On the Other Side

The name of this blog didn’t seem to fit. My husband and I have made a new start. And that seems to be the point.

This is a different marriage.

I still can’t wear my first wedding ring. The thought rather makes me ill. That marriage fell apart in a slow drawn out process. I saw it and refused to believe. I found reasons to stay, until there weren’t any. The incoming tide washed our castle away. As it crumbled we raised our kids and pretended it wasn’t happening with every lap of the tide.

When I started this blog, I had no idea where we were going.  I did know I couldn’t do it anymore. See house with chain link fence (I hate painting fences) the dogs, cats, grandchildren running in the yard. It looked close to perfect I suppose. Curb appeal with no real structure to support it.

Last Valentine’s Day all I wanted was to be away from my husband. The poor sot was making an effort, in all the wrong directions. Me? I had no idea what to say to him anymore. We spoke different languages. Venus and Mars. I wasn’t even allowing him to touch me beyond a hug. How very smashed I was.

This year? We’ve started work on a new marriage. We both seem to understand how fragile, and precious a marriage is. Rather like a newborn infant. Marriage takes constant attention, nurturing and above all mutual respect. Perhaps this time we won’t get so wrapped up in life we forget to take care of us. Really, take care of us.

This morning, on my way home from work, I was hoping I didn’t miss him. That he hadn’t left for work before I got home. I just wanted to see and hold him. So, very, different from last year.

I’m not smashed, not totally inflated yet, but not smashed. And god it feels so much better here than it was there. Here there is hope. Something I thought had abandoned me.  I’m so glad I gathered the nerve to walk out into the unknown. I didn’t know this is where I would be. I just knew I couldn’t be there anymore.

It’s good to be on this side.

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Muddling, Trudging, em, Getting Through.

I think a lot about coming here, and then I find a reason not to. I’m not really sure why. Maybe because I’m not skipping through the daisies all happily ever after. Or perhaps because I don’t like to dwell or whine. More than likely it’s a combination.

It’s been about a year since my life was blown to hell, not that it was good before…cuz it wasn’t. It all rather sucked and I was planning my escape. Nothing can prepare one to find out their spouse has been unfaithful. The manner of the betrayal isn’t nearly as painful as the betrayal itself.

My trust in my husband was complete. It sounds silly  now. How we enter into a contract with another person and give them everything in a basket, topped with an elaborate bow. In a mere mortal. A flesh and blood human with all the wonder and flaw that makes us so completely frustrating creatures. Starry-eyed and in love it never occurs how completely venerable we are.

Trust is hard won and so easily destroyed. At this point forgiveness isn’t at issue. I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t forgiven him. The trust? Now that’s fragile, a paper thin sliver of glass. Full of promise and hope as easy to fracture as spun sugar. I wish I could say, it’s over, I’m good, we’re good, but I just can’t. And the up coming anniversary has me very shaken.

The world before; he would never do anything close to cheating on me.

The world after; it happened. The unthinkable happened, and my view of the world will never be the same.

How could it? Do I think he’ll repeat the behavior? No, I don’t. The wound is still there. Healing ever so slowly it stretches the limits of my patience to places I didn’t think they could go.  It isn’t about him anymore. It’s about healing me. And you know what? I suck at it.

I’m doing the best I know how and the going is so slow. I suppose I’m holding myself to some unachievable standard by comparing my situation to  other people I know. And that’s pretty damned stupid. One can never judge one’s insides by another’s outsides. We never really know what burdens those around us carry.

So, if you’re in a similar situation and you still hurt (not a constant stab or ache) a once in awhile, oh my God, I wish this would stop kind of hurt. I’m starting to think it’s normal. At least I hope so.

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More Myself

The last week or so, I’ve been feeling more myself again. I’m not as raw, or as uncertain about myself as I was earlier this year.

As a general rule, I don’t care what other people think of me. The fact that most people ‘never’ think of me once out of their face is rather comforting and true. My confidence got a good thrashing when the marriage fell to pieces. Starting a whole new career? Insecure, who me? Em, yeah. I don’t seem to know how to do one change at a time.

At work, while I’m by no means as experienced as most of the women there, I’m good at what we do. Competent even, so if they want to make a fuss over things I do or don’t do, that’s on them. I’m done trying to make them happy. It isn’t an achievable goal. It’s better to enjoy myself while I’m there and pass it off to the next crew. I do what I’m supposed to, so they can bite me, or feel superior which they seem to do very well. Le sigh, no more dayshift stress. Done, over, not happening anymore.

I went to see a friend tonight. I had a gut feeling, which are never good, so I paid her a visit. When I got home my husband asked how she was and the only answer I could give him was, ‘the same.’  She didn’t agree with the separation. She’s not over it and I’m over her martyr nonsense. If she’s looking for an apology it isn’t happening. I don’t know what the hell she wants. Again, I’m done. There is only so much one person can do.

When I mentioned how defeated, deflated I’d been she gave me an incredulous look.

Really? Oh that’s right, you have all the problems. Alrighty then, you keep doing what you’re doing and I’m moving on. Sorry to see you fall behind. Shrug, there is no hope for it. She’s where she is, which isn’t even in the same universe with me. It happens, and I’m moving on.

I’m slowly reclaiming my house after leaving it to the men for three months. Note to self, don’t leave the men alone. They won’t vacuum and the carpet will be a nightmare. Oh yeah. It’s as clean as I’m going to get it. Shake my head. The kitchen cabinets are scary too. One is never sure what will fall from where, or when. Yep, men and cabinets don’t mix so much. Mine don’t get the ‘nesting’ concept of putting things away. I tried to teach it and failed miserably.

Tomorrow I have some clutter to file, toss or put away. If I feel brave enough, I’ll tackle the plastic container cabinet, maybe. smile

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Priorities

Life is still getting ahead of me, and I’m dealing with that. At some point I’ll catch up. For now it’s staying focused on what counts. When I was raising our children, I never lost sight of the ball nor did he. No two children had more dedicated parents, perhaps as dedicated but not more dedicated.

A week ago today I moved home as quietly as I left. I’m still not unpacked. My office is a mess, but the laundry is done. smile One has to take the little victories as they come. I’m still scattered on so many levels, it’s hard to look beyond my prime focus. Our marriage and my new career. The house won’t miss me for a bit longer. The garden? Well, that’s a never-ending time suck. When it blooms I remember why I pour so much energy into it. It’s not blooming at the moment.

We have counseling tomorrow. Money is the topic. This should prove interesting. In the last year I was willing to and did walk away from all of it. None of it meant anything without my husband. He’s the focus or should I say ‘us’. Our children are raised, now it’s time to create the life we want for us and the means to properly fund it.  Us, what a wonderful concept; warm and fuzzy, as it should be.

What I want is for the sensitivity to dissipate. The world is still so threatening in my current state. New beginnings are  normally unsteady places. I’ve been through one or two of them. This will pass, I don’t have to like feeling emotionally naked in the meantime.  I’m exposing myself at home, in the firm hope our marriage is on a new, better path.

On the work front, I’m working in a completely new field at a new place with dynamics I haven’t riddled out just yet. People, in general, perplex me. I’m not going to spend a lot of energy beyond what I need to know to move through the space in an efficient  manner.

Things I’ve observed along the journey of work places. There is always a double agent. I’ve discovered her, and we’re as good as we’re going to get. Busy bees, there are many of these. You know the ones who are sure no one works as hard as they do. Therefore no one else is as competent making everyone subject to contempt as seen necessary. More importantly, I found the rock. Rally around the rock and your world is less likely to tip. I got a jolt this week and I have little doubt, the rock, is a big reason why there were no after shocks.

Wish I could find a rock in my personal life. It would seem my rocks have aged and now need support themselves. My only hope is to lean on my husband. This is a leap of faith so huge, words fail me completely. The risk I took walking out is nothing compared to learning to depend on him again, and that is what I’m doing. Slowly, cautiously, creeping forward, it looks good folks, real good. Better than I had any right to hope for, and that’s hell-a-scary. It still beats the pants off of hopeless, so I’ll take it.

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I’m not the Same.

I suppose that should go without much thought, or saying. Who is the same over the passage of time? This last year has made me a more private person. The blog doesn’t count as it’s anonymous and most of you have no idea who I am, or were and likely never will. If one of you plucked even a tiny tidbit from my rambling which helped make your life easier, then it was worth the effort of keeping this up.

The marriage is healing as are we. All of my pain wasn’t caused by him, so I’ve a ways to go. Saturday will be the one year anniversary of my mother’s passing. Losing her has got to be the single most painful event of my life. Maybe that’s what made it possible for me to make the life changes I made. It couldn’t get worse, now could it?  Having nothing to lose is an odd place to live. Or should I say survive?

There hasn’t been much living this year and a whole lot of surviving. On our anniversary, the 28th, my husband presented me with an anniversary ring and asked me to marry him again. He was blushing. I’m sure he gets it now. I said yes. Plans for the renewal are in the works, at least that’s what he says. I’m not concerned with his plan making, he’ll let me in on it when he’s ready, and I can wait.

Me leaving him with plans is a huge change. I sort of like it. smile

When we spoke about the painting project it turns out he had two projects lumped into one. Remove popcorn ceiling stuff and then paint. Em, dude, no way. The current color scheme is bugging the crap out of me. We paint and then worry about the blinkin’ ceiling. TYVM. Instead of arguing with me, he and I discuss how I saw the project. As in much smaller than he had anticipated. No fight? Way cool. Being heard? Priceless.

I’m going to go home the way I left. Quietly without much fuss. I don’t want a fuss. In the mean time I’m working through my current isolationist attitude. I’ve never minded being alone, I rather enjoy being alone truth be told. Don’t get me wrong, I like to interact with people too.  It has come to my notice that some persons in my circle like to whine and pole vault mouse turds. Blank stare

My emotional state is still on the thin side. I tire easily in the company of loud persons. My patience are not rebounding to their former glory, that’s probably a good thing for me. I find I don’t have the interest or the energy to involve myself with persons complaining about situations which were either created by the whiner, or are completely beyond their self-righteous indignation.

Life is short. Happiness is fleeting. Settling is no longer on the table for me. My husband and I were either going to get through this or we weren’t. So unhappy were we both I was willing to take the chance, and it paid out big.

Don’t settle. Dare to live the best life of your willingness. Failure isn’t optional, it’s certain… get on with the mistakes for the rewards they supply.

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I’m Feeling Like a Brat.

Our counselor suggested that I spend more time at the house, oh say like three days. I spent one night and now I’m at the apartment. It’s too painful to go back and forth. Sorry, I can’t do half measures.  If I’m here, I’m here. If I’m there, I’m there.

Problem, I’m not sure it’s time to be there. I was feeling good about going home around the first of May. After the sleep over? I’m not sure, and here is where the brat part enters in.

All I saw when I walked into the house was work. The cabinet fronts need attention, the kitchen is tidy, but not clean with coffee on the cabinet doors. He doesn’t see this stuff, and I don’t think he gets how important it is to me. The house hasn’t been vacuumed since I left [six weeks]. I had to clean up my bathroom and bedroom. Really? We need to come to an understanding about the house. He works, I work and there has to be an agreement on the house and yard work. HAS–TO–BE – I’m a shameless brat. I don’t want to walk into 40 hours of house and garden work. If I do, what was the point of leaving to begin with. That’s how I feel.

Then he made a small comment about a payment going out on a day he didn’t expect and how that caused problems. Blank stare. If you know you have a payment of X dollars, it shouldn’t matter when it comes out. You take it off the balance and go on with your life. Right? I mean what does it matter unless it comes out before the pay period you indicated, which in this case you should wait, how could this cause problems?  This financial thing is huge for me.

I simply can’t think about going on the way we’ve been. His views on this subject really need to mature. We’ve always butted heads on money. Was I naive to think he would grow up at some point? Apparently so. My heart dropped with his seemingly innocent comment.  All the hopes I had of going home the first, dashed.

I’m feeling selfish to expect so much of him. I’m feeling self-indulgent about continue paying the rent on the apartment.

Bottom line?  If I go back without working these things out, we’re doomed to fail. All of the heartache for not. Damn, this is hard.

Tomorrow I’m going to the house and he and I are going to have to talk about the hard stuff. Us getting along was easy, these sticking points may prove more difficult. Reminding myself that this isn’t about settling is unnerving. The compromiser in me cries out to take what I can get and reality draws me up short.

Brat, yep, that’s me.

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Week Three

This has been the longest three weeks I’ve had in a good long while. Why? Well, not only did I move, I started a new shift at work, 10pm to 6am. Getting used to going to work on one day and getting off on another wrapped my head in knots to say the least, add to it the personal stuff and yeah.

My head is starting to clear which is so nice, you have no idea. This is what I was hoping for when I left. Sometimes one has to step out of a situation to realign the inner compass. Mine seems to have stopped spinning. A small wobble beats the hell out of the 180 and 360 swings I was in. No wonder I felt nutz.  I was nutz? Okay, I was. I admit it. Still am, just not so much at present.

The last couple of nights at work I’ve been able to keep things straight in my head and not make three steps instead of one. I’m feeling more myself and less like a muddle brained idiot. I rather like having a clear head. All of this chaos and drama had me wondering if I was ever going to feel normal. Normal is relative, I know. Boring? Perhaps, but I like an even keel.

I watch the chaos driven people around me and wonder what the draw is?  Calm is so much better. So, much better. I’m all about  a long bubble bath and spending hours in my flower garden just futzing around. I’ll leave the speed showers and 100 miles an hour to those better suited. I guess what I’m trying to say is, I’m not about just getting through life. I like being in it, surrounded by the moment. Getting close again is a joy and wonder, silly smile.

My husband and I made arrangements for a trip to our hometown, I thought I’d be doing alone. It was very reassuring to discuss things with him instead of arguing or feeling affronted. Our last counseling session was emotionally charged. Instead of trying to explain myself off the top of my head, which I don’t seem to be very good at. I wrote him a letter and read it.

I was so upset we didn’t talk for three days. He was smart to leave me be. Our interaction since has been reminiscent of when we were first married. Something has changed, I can’t put my finger on it, but we’re different. Fixed? Em, no. Better? Much. To the point that I broached the subject of coming home. We’re both leery of moving too fast, or making knee jerk reactions. I was surprised we were on the same page. It’s been a very long time.

It appears as if there is breath left in this marriage, and dare I say hope.

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Do you really need to know?

People can be stupid. Really stupid. Blank stare.

If one reads the blog one already knows and need not ask. If one doesn’t? Too bad, too sad.

I don’t have to justify myself to everyone in my world bubble. Really, I don’t and hence forth will not do so.

Persons I’ve talked with over the course of the year are having brain farts. “What happened again?” “Exactly what was the problem?”

I don’t carry a concordance of my life in my hip pocket. Chances are good you were never told everything or very little, cuz frankly it’s not something I speak about with everyone.

This isn’t a make the husband a monster contest, where I come off as the damsel in distress. Shivers at the thought. Yes, I would (at times) like to be saved, but it’s an idol wish and nothing more.

Here’s the deal. I don’t carry my woes into my day’ scattered across a chain linked to my ankle for everyone to see. Have the past few months been extremely difficult? Yes. The difficulty level is lower and these things don’t occupy my every waking moment. Even when they did, I sure wasn’t going to spew my unhappiness on everyone in my path.

Most days are very pleasant. I laugh and smile because life is too short to feel sorry for myself, or to cultivate resentments which only serve to make me miserable.

Maybe this trait is how I get fingered for being stronger than I am. If it looks like a duck theory of thinking. She looks happy, therefore she must be happy[all the time]. Em, that would be a negative Ghost Rider.  I’m not the type of person who easily shows emotion on my sleeve.

I operate under the premise that very few people want to ‘really’ know how I am.  Not only do most of them not care (try answering lousy every once and a while or better). Are they horrible persons of little regard? Absolutely not. They are a loving child of God doing the level best they know how with what they have, just like the rest of us.  It’s not my place to make people uncomfortable with too much information, so I don’t.

When you are in the circle who is confided in, you are expected to keep up. Really. I don’t want to list my crappy events so that you will understand anything, only in context. This is one of the things my husband did that got on my last nerve. When I love someone, I remember things which are important to them. If you’ve had a rough time of it, allowances will be made.

From the gate this wasn’t about bashing my husband. I’ve been fairly faithful to this promise. One does have transgressions and moments of insanity during times of great stress.

I don’t want anyone to hate him, think badly of him or not be his friend. This is an ‘us’ thing. He and I aren’t functioning well as a couple. (Big news flash I know. grin)  So, if you’ve forgotten why I left, tough. It really isn’t any of your business anyway. When my friend is having marital problems I don’t want the down and dirty.. just to soothe the hurt feelings as best I know how. It is understood that I don’t have a chance of figuring out the ins and outs nor honestly do I want to get tangled up in it. My friend needs support; support is given. No stupid questions. Maybe a gentle reminder to be kind no matter how angry, because that creates stuff to clean up later.

I don’t suppose this will be my last rant about this. People are curious by nature. People need to be on the ‘correct’ side, whatever that is for them. Sorry folks, no recaps, no reasons, explanations or excuses. If you fell out of the loop, too bad. I’m done tilling up the past for you.

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Week Two~Surprises

I spent months agonizing over not wanting to be alone, about not wanting to take care of myself. I was an IDIOT!

I worried about the pets, the house and the yard. Entirely stupid.

Oddly enough I don’t miss any of it; not even my bed. The only time I feel anxious is when my husband is buzzing around or bemoaning the time spent apart.

Being alone reminds me of how competent I am and always have been. I don’t need a bunch of ‘stuff’ to be happy. (nice clothes being the exception,grin)

I don’t have a billion things pressing on me at once. It is a huge relief. One I didn’t expect.

There is a book by  Richard Bach called, ‘Illusions’. One of the premises is if you don’t like where your life is going, quit and do something else.

This tends to run contrary to how we operate. I have found it is, in this case, exactly what I needed to do. And you know what? The world didn’t fall into wreck and ruin.  So I’m not so important as I thought I was. How wonderful is that? Smile

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Assignments and Reactions

I’ve been shirking my responsibilities. I’m supposed to be charting my feelings at least four times a day. Groan. The assignment is from our counselor and is designed to help my husband monitor his feelings. I feel like being a brat. At some point, soon, I’ll get over myself and do the assignment. Until then I’ll keep doing what I do; work through the feelings.

Reactions to the separation have ranged from disbelief to down right angry. No this wasn’t from our kids. They are upset, I’d be worried if they weren’t, but not hostile. We raised good people.

The reaction of one person, in particular, threw me. I’ve thought of this person as a close friend. I’ve know her since shortly after we moved here. She was privy to more information than anyone else and yet she was angry when I left. WTF?

How could I do this to my husband?  Excuse me? My husband doesn’t need a protector, thank you very much. It feels as if I’ve been tossed into the Victorian era. Home wrecker? Me? Oh save me the drama. She tried to make herself the good mother by saying my son (who’s 21) was eating at her house. My reaction? ‘Send the boy home.’ For goodness sake he’s a grown man, he can cook for himself. I know he can, I’ve witnessed it. dang

I’ve gotten judgement from acquaintances. That’s fine. They have no idea the depth of our estrangement and I’m not about to fill them in. From a close friend? That hurts.  I’ve never asked her to side with anyone. She’s friends with my husband as well, but this I didn’t see coming. She feels protective of him?  Me thinks she should live with him for a while and then reassess her position.

Seriously she said she feels protective of him. Blank stare. Protective of the abuser, you’ve got to be kidding me. We haven’t spoken since last week and unless she calls we won’t be speaking anytime soon. There is only so far I’m willing to be pushed. To be look down at for trying to make things better isn’t a line I’m willing to cross. Apparently our friendship has reached the limits of its capacity.

I’ve been here before (not often thankfully). Someone I thought was a friend, only to discover there were underlying fractures which made the relationship impossible. It hurts like hell every time. For it to be the person I’ve trusted with my inner–most–self makes it all the harder. I simply cannot wrap my head around abandoning a friend because I disagree with them. It confounds me. Were I engaging in self-destructive behavior, I could understand. It sucks rocks to watch someone you care about beat themselves up in life when it is unnecessary.

My situation is quite the opposite, from my point of view. To say I’m confused would be an understatement. Persons who don’t know me or the situation anywhere as well as she does have given me strong support. Given she’s the odd one out, I’m forced to conclude she’s alone in her views.

I’m not overly happy with being out of the house. And yet, I can’t make myself regret my decision. If nothing else, I feel better, safer.

Life is too short to live waiting for other people to change.

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