It has now been one week since I flew down south to be with my sister. I awoke this morning feeling somewhat peaceful. The sharp and acute pain of my reality is settling in to an acceptance and specifics. Who gets to keep the car? Who will keep our cat? Should I go back to work or take short term disability leave?
My days have been following a pattern: rise from slumber, wash up, put away bed, go for a three hour rambling walk, come home, eat lunch, do things on the computer, shower, get in bed, talk with my sister and watch TV until I eventually doze off.
The days seem to march on though I am unsure how. Time moves quickly and slowly all at once. In one moment, I’m confused about what to do with my time. In the next moment, I’m worried about how I’m going to get everything done that needs to get done as the weight of anxiety fastens itself to my chest, clingy and desperate.
“Pay attention to me!” It shouts. I don’t want to. I want to make lists and master the divorce process. I want to know everything there is to know about what is going to be happening to me in this next phase of my life. But, this is foolishness. The only certainty in this world is the uncertain. The only certainty in this world is change. Every second of every day, our world is ever-changing. Any attempt to distract myself away from the pain of this realization feels wrong. It layers anxiety onto my despair.
So, I’m trying to sit still, to provide myself the space to grieve, to provide myself the comfort of a friend who is unafraid of my sorrow. I whisper back to the voice in my head, “I’m here. I will sit with you in your grief. I will hold your hand. I will comfort you and when I feel I cannot, I will ask for help.”
Q found a mediator last night. I did a bit of research and agreed with his selection. So, the process begins. I have such conflicting emotions. I want it to move quickly, to rip the bandaid off, to get on with my life, to get through the practical necessities of divorce and to move into my reawakening as a single woman. At the same time, it all feels too quick. It feels like a knife entering my chest. Nothing feels right or secure. Nothing makes sense.
I keep contemplating what I would do if Q all of a sudden decided he doesn’t want a divorce, that he wants to work on things. Would I take him back? I honestly do not know if I would be able to love him again. A part of me died when I accepted his lack of commitment to our marriage. If he gets his self-worth through our marriage and doesn’t see this, how can he make the changes necessary for us to have a healthy relationship? How have I contributed to an unhealthy relationship?
You don’t end a marriage because you find your sex life to be unfulfilling. It doesn’t make sense. He doesn’t know why he wants a divorce, so how can I know? How could I trust him again? Do I really want to hang around, waiting with no guarantee while he figures it out? His basic core state has a tendency for flightiness, for lack of fully committing himself to a task when the going gets hard. I just never thought, foolishly never thought, that this would apply to my marriage.