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.

Read Full Post »

There I am!

Sounds silly, but it’s the truth. I see me, and yet I’m not there yet.  Given my nocturnal work hours, I decided I’d have to do my gardening on my schedule. The neighbors think I’m loopy for sure. My husband has a flood light to work on cars. Take one very long extension cord add light and garden at night. The weeds are still winning the war. I’ve taken some decisive battles though, so I feel good about that.

Being interested in the yard at all is nice. The roses are blooming. They always remind me why I do what I do. Is huffing roses against the law? Grin

My basic, boiled down to the point of brass tacks problem? Lack of trust. Time takes time, as does new history on which new trust is built. It’s hard to invest without blindly trusting. The trust of our marriage was destroyed. Not torn, injured, dented, or scuffed; destroyed. If that weren’t enough the best friend I had here (we’ve lived all over hell’s half-acre) dropped me on my ass when I moved out. Double whammy. Clutching chest, grasping imagined jewel encrusted dagger where it’s lodged in my heart.

My prose was a bit purple that last bit? Okay, we’ll forego any further embellished drama, even though it is ever so much fun to write. Me in a mood? What?

Today I took our daughter to be fitted for her wedding dress. The wedding dress for the occasion I dreaded dealing with if her dad and I were still separated. I really didn’t want this to interfere with her magical day. One source of stress off of my plate.  How did the dress fit? Em, well, ah, it, she’s lost 20 lbs. We were able to trade the one we ordered for one in the store. Fist pump, YES! The fitting went well.   My baby!  She only belongs to him when I’m mad at her. smile

The road to recovery is a long one. Shorter than if we’d divorced, but still a grind. Things were so much simpler when we were young. The sting of love was shorter lived, no less painful, just shorter.

So, I’m glad to be home. Happy to give the neighbors something to talk about. Okay, thrilled with that one. My husband and I continue to work well together. Yip!

On the flip side I’ve got to speak with this friend. I’d rather ignore the entire situation. I really would. The panic in my chest says that’s not going to cut it, so I’ll find a way to suck it up and talk to her. Chances are good nothing will be resolved for us. For me? Once I tell her how I feel I can put it to bed. And this really, really needs to be put away.

Read Full Post »

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.

Read Full Post »

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.

Read Full Post »

Old Wounds

I didn’t end up in an apartment by myself on a wild hair. It wasn’t impulsive. I’m sorry it feels that way for him.

My husband came over this evening. He’s being clingy again. groan

Worse? He spent the better part of an hour trying to get me to ‘understand’ why he didn’t drop everything and come to me when my mother died, last May.  It’s as if he thinks if I could see things from his point of view it wouldn’t be so painful. Em, let me think; no.

I was with my mother when she died. I cannot express how grateful I am to have been able to be with her in those final days. What I couldn’t have predicted was my husband’s reaction when I called to tell him. He went on a tear about how work was crazy. He had the pager. It was a long drive and he didn’t know if he was coming. Excuse me? Are you kidding me?

His sister was called and she spoke with him. After speaking with his sister he decided he could make the trip to bring me home. Why thank you. How thoughtful. To say I was devastated would be an understatement. Our conversation this evening brought back the pain involved.

To recap; my mother dies, he doesn’t know if he can get away from work to bring me home or be with me. I’m supposed to understand how much stress he was under?

He has two brothers and a sister. When his mother died he didn’t have to worry about any of the details. They took care of it as a family. I have one brother, who cannot be depended upon. An 89 year old father to support while making all of the arrangements for not just my mother’s funeral, but my father’s as well. Why? Because dad asked me to. One does not say no to a devastated man who had just lost the love of his life. They were two days short of being married 68 years. They met when dad was 15 and mom was 12.

My cousin helped me, god bless her. Other than her, I had no support. None, nothing and my husband goes flaky on me. Really?  My brother’s daughters needed my support. Of course I was there for them. All I wanted was my husband, and I had to fight to get him to come. When he did get there he was emotionally distant and wrapped up in how it made him feel. Gee I can’t imagine why I was hurt beyond belief.

Now 10 months later he’s trying to get me to ‘understand’. Gawd this seems hopeless.

He reports in his present distress the house is a mess and I’m not to go, cuz he’s going to fix it. And I’m supposed to believe this?

A step forward and four back. I see a three month lease in my immediate future.

Read Full Post »

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.

Read Full Post »

Week One Report

This has been an eye-opening week for both of us.

I’m doing much better than I thought I would. I’m having allergy problems with my pet, as we usually dwell in separate rooms. The medication seems to be helping with that. I don’t want to send her back to the house, then I’d really be alone. It sounds weird, but it’s the truth, the rat’s good company. She’s a comfort and I’d like for her to stay.

The work front is going well. I survived the shift that tried to kill me, and I’ve been hired full-time for a different shift. Fingers crossed that my body is better suited to this one. I don’t like to admit it, but I shouldn’t do the things I used to do with impunity. No, I’m not old. Middle age has cruelties of its own. Cruelties I’ll take over being twenty something again in a New York minute, thank you very much.

At any rate, I have my husband’s undivided attention at present. I don’t think he thought I’d ever walk out the door, let alone stay away. We’ve gotten along better in the last week than we have for years. Sad, I know. Tomorrow is our first counseling session with my counselor. It will be interesting to see how that goes. She knows both of us and has promised to give us exercises to do in order to rebuild the relationship.

I’m feeling more hopeful at this point. We’re getting along. He’s stopped the clingy stuff, which is very good. There’s been no begging or hollow promises, which surprises me to be frank. It’s a refreshing change.

Of course if living apart is the only way we’re going to get along, I’m happy to stay where I’m at. Getting along apart beats the $&^% out of living together the way we were.

Maybe, just maybe we still stand a chance.

Read Full Post »

Packing

I’ve been gathering up some things this morning and I was struck at how easy it’s been to pull out what’s important and abandon the rest. It goes with what I’ve said for years. Stuff is nice. I like my stuff. In the end it’s just stuff and stuff comes and goes.

There are things I’m leaving because I have no place for them. There are clothes I can’t wear this time of year. As I look around I realize how little much of it means to me. It used to, but somehow without a solid relationship it really doesn’t seem to matter.

I’ve got bills to pay and clothes to pack. The computer will be the last thing into the car, so I can find a nice secure spot for it among my meager belongings, mostly clothes and must have my pillows.

I’m oddly calm about all of this and have been since shortly after the decision was made. Facing something and actually doing it are so different. Indecision is the painful space of life. This isn’t a rash decision. Lord knows it’s over due, I just couldn’t take that step. One more chance. One more this or that. Yeah, well sometimes that works and sometimes it doesn’t.

At this point I’m wondering how long I’ll be gone. A month, three or more? We’ll just have to see how it goes.

Read Full Post »

The Day After – Save Me!

So it would seem my bringing up our counseling in a very noisy, busy, restaurant rattled him more than I thought. Honestly I think it’s the counselor I mentioned more than the place, but anyway. This counselor knows both of us. Gasp, someone who could call his nonsense!

We went out to dinner with friends and had a very nice time. Or so I thought. I’m bopping around doing what I do and I find him in the dining room. In the dark. Okay. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Alright then,” and I go on about my business. This whole drama king thing is on my last nerve.

Twenty minutes later. I’m in the kitchen. He comes in and sits on a bar stool, staring at me expectantly. Really? So I ask, “What?”

He doesn’t answer. I’m close to glaring now. “Dump it. What’s up?”

We are back to how ‘he’ feels. What ‘he’ expects. What ‘he’ heard me say. (which wasn’t even remotely close to what I meant.)

I commence to do my level best to explain my position. He doesn’t get it. I start to cry. Okay, I was sobbing. I seem to be doing that a lot lately. See this is why we need counseling, I don’t seem to speak his language.

His response? He wants to comfort me as I comfort him? huh? This is just so twisted.

I finally stopped crying and tried to escape him outside for fresh air. He follows me. Big surprise. He’s still talking. I’m sort of listening and wondering who called me while I was bawling my head off. As I head into the house I pull my cell from my pocket and connect to voice mail.

OH! He’s not done talking. le groan. He’s upset at how rude I am. Fine. I called back my friend, answered her question and then faced him. Because the world revolves around him. I explained I thought he was done and I wondered who had called. He forgave me and turned toward the sink, saying, “Don’t ever do that to me again!”

Oh really? I went upstairs. If I’d opened my mouth I’d have never gotten to bed, and I had an appointment in the morning. He’s issuing me orders now? I $#@!@*& don’t think so.  I ruminated yesterday. The answer? I need to live with myself for a while. I checked out extended stay places. No, don’t go to the hourly dives with a ‘hot tub’ in every room. Shivers. Ick. No, there are executive suites for extended stays. Mostly business trips, but it works for my purpose too.

I’ll be scoping them out after work tomorrow. Gah! I didn’t want it to come to this.

Read Full Post »

Interesting Conversation

This week has been a bizarre mixture of sublime and eye-opening moments.

The sublime? The stars aligned and all of my daughter’s wedding party could be at the store to choose bride’s maid dresses. It only took about an hour, another fifteen minutes for them to dress the flower girl. Then I was abandon at the cash register with a very cheerful sales person, as she read our order back to me. Dazed is a good description. It was like getting sucked back in time to when they would play dress up in my living room. The chatter and squeals were delightful. Have I mention how much I love this bunch? Yeah, I do. Pat my chest, my girls are all grown up.

My husband, who hasn’t been involved in this sort of thing, oh since, em, never. (Not a single dance or prom) Now confesses to feeling left out. Huh? You really wanted to look at dresses with squealing young women and not a man item in sight? Bridal shop. Remember? Solid girl, wall to frilly wall. I said if he wanted to come for our daughter’s dress fitting he certainly could. He winged a brow at that.

The real deal? It’s killing him that I have money and he doesn’t know how much. Too bad so sad. My sanity money will stay right where it is. It was a gift from my father and has nothing to do with you.

I went to see my counselor on Friday as we spoke I kept hitting on the point that I was stuck. I have no idea how to move forward. She suggested until I felt fully heard it was unlikely that I can. Great. More waiting for him. Crap!

She suggested that we see her together. This is not someone my husband would have chosen. When I told him what she said, he went a bit unhinged. He scowled that we shouldn’t be discussing this in a restaurant.  Really? I’ll spare some of the things he’s brought up at the dinner table; at a restaurant.

Earlier in the day he apologized for not getting me flowers this week. I told him, he didn’t have to get me flowers every week. His reply? Yes I do.

Okay, so this about me is it?

We had a quiet evening after the counseling conversation. A couple of hours after we got home, he told me he needed me. Now that’s a news flash. I answered, I know.

No, he says, I need your support.

Say what?  I draw my knees to my chest in the chair I was sitting on.- I’m not going to comfort you while you cry about how you’ve treated me.

He claimed that wasn’t it. We are not convinced in the slightest way possible.

He’s scared. I get that, so am I. To look for me to support him in that is ridiculous. It’s like tearing down the shop and expecting me to help him rebuild it.  I didn’t tear the damned thing down. Deal with it.

I was an accomplice to how long this situation was allowed to carry on. He’s the one who is solely responsible for the state of his life. I won’t, can’t help fix that. It’s not possible. If it could have been done, it would have been down a thousand times over with results.

And so here I stand wondering, again, what the hell I think I’m doing?

Plan A is solidifying whether either of us like it or not. I don’t feel married. I’d rather be alone most of the time. Plan B, is looking less likely with each passing day. le sigh.

Read Full Post »