It’s The End of the World

That moment when you realize that it would actually be best for all parties involved if your ex-husband’s relationship with his “new” girlfriend actually works out.

Yup. That just happened.

I can clearly see that if his relationship with her does not make it, things will become very difficult for all of us. Most especially my children.

Let’s just leave it at that for now.

If you had told me, a year ago, that I would be thinking this thought. Today. I would not have believed you. Yet here I am.

Interesting.

No More Tears

For now at least.

I think, again, I am all cried out.

For now at least.

I am not done healing.  Deep down I probably knew that.  But the last two months have been very good.  I almost forgot how sad I had been.  I have had the odd low day, low moment.  Overall though, things have been good.  But I am not done healing.

Through the tears and tears and tears of the last week, ten days, I swing from reason to reason to reason of why I can’t seem to stop crying.  Of why I am so anxious.  So many reasons.  Too many reasons.  I think it all circles back to my divorce.  Being abandoned.  Being lied to.  Having lost my voice.

And it has been one year since I started suspecting the ex was having an affair.  It has almost been one year since he walked out.  It is going to be a tough, long couple of months.

A friend told me an interesting analogy the other day.  One of a cocoon and a butterfly.  She said, “How do you think the butterfly feels as it is trying to break free of the cocoon?”

 

 

If I Lay Here

If I lay here…

The world will continue without me.  The sun will rise.  The sun will set.  The rain will fall.  The leaves will change.  Fall will turn to winter.

If I lay here…

I risk falling into despair.  I can feel the pain.  I feel the heartbreak.  I feel the betrayal.  I feel the discord.

If I lay here…

I can start to let go of the regret.  I can start to let go of the past.  I can start to let things be.

If I lay here…

Separate from him.

If I lay here…

I can feel my breath.  I can feel it filling my lungs.  I can feel it lifting my stomach.  I can feel my heart beating.

If I lay here…

I can start thinking of the future.  I can start thinking about my dreams.  I can decide what I want.

If I lay here…

I think about someone new.  Do you know that I want you to lay here with me?

If I lay here…

I yearn to be touched.  I want to be held.  I want to feel protected.  I want to feel your skin on mine.

If I lay here, will you lie with me and just forget about the world. ~ Snow Patrol

Nothing Left to Lose

And I don’t know how hard this wind will blow
Or where we’ll go

~Mat Kearney

Evidence.  It keeps cropping up.  Taking the time line further and further back.

He left in January.  He says they started dating after that.  I know this is not true.

I find a charge on the credit card bill for a hotel room.  In December.  The night before his birthday.

I hear that she left her husband in November.  Because she was having feelings for someone else.  Barely one month after her first anniversary.

In September, of last year, for the first time in all of his 16 years of travel, a flight is cancelled.  His new life begins?

I am certain their affair started 9 months before he left.  Does it matter?

I don’t know what to feel.

If the affair had been going on for many months, what does that say about my marriage?  For those months.  The lies.  The truth.  Was there any truth?  The family time together.  The family vacations.  The special times.  The love.

If the affair had only been going on for a few months, what does that say about my marriage?  That he could so easily leave.  Seventeen years vs 4 months?  How?

I keep being reminded that I need to move on.  Time to move forward.  Every day.  Every breath.  Every step.  I try.  And some days I am successful.  And some days…I am not.

I don’t want to feel.  Not for him.  Not anymore.

Moments

So tonight I find myself trying to move forward in a way that will help my kids.

Today they went to ex-beloved’s apartment for the first time.  Where he is living with his girlfriend.  She was not there.  And they have yet to meet her.

My son, who I was worried about the most because he is a worrier and very anxious, actually enjoyed going to the apartment.  I know he initially did not want to.  In the end, I think he did it to please his father.  He liked the apartment and commented on how nice it was.  He said it was like a hotel.  While I appreciate that it means it is not a “home” in my definition, he obviously thought it was exciting.  And of course it is exciting.  It is new.  It is flashy.

My lack of enthusiasm worried my son.  But let’s admit it.  To you, not to my son.  Hearing about ex-beloved’s new apartment and new life, is not really worthy of enthusiasm from me.  It was hard to hear how rich the girlfriend is (interpreted from the kind of car she drives).  It was hard to hear about what the apartment looks like (ex-beloved finally has the apartment he has always dreamed of…he just had to ditch his wife and kids to get it).  It was hard to hear that he is excited to go there.

It’s moments like these where I find it all a bit too much for one person to bear.  It’s moments like these where I find myself wishing that my kids did not talk so much to me.  That they did not share so much.  It’s moments like these that are sometimes just too hard.

It’s moments like these where I have to take a deep breath.  Where I have to remind myself that I am their mother and will always be their mother.  And while I was replaced as a wife, as a partner, I cannot be replaced as their mother.

It’s moments like these where I wish that I had a bit more time.  A bit more space to myself to start living my own life.  To be worried less about their lives.  Where I wish I did not always have to be the parachute for everyone else.

Who is my parachute?

How to Save a Life

I originally posted this on my other blog.  When I read today’s daily prompt, I immediately thought of this post.

I am not sure what this says about my sense of humour.  You will understand when you read it.  However, when I think back on this night, I have to laugh.  Because if I don’t I might just cry.

life's journey

So.  My dog.

Really, he was not meant to be my dog.  I am not even a dog person.  But, in the end, he is my dog.

Tyler joined our family in 2006.  He wasn’t the dog we were supposed to get.  The dog we were supposed to get was a black lab and his name was going to be Magic Bubbles Puppy, or something to that effect, named by our daughter, who was 4 at the time.  Instead of a black Magic Bubbles Puppy, we got a blond Tyler.  The dog breeder did not have any black labs, only black labradoodles.  We did not want a labradoodle, so we settled for the yellow lab.  And thankfully we managed to convince her to change his name

Tyler has been a great dog.  Not the brightest bulb in the socket, but not destructive like the famous Marley for which most yellow…

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Mouth Drop

I could see his mouth moving but did not hear anything after “I have fallen out of love with you and I don’t want to try.”  All I could hear was a sound like a vacuum.  The sound of my life being sucked from my body, up through the pit of my stomach, through my oxygen deprived lungs and out of my jaw dropped, open mouth.

As tears rolled down each cheek, I tried to breathe with an unbearable, crushing weight on my chest, the rushing sound of wind in my head and a vice grip, strangling tight around my heart.

Not Ready to Make Nice

I’m not ready to make nice
I’m not ready to back down
I’m still mad as hell and
I don’t have time to go round and round and round

~Dixie Chicks

It was the day of our anniversary.  I guess the day that would have been our anniversary.  Fifteen years.  Two children.  Two dogs.  Four houses.  Eight moves.  Four jobs.  Seventeen years together.

I was on my way out.  He had dropped our son off after having dinner together.  While he sat in the car in front of our building, my son struggled, with arms full, to get into the building.  I helped him with the doors.  Chatted briefly and turned to leave.

He was still there.  Ex-beloved.  I said hello and continued walking.  He called me back to his car.  Leaning across the arm rest, looking all handsome like he does.  I apologized and said I did not realize that he needed to talk.  “Well you were just going to walk by without talking to me,” he implored.  I indicated towards my car and said I was on my way out and again, that I did not realize he needed to talk.  He looked at me, shocked I think, that I did not want to talk to HIM.

“There is no reason why we can’t have a conversation,” he said.

“Actually, J, there are plenty of reasons.”  And I walked away.  Head held high.  Shaking like a tree in the wind on the inside.

That night to end an email that was already in the works regarding camp for the kids, I let him know that while he likely thought me rude earlier that evening, I did not want to talk to him.  And that I did not need to talk to him.  Especially on that day, what would have been our anniversary.  And that to add insult to injury, my gynaecologist had told me on that same day, that because of his indiscretion during our marriage, that I should be tested for all STD’s.

I have not talked to him since.  That was almost 3 months ago.  I have not seen him since.  Thankfully I tested negative for all of my tests.  And thank goodness for email.

On Thursday, my lawyer was told by his lawyer that they wanted to have a sit down meeting to hammer out the last details of our divorce agreement.  I thought I was going to throw up.

I spent the better part of 24 hours feeling pressured.  Feeling that I should sit down because that was what I thought I should do.  How would it look if I did not want to?  And then a friend said, “why would you do that to yourself?”  Another friend said, “you hired a lawyer all those months ago because you did not feel strong enough to stand up to him.  And while you are most definitely stronger now, it does not mean you need to sit down with him.”

I decided that I did not need or want to sit down with him in a conference room.  That I had nothing to gain by doing so.  And that the only reason why he wants to is so that he can manipulate me, take advantage of my feelings that he is sure still exist, and justify why he only wants should pay spousal support for 2 years.  My lawyer can deal with this.  That is why I hired her.

I am trying not to be bitter.  I am trying not to be sad.  I am trying not to be frustrated.  I am trying not to be angry.  I am trying to move on.

But I’m not ready to make nice.

Cathartic Rewrite

I read.  A lot.  I used to read books.  Novels.  Now I read websites.  Self-help pages.  Websites about divorce, communication and narcissism.

Ask any ex-wife and I would bet she would say that her ex-beloved is a narcissist.  I do.  And while sometimes I wonder if maybe I have created this monster in my head, born out of anger, sadness and bitterness; I truly think he is a narcissist.  I read somewhere the other day that although a man may not display narcissistic tendencies during a marriage, that the stress of a divorce often can push a man over the edge.  Where in the marriage he was simply self-centred (and maybe a bit controlling) he now becomes deceitful, manipulative and unfair.

It is a lot to handle.

I’ve read a lot about how to communicate with a narcissist.  I wish I could find the link to an article I read a few months ago.  It was brilliant.  The writer of the article was a woman who had divorced her narcissistic husband, but she found communication very challenging.  And then one time she took his email he had sent to her and re-wrote it.  She took all the hundreds of words he used to express himself and pared it down to less words, getting straight to the point and clarifying what was between the lines.

Yesterday I received an email that brought all the emotions flooding back.  He was pulling on my heart strings.  I was feeling badly.  I was feeling conflicted.  What was I going to write back?  Was I really being unreasonable?  And then I gave my head a shake.  I used her trick and re-wrote the email, highlighting what I thought he was really trying to say.  My interpretation is below in italics.  Although I was tempted to edit his original email, to do so would not convey the length and depth of his emails.  I have changed some key details for privacy of course.

It may be a bit tongue in cheek, but for sure it will make you smile.  Enjoy!

**some back ground info for context: ex-beloved left, did not get an apartment for himself, moved directly in with his girlfriend whom our children have still yet to meet, cancels vacation time and weekends with the kids (only sees them two weekends a month) and cannot (will not) reschedule but manages to take trips with her instead, all the while lying about pretty much every minute detail.

*****

Dear ex-wife,

Sorry for the super long email. I am waving the white flag. Your emails about the kids cut right to my soul and leave me in tatters. I am not sure if that is your intention, or you are just calling out your concerns as directly as you see fit, but either way – I need to let you know. I would like to please work on a less confrontational approach together. I hope you can consider. I would like to, especially when it comes to the children.

Here is a long email from me.  I hope that it wears you down and makes you feel overwhelmed.  Do you see my white flag?  I am trying to distract you with it.  You see that I am not making the kids a priority and have called me out on it.  I wonder if you know the truth about all my lies.  Please stop giving me a hard time.  I am only doing what makes me happy. 

OK, here we go – again apologies – while rereading it – it is really long.

OK, are you overwhelmed yet?  Emotional?

I have discussed my one night a week with the kids. For the time being, I suggested that once school starts, my one night per week become a dinner together and not an overnight. I miss them a lot between my weekends and want to see them, yet I know it is not ideal for them to stay at my brother’s place with me (not sleeping well, homework, next morning drop offs – these are their comments to me). They agreed and seem very happy with this suggestion. It will reduce any feelings of being overwhelmed with options, and for the time being, probably best for them. No problem with this night moving to another night.

The kids seem to agree that staying at my brother’s during the week does not work.  Now I can stay at home in my own bed with my honey.  Thanks for understanding.  If I tell you that I miss the kids a lot, I think you might believe me.  See my white flag?  Is it distracting you from my actions?

In the above, I say “for the time being” because I very much want them staying with me, but this is a ways off. Before they would consider staying with me, a first step is meeting my girlfriend, and I think they should do so. A while back, you had offered to support this. I think it is better for them knowing they would meet her with your knowledge and approval. Please let me know your thoughts. If you are not comfortable in supporting this, which I understand, then I will come up with a plan / suggestion and share with you prior, then propose to the kids. I think we just need the initial meeting to have happen – it will take a lot of the mystery out of things for them. I am open to your suggestions and thoughts, I know this is a big topic for all.

It is time for the kids to meet my girlfriend, whom I live with, as you know.  That way I will not have to divide my time between them all.  Not that I am putting the kids first.  Obviously.  It would be great if you could figure out the logistics of all of this.  I don’t want to.

I still plan on doing school drop offs, if they would like, and when I am not travelling. Our son has told me he is not doing early morning drop offs this year – so this would allow me to plan two mornings with later starts where I could take our daughter and then even walk with our son. Could you please confirm this is ok with you. I’ll put these in my agenda, and it would be great if you might ask them the ideal time on each of those days (typically) so to standardize it. If my schedule changes due to a work meeting, I’ll let you and them know in as advance as possible.

Waving the white flag still.  Do I look like a good dad yet?  You can be sure that I will cancel often but will let you know the morning of.

On some Tuesday nights I would like to come watch our son play hockey if I can make it. Can you pls share some details of his practices.

OK, so I offered.  Is that good enough?

Regarding my weekends this Fall;

Work is really complicated and hard right now. More than ever and this Fall is going to be insane. I have spoken about it to the kids to give them some context of what I manage. They were very receptive and supportive. They clearly understand that although I am not living with you, I am still supporting all of us and work is a reality that sometimes I can’t bend.

Work comes first.  Always has always will.  The kids know you are a lazy mother and should be out getting a job so that I can stop giving you money.

Sunday Sept 13, I fly to the big UK city that evening, so will have to drop kids off around 4pm.

Oops.  Have to bring the kids home early.  I know you won’t mind.  May as well bend over and lift your skirt too.  I am providing all your money don’t forget.

Friday, October 9th, I am coming back from the big North American City at 9pm that night. I would like to pick the kids up Saturday morning if that is OK with you.

I will have been away from my girlfriend for a whole week.  Have to get my rocks off first.  Again, thanks for understanding and recognizing where your money comes from.

For the weekend of Oct  24/25 – I am away that week for travel from the Wednesday onwards. Would you be open to switching a weekend with me, and I could do the weekend prior (the 17 / 18). If not – I will have to organize something but my hope is that we can work on an alternative together.

I will switch me weekends.  See, I want to be with the kids.  And because I pay for your life, you will organize the babysitter, right?  And have I distracted you enough with this email and the others that you have not figured out that this particular travel is actually a vacation week?  I hope you don’t see through me.  I deserve to take a vacation.  Again.  Without the kids.  What more do you all want from me?  And you know I have to lie about it right?  You get so mad at me that I have no choice but to lie.  It is all your fault.

For the weekend of the Nov 21 /22 I am away for that weekend and the whole following week dealing with production in Asia – back on the night of Friday the 27th. Would you please consider switching with me so I can see them on the 28/29 ?

Again $$ = you will do what I say.

For my birthday – I have to leave for the big UK city on Sunday Dec 6th – back on the 9th. So it is a non issue – we can share a meal another time.

Whatever.  I am going to spend my birthday in London.  Suckers.

For the Holidays – If I understand correctly you would like them with you the week of Christmas and I would take them the following week with me to the cottage. If so – I would pick them up on Monday morning the 28th please – because we might try to take my parents South, and the weekend of the 26/27 they are with you.

I have forgotten that our agreement says you have the kids for Christmas this year.  Convenient that I can spend it with my girlfriend.  We will probably take my parents to the Caribbean where my girlfriend’s parents have a place.  You know, the one where I have been twice in the past 5  months.  Hope you haven’t figured out that my trip in October is back to that place.  Yes, this will be instead of spending time with the kids.  Oh, and if our divorce is final by then we may as well get married at the same time.  No issue with the fact that our kids have yet to met their step-mother to be.  

March Break week looks good for now – but I will have to confirm later with you as I am unsure of my work travel right now.

March break?  Fuck you really are busting my balls.  I will say yes now but by the time all of my vacation time has been accounted for, there will be none left by then.  

I will always do my best to see them. They are on my mind all the time. Work is entering a new reality as the company prepares for a big transition over the next 3 years. I have been promoted to a higher up position and my boss will  take on new challenges. My package has yet to be offered to me, but I am hopeful it will be a bump in salary so that I can pay for the Kids School without depending on my parents, and pay off some of all the debt each month.

Good dad alert!  See me!  See me!  You know work is the priority.  It pays you, right?  Good.  I don’t want you to forget it.  I got promoted and of course I will get a raise.  But if I distract you enough, you won’t notice.  Oh, and not only am I supporting you, but so are my parents.  

ex-beloved

Gotta Get Up

You’ve gotta get up and try, and try, and try
Gotta get up and try, and try, and try
You gotta get up and try, and try, and try

~ Pink

I look back and wonder how I did it.  How did the heartbreak not crush my soul to pieces and leave me to rot somewhere between the sheets?  How did I manage to drive the car?  How did I do my job and no one seemed to notice that there was this monumental shift that had happened to me, inside of me?

My kids.  And my dog.  All three of them made it so that I had to get out of bed.  They were my forward drive.

We live in an apartment.  A curse and a blessing.  A curse when the temperature is so cold that when you breathe in, you feel the ice crystals form inside your nose.  A curse because I could not just let the dog out into the backyard to write his name in the snow.  A blessing when we receive feet of snow and I do not have to shovel it.  A blessing when the wind howls past our top floor windows and I am reminded that not only does heat rise, but it is also included in the rent.

On what seemed like the darkest and coldest of mornings, I would drag my broken, crushed heart out of bed.  I would make sure that the kids were up and getting ready for school.  I would trade my pink striped pyjama pants for the grey sweatpants that were getting so big around the waist I practically had to double knot the drawstring.  I would pull on my cream, cable knit hat, and dawn my matching downfilled parka.  With my scarf pulled up to my nose, the dog and I would venture into what I imagined the arctic tundra would feel like.

I would curse him.  Ex-beloved.  On those cold walks in the early morning.  It would be -30 degrees celsius and all I could think about was how he left.  He left me with everything.  I had to do it all on my own.  The kids.  The dog.  Even the shit.  He literally left me picking up the shit, all by myself.

Without my kids, without my dog, I do not know what would have happened to me.  Maybe I would have spent more days in bed?  Maybe less?  Without the kids, I would have had a “real job”, and that would have been my forward drive.  The force that got me out of bed.

But the kids were my job.  The kids are my job.  Everyday I get out of bed for them.  Not only to take care of them, but to enjoy them.  To laugh with them.  To cry with them.  To celebrate their successes.  To share in their frustrations.  To watch them continue to grow into the wonderful young adults I have spent years devoted to.

I would do it all again.  The heartbreak.  Because of them.  I would not risk changing one thing in my past to have avoided this heartbreak.  To do so would put their existence at risk.  So I would do it all again.  For them.

And for me.