Allowing sadness

Until I got in touch with my feelings last week, I thought I held no sadness and had healed all those aspects of letting go. Now I realise just how much I have been holding in; actually letting it out disguised as other issues.

I read an article recently about how our the thing we worry about most may not be the biggest or only issue - that my constant worry over money may in fact be concern for my kids or even just sadness and mourning my marriage.

I snap at the kids sometimes, and fret over the dog poop in my side yard (I don't have a dog). I'm concerned about my car, my skin, my health, the washing machine, the general moisture content of the air, and why my duvet smells like wet dog.

So it shouldn't have been such a surprise to realise that all this is probably mis-expressed sadness over my divorce. Leaving a marriage may a positive thing, and something I did to be good to myself, but that doesn't make it easy or all balloons and cake. It's ok to be sad, even though I took what I see as the correct path. I guess I have to remember that. And allow it to flow through me and out of me.

Decreasing frequencies & waves of sadness

The number of posts to this blog is diminishing as I guess I look forward into my new life. And as we separate emotionally.

I think less often about my marriage or my husband. I'm not so busy trying to fix him so the mental energy goes into other pursuits. I have less to gripe about, the bumpy part is done for now and we're just establishing new and separate lives.

It's a little sad, similar to when the dog died last year. It was inevitable; we all knew it was coming, but nonetheless it was quite sad at the time. I feel sad now - my ex is a lovely guy; we had a lot of good times and good memories. But our breakup was inevitable - of course it was; it happened - and it's time for our paths to diverge.

I thought I had mourned this marriage several years ago, as I began to understand the ramifications of how I felt. I mourned the marriage, the hope, the good times, the being new parents together, the holiday meals and watching our family grow up together. At the time I thought I had got it all out: I cried so much that my garbage can constantly overflowed with tissues.

So it takes me by surprise to admit the depth of sadness I feel today. It's not a hopeless Nobody will ever love me lack of love feeling. It's the same sweet sadness I felt when the dog died. His death allowed us a retrospective of our lives with him and how he opened our hearts.

It's the same with my marriage. It opened my heart and I had a lot of important life experiences during that time. I grew up, I learned a ton, I had defining moments.

I do miss him. I miss being married. I miss making a nest with someone. I miss loving someone so much that we talk and talk. I miss shared sexuality. I miss embracing someone. I miss light-heartedness, optimism and hope. While I am fully clear on why we split, I choose to retain the positive memories of love and hope.

And so I give thanks for the experience and gently lay my marriage to rest with a smile on my lips and a tear in my eye.

Lovability

As I gain perspective and distance from my marriage, I see more objectively how we arrived where we are. My part becomes more clear.

I became increasingly frustrated with my inability to rekindle my romance and reconnect with my husband. As frustration mounted, I became emotionally more self-protective. I did not want to let him in if he was going to tromp all over my heart in messy boots again.

So I hid my irritation less. I stopped taking initiative in our social life, or sex or pretty much anything. I turfed him out of the bedroom.

I'm not saying I should not have done any of those things, those were the best ideas I had at the time, but I see now how much my own actions damaged our relationship.

I really let my bitch hang out. I was cold, confrontational, questioning and impatient. I gave no vibes that said come hug me, I'm safe. I turned off lovability.

This is it

I read a recent article where the author says he trained himself to remember that "this is it". This is it. This is a good as it gets - that's another phrase I've always liked. Here, now, this is it and this is as good as it gets.

After so many years of wondering whether to leave or stay in my marriage, after so many years of trying to build a home together - both literally and figuratively - and then after so many months of finishing and selling the house, then all the moves... after all that, this is it.

I am separated, single, solo. I'm a little bit lonely in the love department, but then I have been for some while, so that's not a new thing I have to deal with. The beauty of our slow motion breakup is not having to suddenly get used to sleeping alone or missing romance.

There is no more trying to fix, no more what if. No more should I stay or should I go, no more what if the house doesn't sell? This is it.

No more blaming unhappiness on someone else; no more sense of helplessness. This is it - this is my life, my family and my future. No whining or complaining; no living in the future. This is it and I have to get on with life.

I realise the full extent of how much I have been holding myself back, waiting for something, distracted by my marriage. Now I no longer have that distraction, nor the attendant stress and unhappiness, I can spread my wings and fly.

It's not so much that my husband was holding me back, as I was holding myself back by putting a lot of energy into him and our marriage. Not that I was Miss Perfect and always trying to fix it. Sometimes the pure energy drain of being angry at him or feeling frustrated - especially the frustration - was enough to distract me from making better decisions. My brain was like a plant being overwhelmed by Morning Glory - an invasive weed that first climbs, then chokes and brings down any plant tall enough to climb.

I was preoccupied with my poor relationship - it filled most of my waking moments. Then I started distracting myself with late-night drinking or binge eating in front of the tv; whatever salved the wounds.

Solving my marriage took me away from work, my kids, myself. I had to review and reevaluate all my conceptions about love, marriage, myself, my husband. I had to figure out what I expected, what I wanted, what I deserve, and what I'd put up with. Who is responsible for this marriage and who can fix it? Having kids of course makes it all the more difficult - what is best for them? For me? For us? Am I irrevocably harming them or is a happier mother and a peaceful home worth it?

But now my actions are done, we are more or less settled into our new home and new lives. No more hoping for a different outcome, trying to change him or me, confusion, frustration or anger. From here the healing begins, the building of new lives and new habits, my independence. This is it.

A touch of Sadness

Today's a day when I feel a little sad. I indulged in a little worry and self-pity this morning. I do love my life and I do like the way I live but nothing is one-sided and today I was just feeling the opposite.

Separate Bedrooms

When my husband and I first had separate bedrooms, mine was almost empty. Tellingly it contained little content, decoration, or sense of occupant. A friend looked in and said it looked like a dorm room. I felt like an idiot.

As time passed, and as I redefined myself, my room also grew in content and personality. Occasionally I would try to hurry the process by on-purpose decorating, but that rarely worked and usually was mostly dismantled. Nice little allegory.

Now my whole house bursts with personality and idiosyncrasies that were not artificially created - they're just the outcome of our lives.

I love that I can see this living tribute to finding myself again and anew. It's a power and a joy.

Plus ca change...

Life feels oddly like life felt before. Of course there is less stress and anger, but the facts of my life are the same. Who I am is more defined, less reactive, and I tend to be happier. Because I really am now the only architect of my happiness, I know to choose my mood. I know to continue to tilt toward happiness.

Friends

In the last few months I have become aware of the abundance that surrounds me. Physical things, emotional generosity, love in action. There is so much good energy in my life. (I made a typo and wrote there is so much food energy... there's a lot of that, too.)

I'm so happy to reconnect with friends and have something to talk about other than bitching about the state of my marriage. It's the first time in years. It's a real energy boost. Now I want to see my friends, because I don't feel like a wet rag, dampening their spirits.

And my friends are so interesting! I love listening, being spacious enough to actually hear them. I don't have that desperate need to talk and actually get more out of listening.

Yesterday my friend and I had lunch then went away to write for an hour. We each wrote well and productively. I'm so thrilled to have a friendship that supports my goals and priorities.