Life after separation

Before we separated, I can remember feeling very alone and wishing I could live alone. It was unbearable to live under the same roof with someone and yet be so alone. Now I have my own four walls. It is an incredible sense of freedom that came along with the new roof over my head.

It’s been barely three months, and still feels quite new. Some days I wonder where we will both be one year from now. What developments and changes will we go through? Will he find someone new? Will I? How will each of us feel about it? Interesting questions, but I won’t know the answers until it happens.

Recently I felt a strong need to sit down and talk it all out with him — our story, disappointments, mistakes, etc. Every time I suggest we get together, he says he is busy. Now I realize I still pursue this “happily ever after” dream. Why should we be able to sit and talk now — something we were never able to do? I need to let go and take it as it comes.

He is almost painfully proper and correct, which I do appreciate, but it saddens me. There are different phases one passes through during the course of a separation: disappointment, sadness, anger, regret — not necessarily in that order. Perhaps after the initial shock that I finally left, some anger is coming up.

It frightens me at times, as I wonder how dependable he will be. Will he remain so cooperative and generous? Or will he decide he’s had enough and I can totally fend for myself. That I can’t know today either.

On the brighter side, we both have more time to think. From our last conversation, I realize he has given more thought to the children and their respective situations. He is now willing to let our son choose where he wants to be. Originally, he said he should be with me, as he didn’t want the extra work (cooking, etc.). I’m glad he changed his mind. It is important for a child to be able to be where he wants to be, and know that both parents love him and both are willing to take care of him. That is a positive development in my eyes.

A couple of weeks ago a friend mentioned the emotional turmoil that comes with separation. I looked at her like she didn’t understand, and replied that this was such a long time coming, there is no great emotion left. Surprise! I’m not as cool and above it all as I wanted to believe.

So I’m back to trusting in the universe. This was an important step to take. It’s new ground for me, and there continue to be challenges on a daily basis — both large and small. I cope one day at a time, dealing with things as they come along.

Ending such a destructive relationship is kind of like getting over an eating disorder. A massive source of stress is removed, but that doesn’t mean it’s 100% easy sailing the rest of the way. No, it means that I am more balanced, grounded, can establish a healthy basis from which to function and cope, but there are still ups and downs, good days and bad, high energy and low. That’s just life.

Not quite sure

Things are moving along. As they fall into place emotionally, the physical manifestation will follow. Strangely enough, now that we are preparing for a time out, my husband and I are talking more than we used to. The pressure is off, so I feel a bit more relaxed.

My 16-year-old daughter is thrilled about the prospect of my getting an apartment, and since I first mentioned it, she has opened up. It’s as if she had taken on the depression and resignation that she saw in me, and carried it as her own burden. Now she’s brightened up — is checking newspaper ads for apartments, and has various ideas about furnishings.

Last night I spoke with my son. He is 14. It came as a shock to him, and he assured me he would not leave the house and move to an apartment. My first reaction was to think: “Okay, maybe I should forget about it. I could not bear living without him.” Then I thought to myself: “It was a surprise for him. Give him time to digest it.” After all, my daughter was also quiet when I told her. I assured him that he need not worry. Everyone will be taken care of, and for now it is a time out. It is not a divorce. Time will tell, which direction we go. At this point, there is no pressing need to make it legal.

It is frightening to make changes, but as I plod along, one thing becomes clear: The fear ahead of time is much worse than actually taking the steps. There are moments when I laugh at myself and wonder what I was so afraid of! Sure, it is unfamiliar and I’m not always sure what I’m doing, but I feel my way along — gingerly at times — and it’s okay.

There are still moments of doubt. Knowing that recovered bulimics/anorexics tend to go for an authority person as a partner, and considering that whole interaction, I sometimes wonder if it isn’t/wasn’t all in my head. (But, no, I don’t blame myself! It takes two!) As I give my partner less power over me, things seem to improve. My own inner strength is revealed, and it surprises me at times. There are even moments when I think: “Oh, it could all work out!” But at this point, I am being cautious about any such declaration. Too many years were spent hoping — 23 to be exact. During that time, I hoped that things would work out magically. They didn’t.

Things generally don’t work out magically if I don’t take action. Sure, there are exceptions, but that’s not the rule. Little steps, figuring things out as they happen. One thing is clear for sure: It’s not just my partner. I slipped into the little girl role and stayed there for quite some time. I didn’t like it, but never had the power or courage to change. I complained to my friends, I wrote about it in my journal, but I was too scared to actually do anything about it. Whenever I would bring something up in discussion, I would back down again the second I was finished saying it. Or the second after my partner answered.

I’m learning to talk back. I don’t think I’ll be finished with this relationship until I’ve gotten to be really good at it. And then, who knows what will happen? I’m optimistic!

Crisis anyone?

In a sense, it has been the calm before the storm. I have been collecting my energy, assessing my resources, and now am in the midst of a big change. It is fairly easy to go along from day to day as long as things stay the same. In the past, the strategy was: cope and complain.

After a season of soul-searching and reflection, the time has come. This weekend I officially start the search for my own apartment. The timing couldn’t be worse. Finances on a global level are somewhat precarious, and it trickles all the way down to me. But then, timing has never been one of my strengths. Why start now?

Just kidding! Now is the time, thus the timing is right — regardless of appearances. During the past few days, I have consulted the Mayan Calendar to know if the timing is propitious. It is. The themes have been about birth through fire, letting go of all that doesn’t belong to me. I’ve been encouraged to open my heart like a flower to the sun and let it help me grow.

With a focus on unconditional love, it is a time for illumination, and to join the dance of light. While reading “The Temple of the Subway Goddess” I often smile and think: Perfect timing! This is just the novel I needed! I’m reading it slowly, enjoying the sound of the words, the style of writing, the energy, and the thoughts and feelings that it evokes within me. Literature has always been a saving grace to my existence.

It was a long, agonizing talk, but I remained calm, shed few tears, and focussed on staying grounded and firm. It worked. I won’t go into details, but want to share this to encourage others, which is why I’ll tell you how I am now. Inside everything is churning. I am excited, impatient, and a little scared, but I know this is the path I am destined to take.

I must be patient, as even major change can only occur in steps — if it is to be done well, and that is my goal. There is a certain sense of responsibility that we all get through this as well as we possibly can — my children, my husband and myself.

Yesterday I stood in the kitchen nearly in tears. I felt so alone. All of my friends are so far away, I told myself. Who can I talk to? Then I decided to reach out here — locally. I called one friend. She didn’t answer. I called another and asked what she was doing at the moment. She said the friend I’d just called was on her way to pick her up and they were going to go out for a cup of coffee, because she was climbing the walls. I laughed and asked if I could join them to commiserate. It was wonderful! I’m not ready to talk about all of this just yet, but it did good to go out, be with friends, and see how they are doing. Another friend joined us at the café and it was a pleasant time-out from daily stuff, worries and fear.

The one friend is in the process of separating from her husband as well, so she does know about my situation. That is a comfort, that we can share that. We’ve been confiding in each other over the past few months, and helping each other take the necessary steps — as well as sharing information, giving feedback and encouragement.

A blog keeps coming to mind that someone wrote a while ago about birth through fire. Fire can destroy a forest, but afterwards life returns and new things grow, now that they have space. That comforts me. It is not easy, but I keep telling myself I have to stand it. This increased tension will eventually go away, and afterwards leave me in a better state than I’ve been. Perhaps in a better state than I’ve ever been!

So at the moment, support is very important. And trust in my intuition and what my heart tells me. I pray, meditate and do my best to take care of myself — emotionally and physically. This added stress requires that I get enough rest, feed myself well, and do all that I can to mobilize my energy and stay in good shape.

It could be tempting to overeat or drink too much alcohol, but that would jeopardize my goal. Since that goal is clear, I want nothing to stand in the way or screw things up. No more excuses. It was tempting in the past to stay in this situation. Materially, I had it made. However, that isn’t enough and I am convinced that if I maintain this situation out of fear of the unknown, it will destroy me.

Thus, I throw care to the wind, breathe deeply, and trust in the universe. It’s one thing to expound upon it, and quite another to live by it. It has taken a long time, but I am ready. The necessary tools and strength are there. There’s no turning back!