the fact that my only child leaves tomorrow morning for college, and you have an almost 50-year old woman with a bucket load of new found freedom.

It's exhilarating and intimidating all at the same time. It's a lot of fun for me to sit and think about my options, which are many. And considering that my job is portable only adds to the possibilities. But on the other hand, thinking of my son going away to college and how quiet (and clean) the house will be sometimes leaves me teary. That's natural. I think we're both going to feel some separation anxiety.

But just think about it. I can do anything. Or go anywhere. How cool is that? I can live anywhere I want. Even temporarily. I've been exchanging email with a woman with a home on the gulf coast of Florida about swapping our homes for 2 weeks in December. Christmas at the beach! And I've spoken with a friend in Asheville with a spare bedroom. I'd love that! I have family in Florida I haven't seen in years, and in Virginia. Friends in Ohio, Indiana, New York, Connecticut, California, Georgia, and Mexico. Oh the options!

I have yet another confession. The last few months have been hectic and I've spent a lot of time and energy rearranging my life in ways my husband probably wouldn't approve of. It's been so much easier to do the things I think are appropriate without having to get someone else's buy in - especially someone who doesn't care much for change. It's always been a bit of a tug of war - two people, one who doesn't like change and the other that lives for change. Oil and water. I like not having to think about how I'll sell something to him that I think is a good move. I am in charge and I don't have to convince anyone of a damn thing. I do what I damn well please. WooHoo!

It's no secret I love to travel. And I don't want to go forever. But a week here and a week there sounds like fun. I'm even thinking of going back to school to engineer a mid-life career change. But that may have to wait a few years - I can only deal with one tuition bill at a time, and now is my son's time. My time will come.

For now, I'm so enjoying my fantasies of where and how I might want to live my life. The options are endless! What fun. I deserve it.

Going it Alone

A while back, I wrote about the difficulty in breaking old habits we develop as couples. I had a hard time with that, particularly in the first month after we separated. But I'm getting better. Those old "couples habits" and expectation are slowly evolving into my own habits and traditions.

Wednesday of this week was a turning point in this regard. There is a neighborhood wine shop not far from where I live. On Wednesdays, they have tastings of wines from different regions of the world. They send out a newsletter on Wednesday morning listing the wines that will be offered that evening. My husband and I often went to these tastings together on our way home from work. This past Wednesday, they offered wines from Portugal and Spain. When I read it, I thought about how much I'd like to stop by there after work. My first thought was "I don't really want to go alone". My next thought was "why not go alone"?

And that's what I did. I went alone. It was a great experience. I chatted with the store owner, one of the employees, another patron. It was warm, friendly, and a lot of fun. I came home with two bottles of wine that must please no one but me.

Sounds like a small silly thing, but it opened doors for me in a way I hadn't imagined! I think I now have the courage to go to the movies alone. That's a big deal for me!

The past several Saturday nights, I've actually gone to a favorite Mexican cafe and had a late dinner. By myself. I have now started to look forward to it!

And this morning, when I heard on the news about the fabulous weather we're expecting this weekend, I started considering a day hike to a local state park. By myself! I'd actually rather go by myself than with a friend. Don't know why that is, but I'm thinking I'd have a fine time all by myself.

This is wonderful progress for me. It seems like minor thing as I sit here writing about it, but it's actually a big step for me to start thinking about enjoying my life by myself...no company, husband, date, or friend is necessary.

Going it alone may not be so bad!

Regret, sympathy, and sadness

I've spent plenty of time recently railing toward my husband for this terrible and painful place he's led us to. My anger is justified, and my pain is understandable.

In addition to my own torrent of emotions, I'm positive he's experiencing his own pain and horror. Sometimes I think not, but only because he doesn't show it. I have not seen him exhibit the sort of emotions that have spewed out of me these past few months. But then I'm a very emotional person and you can always tell how I'm feeling from simply looking at my face.

I often wonder how he must be feeling. Is he in pain? Does he miss his family? His bed? His dog? His favorite things - grilling on Saturday nights, weekends in bed and breakfasts with me, or any of the hundred other things we used to do that he enjoyed? At least I think he enjoyed them. Maybe not. Maybe I am fooling myself to think he was ever truly happy with me.

On a few occasions, he has said to me "don't think you are the only one suffering". That comment always pisses me off because it seems so dismissive of my pain and the significance of what has happened to me personally. But I think the point he is so poorly trying to make is that he is suffering too.

Which begs the question...why? Why are we both in so much pain? Why did this have to happen? Why did he let it get so out of control?

But then, on the other hand, maybe he is perfectly happy with where he is today. He has very little responsibility. But the flip side of that is that he has a lot of time on his hands to think about all that has transpired. While I am busy doing the 2 million things I must do every week, he gets to sit and mull over the current state of affairs. I'm not sure which is worse - having too much time on your hands to think about why the bottom has fallen out of your life or being overwhelmed at all the things that must be done by someone who often can't even get out of bed in the mornings due to inertia and sadness.

In spite of what he has done here, I am sympathetic to his pain. You don't stop loving someone and feeling their pain just because they did something that hurt your feelings. Ok, so he did more than hurt my feelings. He betrayed me - over and over again. But I still feel his pain. And my own.

I do so hope he is in pain. Not because I am vindictive or hateful. But because it would mean that he cared about me. And he cares about what has happened to us. And that he is human.

Lies

Everyone lies from time to time. No one is exempt from this particular sin, no matter what they say or how hard they try. We all do it. Some more than others. Sometimes it's even compulsive. The implication in the word "compulsive" is that it is associated with a mental illness or inability to not tell a lie, no matter the subject or need for a lie.

That must be the case with my husband. He's a compulsive liar. He hasn't always been like this. I wish I understood what the turning point was for him. The most likely explanation is his father - who did precisely what his son has done. He left his family for another woman, and never looked back and did not help support his family once he left. He left a wife with three sons, two of them in college. The youngest son was my husband, who was 16 years old at the time.

Over the years, he's told me stories about how cold and unloving his father was. I've witnessed it personally, such as the Christmas his father invited our family over for Christmas dinner and then wasn't home and has not since called or written to apologize or explain himself. That's pretty sorry...to invite your son, his wife, and your two grandchildren over on Christmas Day, they arrive bearing gifts and hopes that the relationship between father and son can be repaired. And then not to be home at the appointed time, and not to acknowledge a misunderstanding or terrible family tragedy that might have prevented the reunion.

I called my mother-in-law last night. I felt the need to speak to her as we haven't spoken since before the separation. I've always had a warm friendly relationship with my in-laws. There has never been any tension or issues between us. In that call, I learned that my husband had told her and me even more lies. Unnecessary lies, which must be the same as compulsive lies.

Except he told me months ago - and on more than one occasion - his family knew why we separated. Turns out they didn't. Oops. Now they do. What a terrible awkward position for both me and my mother-in-law last night. How painful it must have been for her to learn her baby son - the sweetest most loving of all her sons - had left his family for another woman. That's exactly what HER husband did. I admit once I found myself so far into the story and realizing she did not know this painful fact...I did not hold back. I let it rip and told the story in all it's ugliness. Perhaps I should have spared her. But I thought she knew. I am sorry she had to hear it from me - who was crying and blubbering so hard she probably didn't even understand half of what I said.

That's just another of his lies. What kind of man lies like that to his own mother? It's one thing to lie to your wife...I suppose. But it seems even more egregious to lie to your mother. Thank goodness he is in therapy. That's where he needs to be.

I wish I had never called her. But in a way, it's good the family now knows. Maybe they can help him find his way back to the kind, loving, decent man he used to be.

Here it comes

I haven't posted here in a while - no good reason really. Just didn't feel moved to write. Until tonight. Tonight, I'm angry. Here comes that anger that everyone from my best girl friend to my therapist has been nagging me about. The idea is that I need to stop wallowing in my pain and own pity and get mad. Get really really really pissed.

I think it's coming. It's here. Tonight I am pissed. I am angry at my husband and at everyone I ever knew. Just name one person I've ever met...and I can think of something to be angry with them about. How's that? My anger has arrived.

My list:

• I am ticked that I was left with this great big house that's falling down all around me to take care of ALL BY MYSELF.
• I'm ticked at the handy man who wanted to charge me flippin' $200 to do about $50 worth of work.
• I'm pissed at the lady at Progress Energy who would not SHUT UP today about signing me up for some stupid Progress Energy program that I repeatedly said I don't want. Before we hung up, I was so mad I was crying. With the utility company. How stupid is THAT?
• I'm mad as hell at the guy who took my money and then didn't do the work he promised and doesn't even have the balls to return my phone calls.
• I'm mad at the damn dogs for keeping me awake the last two nights. Don't they know I'm having a hard time right now and need my sleep??
• I'm mad at least 4 men in my life - my husband included. Hell, I'm mad at every man on the planet! They're all stupid worthless pieces of shit that can't be depended on to wipe their own asses. (There! THAT felt good!)
• I'm annoyed with my boss for expecting me to do something ASAP I should have done a month ago.
• I'm mad at the dishwasher, the shower in the hallway, and the front door. None of them work worth a damn. They might as well be a man.
• I'm mad at the lady at the YMCA cause she gave me a locker that doesn't work. Three times.
• I'm mad at the cat for barfing in the den just minutes after I had the carpet shampooed.

I'm just plain mad. Mad, mad, mad. It's like everyone asked for it - everyone insisted that I needed to get mad - and now here it is. Except they aren't the ones who have to deal with it. I am. They aren't the ones sitting here tonight desperately wishing for a decent night's sleep. They aren't the ones dealing with the bills, staggering college tuition that's due in 3 weeks and I have no idea where it's coming from, and a husband who initially left them for a much younger woman, but who is now no longer seeing the bitch, so now I'm not sure why the hell he left me. Musta been something. But I'm not sure what.

The buck stops here

I received an email from a friend this morning who is recently widowed. Like me, she is struggling to find her new self and figure out her life from here. One of the things she said - with regards to having to make scary and important financial decisions without her husband's help - was "The buck stops here is both sobering and exhilarating". And how true it is!

I feel exactly the same! Not only do I no longer have someone to depend on to take up the slack when I am working, out of town, sick, or being just plain lazy, but I also have no one to blame when I bury my head in the sand - as I am prone to do when I simply don't want to deal with something.

I AM IN CHARGE.

Wow...that's scary AND exciting! I've long understood that no one was going to take out the trash but me, however I am now also figuring out that no one is going to fix my life but me. I had given away all my control. From everything to the grocery shopping to my money. A financial adviser recently told me "never give up control". What he really meant was "pay attention to your own life, own it, and deal with it". And never ever never ever never ever give up control over your money. Never. (Isn't that exactly what you'd expect a financial sort of person to say?)

But the flip side is that I am also in control of the fun things, not just the scary things. I get to decide what color to paint the bedroom. I do not have to consider anyone else's preferences. Only my own. I get to decide which of my favorite trails to walk in the area. I no longer have to walk someone else's favorite trail again and again and again. It is completely up to me what I do for holidays, which wines I buy, and where I go on vacation.

I like knowing it's all up to me. I can deal with that.

Happy

A friend recently suggested that I write about a happy memory, to help break my pathetic slide into sadness. Excellent idea!

One of my happiest memories is our last trip together to San Fransisco. I was there on business, and my husband joined me for a few days. We visited Point Reyes National Seashore, about an hour north of the city. It was one of the most memorable days of my life. Point Reyes is one of the least visited of the national parks. That's both a good thing and a sad thing.

We went to watch the whales migrate from Canadian waters south toward San Diego. It was January, prime whale watching season in that area. While we only saw one whale on his way south, we found so many other wonderful things on this day.

We got to see the elephant seals having their pups on the beach. It was fascinating to watch! They birthed the pups, consumed the afterbirth (ok, had to look away for this...I admit it), and then cleaned them up. The pups were surprisingly mobile and active. They were beautiful. (Picture left.)

The landscape was beyond lovely. I could have stared at it all day. Especially with my husband holding my hand.

On our way back to the city, we drove up the coast and through the Marin Headlands. We explored the Golden Gate Bridge. Did you know there is a civil war fort under the bridge? And World War II bunkers on the bluffs overlooking the bridge?

This is indeed a very happy memory. One of the loveliest days we had together.

Moving forward toward loneliness

I'm making steady progress. This past week wasn't nearly as horrible as the week before. And this weekend has not been nearly as sad and awful as last weekend. That encourages me. Oh sure, I've had some very sad moments. And seeing him is still very hard. But it is indeed getting better.

Staying very busy is part of the reason I'm doing well, I think. I'm working hard and I've decided to completely re-do my bedroom. Make it mine. It is long overdue for new paint and carpet, anyhow. With the help of a few friends, I'm doing a lot with a little. It's a true friend who will come and help you paint!

In spite of all this progress, a new emotion hit me this week. It got my complete attention. Loneliness. I don't recall the last time I was truly lonely. I'm sure it's been many years. I like being alone. So it's not that. It's more than that.

My husband and I were very affectionate toward one another. We held hands almost everywhere we went. We held hands riding in the car. We even held hands sometimes when we slept. He was a great hugger. He's a big guy and has big strong hands and arms. His hugs were like being wrapped in a blanket of love.

I'm no longer wrapped in a blanket of love and it leaves me cold and lonely. And while that's a sad thing, it's not going to kill me. I won't let it. I've had the joy of that sort of love, and I will have it again, right? Please say yes. Please.

The first weekend of my new life

This has been my first weekend alone in the house since he moved out. It's been as expected - full of ups and downs - but overall not nearly as terrible as I feared.

I'm accustomed to sleeping alone, so that wasn't a big deal. He is a terrible snorer so I'm getting better sleep. That is, when I can sleep. And when I don't have to take Lola out to potty at 3am. What I didn't expect was to be hit with such loneliness. Saturday afternoon and evening were very lonely. It was a rainy afternoon and I wanted to see a movie. With my husband. No one else would do. Thankfully, I had the strength not to call and beg him to go with me to a movie. I do have SOME dignity, after all.

And then this afternoon as I was thinking about grilling chicken and pork chops for dinner, I missed him then, too. But that's to be expected. It's all part of the process of adjusting to singleness.

My wonderful and incredibly loving friends tried hard to get me out of the house this weekend. I had a number of opportunities to go to dinner, to go shopping, to meet a friend at Starbucks. Someone even invited me to meet at Waffle House at midnight for a pig out. Aside from the fact that I hate Waffle House and never intend to eat there again for the rest of my life, the invitation was appreciated!

Each time, I opted to stay home. That might not have been the healthiest choice. But I just needed to be home. Not out on the town acting like nothing had happened. It's my time to grieve.

The best piece of recent advice I've been given is to stay busy. I recognize the wisdom in that, especially after this weekend. I am so booked for the next 3 weeks that my calendar is a blur. So staying busy will not be a problem. I'll let you know if it works.

My biggest disappointment

I knew this separation and divorce would be hard on my son. His biological father disappeared from his life when he was 12. Not a goodbye, never a card on his birthday or Christmas. No phone calls, letters. Nothing. No sign of him since. We have no idea where he is or if he is even alive.

Now Easton has done the very same thing. Walked out. My son thinks he walked out on HIM. Of course, that's not really true, but I'm sure that's how it looks to a kid. He's 19, but he's still a kid.

Tonight at dinner, I asked my son if Easton had spoken to him before he left. The answer was "not a word". Nothing. Again, nothing. Not "I'm sorry this happened son, but let me know if you need anything". Not "take care of the house and your mother". Not even "good riddance, kid". Nothing.

How can someone do that? How can you just walk away from a child you raised since he was 6? A child you taught so much? How can a man just walk away from his family without even a goodbye?

My step-daughter and I have spoken several times. We've texted, IMed, emailed. She's taking it pretty well. Her biggest concern was if she'd be able to see my son again. They are very close. He even wanted to drive to see her last weekend - a 6 hour round trip. I love her very much. I could never ever just walk away from her. In my heart, she is my very own child. I do not want her to feel abandoned as my son does.

That's my greatest disappointment. That he hurt my son, who has already experienced so much pain in his life. And it will be the hardest to forgive, even for me who has a very forgiving heart.

Sunshine and gratitude

So I've spent the past few days with a very long tear-stained face. And I'm getting tired of it. I'm tired of myself. And surely my friends are getting tired of me. I want to smile. I want to feel the sunshine on my face and all that stuff. I'm ready to kick myself out of this funk and start moving forward.

Slowly, I'm getting there. I'm trying to be kind to myself. Sometimes I'm good at that, and sometimes not. I tend to beat myself up a lot and take responsibility for things I have no business taking responsibility for. That's an item for improvement.

And while I'm trying to pull myself out of the dirt, brushing off my backside and moving on...I'm taking time to be enormously grateful to my friends. Particularly my girlfriends, but there are a few men on my list, too. Just a few. Grin. I do not know what I'd do without Susan, Jennifer, Mitch, Mickey, Jessica, Jim, Mario, Steve, Chris and Jack (my cocker spaniel) giving me love, hugs, and millions of words of encouragement. What would life be without friends? Even a stranger or two have touched me with their actions and words recently. A perfect stranger approached me at the Y yesterday. She said I looked like someone who needed a hug. So she gave me one. I'll never forget that 10 seconds of human contact and compassion.

Lots of great advice has come my way recently, but one of the conversations that most sticks in my head was around the gifts in my life. Someone reminded me that although my marriage has tanked and I'm not taking it's loss very well, I still have many many gifts in my life. I have a great son who has been surprisingly supportive and helpful...he has really stepped up to the plate in the past few days. He's impressed me. I have a wonderful home (ok, so it needs a new roof, gutters, and paint....), a great job, amazing friends, my health, loads of good books waiting to be read. I AM a lucky woman, and I need to not forget that.

Love to you today. Hug a stranger today. You never know how you may touch someone's life forever with 10 seconds of kindness and compassion.

Moving day

He's gone. Moved out. Not lock, stock, and barrel...but almost.

Last night, I was a mess. I couldn't even breathe without crying. Today? I'm feeling much stronger today. I fully expected to need hospitalization and serious mind-numbing drugs when he moved out, but thankfully I did not. Oh I've had plenty of sad moments today, and at one point I had to leave the house...just couldn't take one more second watching him load boxes in his car. But overall...I'm ok.

I've cooked, cleaned, rearranged. All day. Organizing and preparing for the days ahead. One of my bestest girl friends took me out to dinner last night. Her parting words to me were to give up the big things to the guy upstairs, and take one day at a time. So that's what I'm doing. I have tomorrow all figured out. I hope.

Betrayal complete

As if my accidental discovery that my husband is in love with another woman isn't enough betrayal for one lifetime, I've learned a few other things today.

He is out of town this weekend, presumably at a living history event in northern Virginia. So he says. But who knows? He could be hanging with Ms. Allie this weekend. Well, once he gets home, I have some news for him. He's moving. And soon. Today wouldn't be soon enough.

We've been sleeping in separate bedrooms for quite some time now. Today, I went into his room to move some of my personal items. I told him several weeks ago I needed to do this, but today was my first opportunity. In shuffling things around, I noticed a set of files I didn't recognize. I took a look. Looks like he's been busy. Busy with things he otherwise told me that he had not done, or that he just didn't bother to mention at all. Collectively, these things point toward even more betrayal and dishonesty.

He's opened a post office box in another city. Hmmm. That's interesting. I found the receipt. And he's taken out his own cell phone account. Huh? We discussed this recently, and he didn't mention that. A secret, I suppose. Lastly, he's rented a place to live. Did that while I was out of town this week. He didn't mention that either.

All this is on TOP of the little issue I discovered Thursday night when I checked the cell phone bill online and learned that he lied about his diminishing contact with Ms. Allie. Nope...it hasn't diminished at all. In fact, it's robust and healthy.

Praise the Lord! He must be planning to move soon. I don't know whether to cry or to be happy. I do know I am more than ready for him to go. I want him out. I want him out of my home, out of my life. Out, out, out.

Flipside

A while back, I posted a list of some of the things I most appreciated about my husband - who just a week later told me he no longer loves me and is in love with some twit-whore he picked up on the Internet.

A therapist recently suggested that I also make a list of those things I resent about him. So here it is. It'll sound whiny and immature perhaps, but you don't get to pick your resentments.

• He never mows the grass. He'll pay someone else to mow and then gripe about the expense. And he'll complain about how stubborn my teenage son is about mowing. But I can't recall the last time he got out there and mowed it himself. It's been YEARS. In fact, he does nothing to help maintain the yard. Nothing.
• He doesn't do his share INside the house, either. We both have full time jobs. Mine more demanding than his. If I ask him to do something, he'll do it and be nice about it. But would it ever occur to him to do most things? No. Typical male, I suppose. But is it too much to expect him to clean HIS bathroom (we have separate bathrooms) or to clean up the cat yack in the den instead of stepping over it...without being told? Is he a child or an adult? He gets off his behind and helps out only when I make it obvious I'm annoyed, like when I'm slamming kitchen cabinets and bitching about the general lack of support. I got home yesterday from a week of business travel. Everything is just as I left it, including the moldy leftovers in the fridge, junk mail on the bar, and the AC that doesn't work properly and has needed a repairman for the last two weeks. DO YOUR SHARE. Act like its YOUR problem, too. Especially when I'm traveling and not here to fix meals, do laundry, call repairmen, and run the household....on top of a demanding full-time job. It's like he is on vacation when I'm out of town just waiting for me to come home and pick up where I left off. (Can you tell this is a BIG resentment?)
• The sum of the above two comments: he's lazy. His head would explode to hear me say that, but it's either laziness or apathy. Both are bad.
• He doesn't always say what he thinks and then feels resentful and pouts when his preferences aren't considered.
• He complains quite a lot about the 1) laziness 2) lack of motivation 3) aimless existance of a 19 year old boy who has ADD, depression, no real direction in life, a father who desserted him and now a step-father who is about to do the same and complains endlessly about him but never bothers to try to guide or help him. If you aren't part of the solution, then you're part of the problem. Get off your ass and be part of the solution or shut up about it.
• He brings up issues months or years later that should have been resolved on the spot. He recently complained to me about something that happened over a year ago. This was the first time I heard he had an issue.
• He is passive and unmotivated.
• He doesn't maintain his car beyond occasional oil changes (which he usually decides he needs about 30 minutes before we are about to leave on a road trip). The car has become a rattletrap and is limping along on its last leg. Take care of the damn thing and it'll last longer! This falls in the laziness category.
• He doesn't do what his doctor tells him to do or take the meds she prescribes. Then why go?
• He's done a lousy and irresponsible job of managing our money. I'm just starting to realize the full extent of the financial mess. I had a sterling credit rating when we married. It's surely in the toilet now, I don't have the courage to actually check. But I'll need to soon.

Whew! Do I ever feel better! I've been so busy crying my eyes out and moping about that it's actually refreshing to look at the above list. Good...that's progress!

What a great exercise. I'm going to post this to my bathroom mirror so that I can remind myelf daily of why I need to stop whining and take some control in my life.

He was very good....

My husband was very good at making me feel loved. He made me feel loved, smart, pretty, and very well cared for. I'm really going to miss that. There can't possibly be very many men in the world who can make me feel that way. Totally secure, completely loved.

But there's also a downside to that. He made me feel so loved that I am STILL reeling from his revelation that he is in love with someone else. You coulda knocked me over with a feather. His love insulated me from ever thinking he would be dishonest, disloyal, or hurtful.

My first thought is that how in the world will I ever find that kind of love again? But then my next thought is why would I want to?