I have been clunking away on my ten year old laptop. No flickr, no twitter, no iphoto or itunes. It's been tough. All my coping mechanisms gone. I have ordered a new macbook pro and am eagerly awaiting it's arrival.
I rented a house today. Damage deposits paid. Wood ordered for wood stoves. Furniture to beg, borrow or steal.
A new life to begin.
I have taken a second on-call serving job at a local fine dining establishment as well as being a teacher's assistant at the school part time.
Things are coming together.
And falling apart.
The kids are doing well. I am worried about them. I will do my best. I wake up each morning and think that i am going to make it the best damn day possible for them. I wake up in the middle of the night to find them all in my bed with me. We sleep soundly. Happily together in sadness and fun.
I miss the dogs and the kitty.
I thought writing about depression, hospitals and suicide attempts was hard.
That was nothing. Nothing compared to this.
The real emotional toll and burden.
My marriage is over. It was over a long time ago. All of these days, weeks, months have been deliberate steps that i have taken to end the marriage. I never intended to cause so much pain.
But. I have been in pain for so long. I have cried so many tears over the years. And now. Now, i have no tears left. My heart has turned to stone.
For now.
I am focused on the kids. Making this as easy as possible for them. The things that i have put my family through this year. I am ashamed. I hope.
I hope that, in the end, as we walk these steps i have made some choices which were right. That in the end they will think i was a good mother. They will remember the hours and hours i spent playing at the school. The driving back and forth. The snuuggle times in my bed. The sleepovers in my room.
Not that i was the one who left the house. I was the one who ended the family.
The final guest post, by my husband, in poetry
sept 17th, 2007
you told me the day
i began losing you
was when our youngest son was born
sept 17th, 2003, today
i don't remember it, you said
i read the paper, went to work later that day &
your heart started the s l o w
unconscious process of
leaving
i understand how it happens
the little hard things we do to each other
(i'm thoughtful, in that way)
i can see it now, in reverse
the sequence of events that lead to
the inevitable
wreckage
the tragic, untimely
death
of us
& all so unnecessary, so much harder
than the birth
as if since we've run a degree out of parallel, ever so slightly
off course, uncharted, away;hearts
split, so
gradually, you don't notice, until the two
are this
apart,
that it seems improbable to find the way
back again
~shane
The thing about all of this, this seperation, is that it makes me lonely for what i used to have. The things that the years have taken from me.
I miss the man i married. I miss my youth. I miss life without kids.
When the kids are with their dad i know they are in good hands. I don't worry about them. Hard as it is to say, i don't miss them. I am enjoying the time alone. The time to think. To be with myself. It's like a first date. What are my hopes. What are my dreams. What kind of music do i like. What are my hobbies.
The condo i have rented is in a resort. On the lake. There is a private beach, a swimming pool, golf. They call this place the divorce resort. This is where everyone goes when they are in the midst of marital strife. It's easy. Walk in to furniture, dishes, even towels.
Each morning i wake up and watch the fog lift over the lake, the sun struggle it's way out. I am struck by the beauty of my hometown.
People canoeing over to the local lakeside restaurant for breakfast.
I like who i am. I like being free from depression and anxiety. I like feeling like a normal person. I like the weekends working crazy lunches at the bistro. Coming home to count my tips. Sitting around in my underwear. Listening to music.
I don't like the thinking. Thinking about my marriage. Forced to make a choice. Never knowing the right thing to say. Afraid of more confrontation. Afraid of the fighting. The sadness. The burden i have placed on my husband. His deep sadness. Still loving. But ready to let go. Accepting the thought that i may be alone forever. Yet, somehow, at peace with that.
Life it still goes on. The reality of single parenting is setting in. The craziness, the busy days, the lonely nights. The sadness.
The confusion.
Shane goes from one mood to another from morning to night. One evening he tells me it's over. We drink a bottle of wine and make toasts to the end of a marriage. The end of a life together.
I spend the next day immensely sad. Grieving the loss of a life i could have had. Feeling the slightest bit relieved. Finally a decision.
Then the next night he wants to work it out. Promising a wonderful life together. Together as a family.
I am torn. Hurt. Confused. Asked to make a decision that is impossible. How can you make that kind of choice. The burden of never knowing if the choice was the right one. Knowing that that decision will change the life paths of my four children, my husband and myself.
Knowing how hard it is to change. Knowing that people very rarely change.