What is it I am feeling?

Who am I! The question bears asking?  I am old enough to recognize I have self worth, and do not wish to waste anymore time living a life of ennui.  Better to be alone than with someone who strips you of your personal value, or takes pleasure in hurting your self, your dignity, your physical body.

Yet is there more?  Can I demand more?  I live for happiness, and the desire to see goodness. Joy.

My children come easily to mind. They are joy, even when they make me cry.  They make me smile and let me know how much they love me, even as I hope I show them how much I love them.  They are my pride.  I feel a fierce protectiveness for them, and their safety. For their happiness and dignity.


But I am tired. And I want to start living a life where I no longer live to simply gain approval from others, but from myself as well.  To be kind to myself, as I truly strive to be kind to others.  To be free of the fears I have held for a long time, and to finally, and utterly sit down to live my life without fear.  To let it go, the angst and expectations that to "not doing" means a degradation of my own value.  To have fun!  To take care of business and to do it well, on my own. To be strong without the fearof being strong.

6:02 am

6:02 am

I awaken from this scary dream where I had been kidnapped and forced to take a hostage while I desperately try to escape; unsure as to where I am, having been drugged and brought to an unknown location (a ship)?

My reality merges in, as I feel the breath of my sleeping daughter  on my arm.  She has crawled in again into bed with me. My sisters dog, whom I am baby-sitting while she is away, groans in his sleep, legs thrashing. He is in his own thick dream slumber.

Why do I feel so alone when I am not? I read an article online yesterday, about 10 years old yet still oddly current I think, about how divorced women tend to be unable to find post-divorce partners.  Men, on the other hand, appear to have a large selection pool of younger women waiting for them.  Apparently it is a numbers game, because most older men die out sooner or are still married, and that is only exacerbated as one gets older.  At 51, did I think I was an old hag? No, I did not- despite the nasty comments left lingering in the air, those particular molecules had not passed through our smoke, he being older than I.

I lament that loss, as I feel denied my happily ever-after story.  I had had expectations of a forever faithful and loving partner; and to this I was denied.  But the truth is, I don't want my exhusband anymore, not as the man that he has become.  He is perceived as a "prince" by his sister, or so it appears from her facebook site.  And I guess that is not surprising, though my hushed mouth and mind argues the unfairness of that point.  A man who devastated me, and mortally wounded our lifetime of commitment, falling short by opting to take on the easy and unaccountable "out".  I want karma to bite him in the ass, except when I don't.  

Tired of that tirade, I prefer to move forward,  as my ever blunt sister would (and has said, about two years ago), "He's done."  So am I.  I will let my lawyer pursue legal recourse, let her "do her thing", and I also must let go of the possibility that I will lose.   To not care anymore about him, and I am there.  To NOT release him (or give up), at the same time, his accountability of fiscal responsibility to his children AND TO ME.  Though the latter he has adamently and vocally refused to accept. 

Tough nuggets. Being a SAHM for 13 years, and working non-benefits part time jobs (three actually) so I could be around for the kids more than deserves his financial support, it requires redemption.  Otherwise, I am going to continue scrambling.  And that is the source of my fear, that feeling of having been taken hostage.  A needle held to my throat, harsh voiced men surrounding me to thrust angry and demoralizing behavior on me; trapped.

My wakeup call is figuratively and literally this:   I need to AND WILL take care of my business.  To reduce my debt, while taking care of the needs of my house, my car, my kids, and me.  Only now it will be accomplished with my input, and my input alone (well with requested input from the kids). And the support team I have been blessed to amass.  They are my support; I am theirs.

And man, that sucks.  Not being part of my original gameplan, this tough-as-nails attitude sprung from survival instincts I never knew I had.  Trying to keep the gentle thought and non-angry personality I prefer to embody as an individual.  But the truth is:

I am happy.  Truly and authentically happy.

Awaking from that dream, I realize that anger is not the issue; disappointment, sadness, bewilderment-- all that after almost a lifetime with him. Yes.  

I am left with the task of re-defining who I am.  Being a source of disappointment to another (despite the "pick me" dance I swam into into).... Not being the "party" girl he wanted, or the success story I wanted, the childhood feeling of not having met up to standards relived.  Its okay, its okay.  These residual/non-residual dreams of anxiety are normal, I tell myself. Shhhh it is okay.  Hush now, and be kind.

Today is Palm Sunday

"Divorce J*****, I am talking about. Divorce."

The words will be etched in my memory forever, as it was the first time he uttered it with respect to us.  I was in denial, refusing to believe that this could be possibly anything he could want.  Because it was my belief, no, my KNOWLEDGE, that we would be together forever.  We were family, in it together forever because we loved each other.  Family does not change. Or so I thought.  

Again, in that classic cliche, I did not appreciate the stereotype that was already into play. The role he had taken as the textbook narcissist who was "in it for himself now", and controlling what he and he alone wanted (his words).  In his case, that translated to total financial autonomy in what he had made over the course of our 20 years together without regard to his family, and a short skinny blond five years younger than me who gave him supportive platitudes to match his; she being in her own unhappy marriage.  They "found" each other, running toward each other in a figurative grassy field; abandoning the harder to deal with concepts of commitment, and spiritual self growth with their committed spouse at home.

I felt mortally wounded.  A huge gaping chunk ripped from my side, from where we had once been "cleaved" as husband and wife.  Our kids, experiencing similar potentially fatal wounds, we three clung to each other while set adrift in that tumultuous sea of grief, loss, fear, anger, bewilderment.

And after awhile, the seas began to calm.  Two and a half years since his last exodus, today we have been able to adapt.  The children shuttle back and forth between our home and "Dad's place".   I have erected a large life preserving boundary wall to prevent his acid and selfish behavior from seeping through our defenses, where in our homeland we have begun to heal. Flesh has grown back and sealed our wounds which are now covered with delicate new skin.  We laugh again, work together, we persevere. My goal is not just to survive, but to FLOURISH. 

 It is a constant challenge, and I have had to learn much; to constantly step outside of my comfort zone for the sake of myself and, importantly, for the sake of my children.  And if I rise above that ever present gully of fear in the pit of my stomach (with the help of my friends, family),  then I find I can do this.  And then in my moments of self-judging strength, I realize that I probably would have done most of these things anyway, except that he would be "telling me" what to do- thus releasing me of the responsibility of my actions...but again, I would be doing all this work anyway.  Because he was never home, or not interested, or just too plain angry/tired.  He would be screaming about our incorrect use of the toilet (which is why it keeps stopping up), or how I washed the car "wrong". Or how the pet animals made our house smell (and point an accusing finger at me about how I should negotiate their cleaning, which of course I always did, and alone).  For his presence never added richness to our everyday lives but more often than not, misery, accusation, and contempt.  And now there is peace.

While he may be happy now because of his increase in financial solvency, his ability to drink to excess without my haranguing him to stop; to live without my nagging that he needs to help with our household and family commitments;  we are vastly happier too- to live a life for ourselves; whereby kids and I go and do what we please. Even amidst the conflict that my poor kids feel, facing the conflict of seeing their Disneyland daddy every other week and on Wed night for dinner; I know they have grown wiser, agree that it is better this way (and I am always there for them to discuss how things are, to encourage as best I can, to support them in all they may be feeling..and God bless them, they do the same for me).

I am allowing myself to go forward, slowly but surely. To try to take care of things myself, while I try to maintain my house, my kids needs, my career, and last but not least, myself.  It is a daunting task.  But I will persevere because at the end of the day, I have to.  And when I succeed, well, that feels amazing.

Why am I afraid?

Why am I afraid?

The acid in my stomach is there, laying like a solid mass in the pit of my belly.  I could say it is for all the reasons I have thought before, completely outlined from my many, previous commentaries in my own little blog.  I am palpating my jawline,because it feels tender..and my mind goes to thinking I have a tumor growing there.  Irrational.

Its so real because today I know that I am alone. In a completely 100% unadulterated, on-my-own kind of fashion, and it frightens me.  The contentious interactions with the ex are still there but removed and now I live in fear of my lawyer (and her inability to be forthright with me, not letting me know about expenses and steps). 

The divorce is done BUT: I live in fear that my money won't last, and that I cannot adequately keep up with the upkeep of my home.  I live in fear of the other sharks and ineffectual people who cross our paths out of necessity and will try not to "do the right things" for either my kids or me.  I am overwhelmed, and feel the water rising now up to my neck.

I have in my mind that I need to take stock and make a game plan. Doing this makes me feel like I have some control or rationale.  I feel groundless and afraid otherwise. And very, very alone.

First financial, because it is an immediate need.

Second legal, because that is also urgent.  Big surprise: he is not paying for all that he agreed to and is sanctioned by our laws (though he is paying a lot of basic child support, it's not enough-we are drowning in debt).  And that is not fair; he has to help with our children's expenses even as he takes care (and well!) of his own  needs and that of his fiance (who jumped on board before he even left our home: WHATEVER).

Third, my health and my kids health needs to be addressed (finances notwithstanding) because that is also urgent.

Fourth, emotional content that falls under the category of "be kind to me", a difficult thing to adopt for the many reasons I have thought a million times before, but must seriously adopt if I went to resume my real objectives to become truly and authentically happy with my life.  I want to feel like I fully, wholly deserve to love AND like not just myself (which I have done so much more now that "he" is gone) BUT also to allow others feel the same about me.  His
abusive words of the past need to ring hollow and fade into history.

Fifth, my children need to feel and know the security that things will be okay. That though the relationship with their parents have a contentious note (no use trying to hide that), that they will be okay and able to maintain relationships with us both, without hurting the other.

Sixth (and does it really have to be sixth??), I would like to meet men (honestly, just ONE man) that will remind me that the idea of love, and romance, and kindness, respect and admiration is within my grasp as a woman.  Whom I can meet with mutual admiration and respect because they know that drinking and getting drunk in a bar isn't the only equivalent of having a good time. That the final footnote of my life won't be, that "she never recovered from the devastation of their divorce".  I have recovered from that acute loss, and the rest...? Well that will be a process ongoing for many years.  And that is both okay and normal.  Problem set is that I still don't know how to meet those men.  Online dating? Blech.

I want my mom. I want someone who will help me share the load of responsibility that bears down upon my shoulders, pushing down and risking crushing me flat.  I want my husband who used to share this burden with me both emotionally and financially because we knew this was what was best for our family.  Now there is an ex husband who has adopted (not surprisingly) a "me versus her" mentality that surfaces only when put to the task of needing to acknowledge me at all--the rest of the time mired within apathy as he focuses on his new woman, and her son ("their" family), along with the inserts of our children.  I am neatly and vehemently (with pleasure) now cut out of the equation.  Apathy completed.

And that is not a bad thing, because I want to no longer think about his craziness and leave it to the lawyer to get him to meet his fiscal responsibilities. It feels healthier for my mental state.  Anyone who deftly steps past the boundaries into mental, verbal, and then ultimately, physical abuse is not allowed to loiter in my world. Not anymore. I don't want that "look" of pity or "eyes averted' stance as I walk down the street; so now I try to project an appearance of "I am fabulous".  I know everyone has their own (pardon the expression) $hit, and most cannot deal with hearing mine.  So I also know it is not completely personal. But it still feels lonely.

Plus I can not ignore my blessings: including the job I have now. It pays well, and I love it.  It is the job that was always in my original game plan even when he was home; having been earmarked for "when the children are older".  The time for that is now, even as I had nor foreseen everything else. 

My friends are a support system within what I and they can manage.  They have thrown more lifelines than I can count.  I am blessed for that.

*****

I know what my boundaries are now.  I know that I can manage quite a bit, and still be okay.  I know that the extent of what I cannot manage will not mean life will go "down"; rather it means that it just needs to be put aside for now.

Does acknowledging all this make the fear lessen in any way? Yes, strangely, it does.  Not a single thing has changed since writing the first phrase above, "why am I afraid?". 

I still am.  But placed within a context of known boundaries seems to make it more palatable. What should my game plan fill in now? I don't know.  I don't know.  I want to leave this entry on an upbeat note,  i want to report all is truly fabulous, and I am over feeling the pity party (I am, I am).