A new journey

How does one discover who they are? What makes up a person? How do you decide what kind of person you want to be? I am a mother, a sister, a cousin, a friend, a (soon to be) ex-wife, an athlete, a co-worker. But being a mother doesn't define me anymore than being a co-worker. What makes me uniquely myself? I don’t know these answers and in the last 10 years I have gotten miles further away than when I was 20. So how do I discover the answers? I keep saying that I have lost my identity, that I don’t know who I am anymore. Some of that has been my situation but it’s happened because I let it happen. What makes me happy? There are a million little things that bring me pleasure, the joy of seeing my children blissfully happy playing and laughing tops the list, but that’s not the kind of happy I’m talking about. What makes me happy with myself? What makes me the person I am or want to be? How do I become a person whom I respect? How do I become a person I like? Who am I? I don’t know. I don’t know where to start. 

This process of self-discovery is scary and exciting. I relish the opportunity to find out who I am and who I can be and what I can achieve. But I am also fearful because I don’t know where the starting line is. I do not have directions. I like direction. I can deal with bumps in the road and obstacles thrown in my path, but first I need to be on the path. I want to have a plan. Plans change and that’s ok but I want a plan to start with. So without a plan, with no direction, I feel lost and afraid.

Hindsight has let me see that I lose myself in relationships. I am so desperate for acceptance that I mold myself into what I think other people want so I can gain their acceptance. Except then I’m not myself and on an unconscious level I know it and the other person knows it and it infects the relationship. But to stop that cycle I have to first learn who I am. I need that so I can stay true to myself. That has to be my focus. It's time to become unapologetically (<--that's a word no matter what spell check says) myself. 

Who Am I? This is my journey, starting now…

Lily

It's time

I've been wanting to say something for a while. I even have this really gut-wrenching unpublished post written in which I go on and on about how hard of a decision this has been and how I'm constantly doubting my decision because I don't want to tear our family apart. But recent events, better left unsaid here, have forced me to change my outlook on the situation. All doubt has vanished. I am getting divorced.

It still sucks, very very much sucks, but I believe in signs, little ways for God, or the universe, or whatever deity you believe in, to show you that you are making the right decision. I have made the right decision. It is time to move forward. It is not going to be easy. I'm scared out of my mind for what lies ahead. But - it is right. We are toxic for each other. We both deserve better. I cannot forget the past and so I will learn from it. 

The most important thing is that we work together - which will be hard since it's something we weren't able to do as husband and wife, but we have to - to ensure that the kids have the best life possible. We have to put aside our hurt, our resentment, our anger, grief, sorrow, pain, frustration, all of it needs to be put aside so that we can ensure our kids are happy and healthy and well cared for. I want our kids to see that sometimes things don't work out the way you expect, but you make the best of the situation and you move forward, always learning from the past so that you can make better decisions in the future. 

We failed. As husband and wife we failed each other. But it's an opportunity to show our kids that failure is not the end. It's a chance to reset, to start a different path, a brighter path and this time with road signs(!), with experience guiding you in a better direction and allowing you to navigate smarter. 

As much as I wish we could remain a family, I know this is right. We are getting divorced.

Lily

If this were a book this chapter would be over by now

We are trying. It is hard (very hard) but we are trying. In our effort to do all that we can we are headed for a mini vacay to the Adirondacks. Just the two of us. We haven’t done that since our honeymoon. We’ll be staying at a lakeside hotel complete with a private balcony and canoes to rent. I pray to the rain gods that they go easy Sunday - Tuesday and let us get out and do. Getting out and doing helps. It gives us shared experiences to bond over. We need to bond. Maybe I’ll bring Monopoly. Doesn’t everyone bond over monopoly?

We didn’t have a good night last night. I’m still having such a hard time letting go of the bitterness and resentment. It doesn’t help that I don’t understand his feelings. He tries to share with me and I lash out at him for feeling the way that he does. I’m an awesome wife. Why is it that I can be so kind-hearted and understanding to a stranger but I’m unable to accept that my husband feels differently from me? I think we both want each other to be a different person then we are. How unfair is that? How does one get around that and make a marriage work despite never being able to change who we are. Should we even try to get around that? Leaving sounds so much easier. But then, what about this life we’ve built around us? I don’t want to lose that. We have a beautiful family, we have a work in progress beautiful house, should I throw that all away because I don’t want to put in the work? No, I don’t think so either. But how much longer can we go on like this? I don’t want to act like I am, yet I find that I can’t change it. Not yet anyway. I keep telling him that it seems like I’m not ready yet. Not ready to let go of the anger, bitterness, and resentment. But what will make me ready? I fear that by taking my sweet ass time I’m doing more damage than can be overcome. I don’t want to do that! So why am I? (Seriously, can someone answer that because I have no idea?)

Things had been getting better. But I guess they weren’t really. I would really like someone to tell me exactly how long this is going to take. I’d like it to be better right this second but I’d settle for just knowing how long it’s going to take. Is that so unreasonable?

Husband – if you are reading this, please know that I do love you and you’re doing all the right things. I’m proud of you for trying so hard to right all the wrongs. Please be patient with me. Please don’t give up on me. It took 8 years to get to this point and I hope like hell it won’t take 8 years to get out of it but I do need longer than just a few months. Just don’t give up on me, ok? You’re doing it right.

Lily

Friday Flashback - Wall Building

Today’s flashback is a hindsight, a picture drawn with words if you will, rather than a real photo…sorry for the downer.

My Papa died in March 2000, my sister died April 5, 2000, I graduated from high school in May 2000, we moved to a different state in August 2000, 2 weeks after that I started college, a few months after that I broke up with my high school boyfriend and started “dating” someone else that was serving in the Air Force (he was an ex-boyfriend that I reconnected with). He came home from deployment shortly after we reconnected and I promptly fell in love with him and he promptly dumped me. I was so hurt, so pissed off, so utterly broken from all the change and stress that defined my life in that year.

I didn’t realize it at the time but looking back, that is when I started building walls. My childhood was relatively carefree and happy. I never dealt with any major issues (beyond which activity to play with my friends that day) so I didn’t know how to deal with all the stress and pain I found myself in. I’m a happy-go-lucky type of person, and I bet if you ask anyone who knew me then, they’d be shocked to hear I was having such a hard time. I smiled and sucked it up and went about my business. I even fooled myself. It’s only looking back now that I realize how traumatic that time really was. To make it through the day I ignored my problems. I didn’t analyze anything or give much attention to my feelings. And I started building walls. These walls kept me safe. How can anyone hurt you if you don’t let them close? I learned to keep them just far enough away that they think I’m letting them in but really there is a big, strong wall right in the middle. I was safe behind my walls. The best part, no one knew they were there…and I ignored the fact that they were. They just became part of me.

This really worked great for me. That is until I met my husband. We fell in love very quickly (we were engaged after 6 months and got married about 9 months after that). Yet, I still had my walls. I knew I wasn’t giving my husband the love he needed or deserved. I knew it but I had forgotten about my walls (they were so deeply ingrained that I didn’t see them as separate from me) so neither of us could see what the problem was. I don’t want to say I regret marrying him, because I don’t. He really is a wonderful person and a great father to our children. But my walls were causing hell. And then he got stuck in a job that sucked the rest of the life out of him and he changed. He became miserable and all the little negative parts of his personality became amplified. I’ll sum it up by saying our marriage sucked.

We almost divorced a couple of times but neither of us really wanted to. I knew it was mostly his job that was making him miserable but all that misery just reinforced my walls. I would not let him hurt me. I would not let him bring me down. He needed love and affection and would push hard for that, all the while being miserable in every other way. I worked under the premise that he can go on and be miserable but I am going to keep smiling and I’ll just do whatever I want to do with little regard to him. That worked splendidly for about zero seconds. Yet, we continued on like that for that entire time. It was a vicious cycle of him pushing for what he needed and me running as fast as I could in the other direction with my walls safely between us.

In October of last year he FINALLY got a new job. The hours weren’t great and the pay sucked but he was out of that hell hole that was his previous job! Things started to look up. Especially when he was offered an even better job a few months later, with better pay and MUCH better hours. Things were good.

And then they were not good. I will not go into detail here but I’ll just say that even my walls weren’t protecting me anymore. It was all just too much. I became miserable. I found myself driving home slowly because I didn’t want to be there. I stopped smiling. I started being mean because I didn’t care to make an effort not to be. I fell out of love.

With my walls no longer being effective and my realization that they really weren’t helping me anyway I decided I couldn’t pretend anymore. I couldn’t go on as we were, just pretending everything was ok. Everything was not ok. But now what? How do I cope when every coping mechanism I’ve ever used has failed me? I didn’t know what to do, what to think, how to act. Then the anxiety attacks started. I didn’t know what it was at first but after a couple of times I realized that’s what was happening. At that point I knew we hit bottom.

During my…breakdown (I guess you would call it that, although that sounds awfully dramatic) my husband had his own transformation. From what he’s tells me, he realized how good he has really had it, realized how miserable and horrible he was to us all and he is now looking at things in a whole new way. He’s happy. Don’t get me wrong, he is under no illusion that everything is ok, but he’s going forward with a positive attitude.

That brings me to my next problem. I don’t know how to handle this new, excited, optimistic person. At first I figured it was his way of trying to cheer me up and get me out of my funk. I appreciated his efforts but I just kept waiting for the old husband to come back so it wasn’t having too much effect on me. Then yesterday he responded to a chain of emails between me and my cousins (planning our upcoming trip to their house) and his response was cheery, upbeat, and completely frightening for me. That’s when I realized, not only do I have to get over the hurt and all of our past issues, but I also have to figure out who this new guy is. I feel myself trying to build more walls to guard myself against this unknown man trying to get me to love him. While part of me is enjoying this new guy, with his upbeat attitude, great suggestions for fun things to do on the weekends, helping around the house, the other part is reeling from the absolute change of direction. Who is this man and what has he done with my husband?? I have the urge to poke him with a stick (think the large poking device that the “Friends” gang fashioned so that they could see if Ugly Naked Guy was really dead or not) to see if he’s real or not. I just do not know how to cope.

The good thing is I’m facing the issues now. Really facing them. I don’t know where it will lead or how bumpy the road will be but that is where I am coming from and this is where I am now. Part of me can’t wait to see how it turns out, the other part…scared to death!

Lily

Just a few minutes

I love nighttime. Nighttime means sleep. I enjoy sleep. (I know, I’m really unique.) I can’t wait to get to sleep. Sitting at my desk all day I daydream about snuggling under my covers and just drifting off to blissful sleep. I crave it. What I don’t crave is the chaos involved in getting there. Chaos is even too nice a word. What’s more hectic than chaos? Whatever it is describes my house at bedtime.

Last night I had a revelation. The word-more-hectic-than-chaos is all my fault. (Isn’t everything the mother’s fault?) Because I’m so anxious to get in my bed, I get snappy at the kids when they don’t move fast enough (with Bud that’s EVERYTHING he does. He’s much like the Coyote when he runs off a cliff. His legs are still moving a mile a minute but he doesn’t actually GO anywhere.) I get all riled up and it puts everyone in a bad mood. Instead of taking the time to help the kids get their PJ’s on I yell at them when they don’t do it fast enough for my liking. (They are almost 6 and almost 3, why can’t they be responsible enough to get themselves ready for bed yet, is that so unreasonable?) (That was sarcasm by the way.) I try to brush my teeth while Bud brushes his. I yell at him for getting toothpaste all over. I get mad because Babe won’t sit still for me to brush hers. Then I get on edge when they come out of their rooms a bazillion times to ask a question/get a drink/make us go into the bathroom with them because they are afraid to go by themselves. Now, those stalling tactics I’m sure are the same in every house. The part that is my fault is my reaction. I start by getting on edge. Then it morphs into frustration. Then it becomes anger. Then it’s an explosion! GO THE F*CK TO SLEEP. (Ok, so I don’t actually curse at my kids but I can’t be held responsible for what I think in my head).

Last night I was able to identify the real issue. I think I was scrambling to get to bed (besides the sleep part) because I needed the alone time. I need the quiet and the me-time. So I tried something different. I helped the kids get their PJ’s on. I helped Bud get the toothpaste on his brush. I talked with Babe while I was brushing her teeth so I could keep her attention. I realize none of these things are new to the parenting realm. I realize I’m not going to get a book deal based on my amazing revelations in to the way kids work. But it’s so easy to forget how to manipulate get the best behavior out of your kids when you are so focused on something else, on yourself. I’m not saying the night was perfect. Babe still did her nightly cruise around the top floor of our house while the rest of tried to sleep, she still kicked us in the face and wedged her way in between me and my husband. The difference was I lowered my expectations for bedtime. I slowed it down and focused on them. Once they were tucked in their beds I got my alone time in the bathroom brushing my teeth, putting on my pajamas. I had a few minutes of quiet all to myself. Just a few minutes. It was enough. I came to bed smiling rather than stomping. I still longed for sleep but I was able to fall asleep without a scowl on my face. Without the weight of feeling like a bad mother. I felt better.

This was only one night. The true measure will be next week, next month. Can I keep sight of my behavior and check myself when I find the frustration coming? I hope so. Now I’m looking forward to those few minutes of quiet. Just a few minutes.

Lily