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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The Physics of the Journey

There is a line in the movie, “Eat, Pray, Love”, about the physics of the journey.  The gist of it is that every part of a journey of faith is important. Every hurt, truth, ache and revelation is there for a purpose, and if one pays attention to them no journey is wasted. You may find the message a little different, that’s because we’re all different.

About two years ago, I threw my life to God. (It’s always been there, I just forgot I wasn’t in charge.) My only prayer; The knowledge of your will and the power to carry it out.  It’s not all that profound, but simple always is remembered when I’m in crisis. I say it when I’m panicked, scared, unsure, late, broken-hearted. Why is a stupid question in the middle of the storm. There is no solution in why something is happening. In that moment why doesn’t matter how is. How do I fix this? How do I get out of this? How will I heal? And ,what’s the next step?

My journey officially started when I found a job so that I could move away from my husband. There is an empowerment to having an income, even a spartan one, so long as I could make it month to month I was fine.

Next? I decided that the house and all of the stuff didn’t mean anything to me. This stuff had no way of taking care of me, and it all had memories I’d rather have forgotten at the time. When I left I was prepared to ask for  nothing in a divorce, except my personal items.  It’s where I was. I’m still there in respect to the stuff. It’s nice to have the stuff, but without the marriage it is of no use to me. My income only affords for a little bitty place. Safe and little bitty rocks!

My eating changed when I started to work, and through no effort on my part I started to lose weight. Cool!  Getting too small for my clothes was a novel experience. So was learning to nurture myself.  The mom takes care of everyone else, right? Well without a healthy mom everyone suffers. I’ve always had pampering rituals, long bubble baths, I learned to do acrylic nails (frugal is a good description for me.)

This last year I added pedicures and I didn’t just give them to myself, gasp, I let someone help.  Pedi/manicures are expensive so they are a treat, all the same it’s part of taking care of me. While I was on my own they were part of my calming ritual. Money was set aside for that particular use, for me.  Every two weeks I had my nails done and once a month my feet. As nurturing goes I found the practice very healing.

Now my hands and feet looked good and my clothes were falling off. Literally. I had no idea if I was going to lose more or not. Off to second-hand stores I went. There are very nice things to be found in those stores. Okay, so there’s lots of crap too. I’m willing to sort through the garbage to come out with a gem or two for .10 cents on the dollar  if I were to buy them new.  There’s no excuse for not feeling good in your clothes. None. I don’t care what size you are or your budget, a little effort goes a long way to feeling better about you. And this most certainly was about me.

It all became about me, it had to. I was too broken for anything else. One friend said I was too skinny. My husband didn’t notice. My daughter was proud of me. My son? Indifferent, as well he should be. smile

For years I’d drive by this building on my way to the Interstate with a sign, CNA classes starting (fill in the blank). It was curious to me that I kept noticing it even after driving by a thousand and one times.  I needed a job I could take care of myself with. Guess what? Certified Nursing Assistants make pretty good wages, not stellar. Good enough for just me.

Some research discovered a way to get the training for no cost. State registration, license, and testing fees were up to me to pay. Classes were no charge. I could afford that!

I got through classes, got hired by the facility which trained me and before I knew it I was working nights and on my own. Earlier posts will verify how terrified I was. Guess what? I can take of myself. I don’t have to worry about every little thing.  My journey brought my husband back into my life. Suddenly faced with the possibility of losing me brought him around in short order.

Grateful, doesn’t begin to explain how I feel about this on going process of reclaiming the marriage and me at the same time.

Major lessons?

I’m the only one who can properly care for me. And it’s nice when someone else helps.

Working has greater rewards than a living. I’ve discovered what I love, what a gift.

Do what I love, just for the love of it.  I’ve the energy for my passions again. Squishing my toes in the mud as I garden brings me joy.  Walking the dog brings me peace. Work gives me a sense of accomplishment. Bargain shopping feeds my ego and brings an impish grin to my face.

With or without him, I’m whole and worthy of a good life.

Find your happiness where and when you can.

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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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Eight Weeks Out

In some ways this has been a very long two months, and in others not so much.

I’ve discovered that I create too much trash for one person. Steps are being taken to reduce that. Yes, I actually think of these things. smile  At this point I’m shamelessly spoiled by only having to pick up after myself. Being by oneself has some nice benefits. Okay so my space needs attention at the moment, but it’s all my mess. Somehow that makes it okay.

Today my husband and I are taking a step toward the hard stuff. We’re going to pick out paint for the living room, foyer and halls. This might not seem like a big deal. In my world it’s huge. I’ve being doing all of the home improvement, work, repair for six years. He wants to do this. Suggested it. I see glimpses of the man I married. This is a good trend. I might even cave on a color. Might. I’m a brat remember?

Rent is paid for another month. Hopefully I’m be closer to moving home at the end of the month. The longer this goes on the more I see how, as difficult as the decision was, leaving was the best thing for the marriage I could’ve done. Had I stayed I seriously doubt we’d have made this much, if any progress.

So I left with my husband and he says, ‘We’re only looking at colors today right?”

Wing brow. This isn’t what I understood, but I roll with it. It ended up being the same trip we’ve had eleventy billon times. WTF.  I’m done with this browsing stuff, and yes I will explain that to him when I’m in better head space.

Tonight really threw me. Our grown daughter is hitting some life bumps. He’s upset, more so than I am. I suspect his reversion has something to do with that. I know he’d like to collapse into me and have me make it better for him. Em, yeah, no. He really has to get over this needy crap. It does neither of us any good. Hello! I don’t want to spend the rest of my life making him feel better. GAH!

Our kids will take their life licks the same as everyone else. Do I like it? No, absolutely not. I also understand our time to rescue either of them is long passed. If they are ever to figure this stuff out, better now than later.  Honestly, I worked hard to make sure they had the tools necessary to make it on their own. If they misplace or forget them, this is not on us.

Someone (a man) please explain this to my husband. I’m so tired of telling him it’s none of our business I could hurl. Like you wanted your dad all up in our business at this age? That would be a solid, no.

Every time he pulls this clingy, needy, but honey the kids, bull-shit, hope for reconciliation dims ever so slightly. It makes me crazy. He misses me. I GET that. In the same stroke I didn’t bounce out the front door of that house because I thought a change of scenery would be nice and refreshing.  I was suffocating from fear, anxiety and his ridiculous insecurities.

There is nothing I can do about his self esteem or lack there of. Were I so powerful, this would have been rectified ages ago. I really don’t know what it is he wants from me. So far a life partner doesn’t seem to be in his definition, and that concerns me.

We have counseling tomorrow. FUN!

Sarcastic? Me? Really?

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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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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.

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Here I am.

It’s been a long time coming, and here I am in my new place for at least thirty days. I even managed to get myself hooked up to the internet. This is generally my husband’s job, so it felt good to do it by myself.

He brought over dinner last night. We talked, cried and talked some more. I didn’t feel so overwhelmed with him on my turf. He’s been mighty clingy. I don’t do clingy any better than I do ignored.

I thought it would be a lot weirder than it is. At this point I know we aren’t going to get anywhere living together, at least I’m not. It’s so nice not to feel the pressure of being at the house. It’s just me and my pet rat, Maggie. Yes, I said rat. She’s a complete love and I adore her. The two of us make a good team. smile At present she’s checking things out, under my watchful eye.

Per status quo I forgot things at the house and had to go back. I tried to figure out a way around it, but couldn’t. The cost of the items forgotten couldn’t be justified. It was a difficult trip and very strange to be in the house. I’d only left a few hours earlier, but it still felt foreign to be there. It’s not my place anymore, and I’m okay with that.

Right now I don’t know if it will ever be ‘my place’ again. My name’s on the mortgage, yet estranged.

I have to deal with financial stuff today, and turn in my rental paperwork. I’m doing month to month. The least amount of pressure possible is what I’m going for. The sun is shining and it looks to be as if it’s going to be a beautiful day.

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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.

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It’s Time

I was speaking with a dear friend this morning and she pointed out the reason I was having so much trouble recommitting is because my husband broke one of the deal breaker rules, I established a very long time ago.

1. Don’t hit me. It will be the last time you see me.

2. Don’t lie to me. Three strikes you’re out.

3. Don’t cheat on me. I don’t share.

He’s lied, at least three times over stupid things because he didn’t want to deal with me.

Unconventional as it was, he cheated. And that’s a rock I can’t make myself climb over.

My next day off is Tuesday. I’ve made arrangements to stay in a place close to work. It’s designed for long term stays for Executives, Doctors, Nurses, so on. No need for me to fumble around looking for or packing housewares, they’re there. All I need bring is me, my clothes, food, my precious pet, Maggie and my computer, can’t forget that.

My sternum  feels cracked in half. And I’m crying again dammit.

I know this is what needs to happen, if there’s to be any sort of a change for us, me. I need to be somewhere to heal and take care of just me. I can’t do that here. So why does it hurt so fracking bad?  How is it the right thing to do is rarely the easy thing?

Someone please take the axe out of my chest.

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