More...last year.....etc etc....

The Great Divide
Current mood: exhausted
Category: Goals, Plans, Hopes

I have this mental picture of myself, standing on dry, cracked ground with one leg on each side of a fast-splitting earthquake type break in the ground. I'm starting to go down fast, and I need to make a decision about which side to choose. Neither side is optimal—after all, this is an earthquake right? The indecision hurts, and it's dangerous. Both sides scare me, because I don't know what they will be like once I get there, and I desperately fear making the wrong choice and regretting my decision. It would be next to impossible to switch sides once I've decided, because by then, the gap between each side will be so large that there would be no way I'd have the strength and energy to figure out a way to get across to the other side.

Every time I find resolve and confidence in this divorce, something shakes it. I doubt myself. Someone will give me advice that makes me re-think my choice on which side to jump to. Or, I'll let my imagination run wild, thinking only the worst about what lies ahead. And then I am quickly reminded why the side I've chosen to try is a good side. You know, things like finding out my ex spouse has been on match.com for several months and met someone with whom he has developed a rather intimate relationship—little things like that.

Truth is, I'm tired. I. Am. So. Damn. Tired. The projects that need to be finished around here—endless. The paperwork that my lawyer needs me to complete to get this finalized—daunting. The bills that need to be paid—piled high. The money to pay them—diminishing quickly. Work--difficult. I have been sick for almost two weeks straight with different illnesses. The only times I have been constantly sick like this was my senior year in college, taking 19 hours my last semester and preparing for finals so I could graduate, and also when experiencing the gut-wrenching stress, guilt, and fear of untangling myself from a decade-long abusive relationship. I am just worn down and my body is screaming at me to slow down. Tonight, while brushing my teeth, I noticed that the circles under my eyes are darker than usual, and a bit puffy too. My skin doesn't look right. My face looks….well…sad. My home, usually neat and organized, remains in a constant state of disarray. I have been on time to most everything my entire life—I am a huge advocate of punctuality--but recently, I'm late to everything. I have almost run out of gas twice in the last two weeks. I could stay home from work for two days and do laundry straight through and have a slight chance at finishing it.

This….the current state of my life…is so hard that it, quite literally, hurts. To add insult to injury, a guy in a 2001 (big) Chevy Suburban plowed into me yesterday from behind, totaling his car and completely destroying the back of my SUV. Fortunately, no one was hurt and it was totally his fault. Still, I have yet another thing to add to my to-do list—file the claim, get the car fixed, get a rental car, and deal with everything else that goes along with having a wreck.

I was talking to my ex husband today about the schedule for the upcoming week, and as I am doing my usual three things at once, all the while blowing my nose and coughing, he looks at me and says, "Would you like to go upstairs and take a nap so you can get some rest? I'll watch the kids."

The rational, cautious part of me wanted to say no. If I take his help, he'll see it as a sign of reconciliation…and weakness. But I was tired. Not just tired, but mentally and physically exhausted. Add to that running a fever and some residual pain from the wreck, and the thought of taking a nap in the secluded, locked guest room sounded like sheer bliss. I wanted to cry because I felt like I was admitting defeat in front of the enemy, but I also knew that if I was going to get better, I had to rest. So I accepted his offer. He didn't brag or hold it over my head. He immediately told the girls that mommy is sick so they were going to play downstairs for the afternoon and told them to not go upstairs and bother me. All the way up the stairs, I second-guessed my decision but apparently not enough to keep me awake. I crawl into bed and instantly fall asleep—for almost three straight hours. I came downstairs to find the dishwasher going, laundry going, towels being folded, and kids bathed. I looked at him, in shock, wondering what to say. All he said was, "I could tell you needed to rest and I know things have been tough on you lately." He told the kids good-bye and was off. It was almost surreal.

I'm smart enough to know that one good deed does not a new and improved husband make, and it didn't make my heart swell with love, but I was thankful. And then I realized that even in the worst marriages, having two people to navigate the life of a busy family is easier than one person doing all the work. That has been proven over and over to me during the past few months, although I am managing fairly well. Being a single parent is tough. Being a sick single parent is damn near impossible.

I started to think of how "easy" – and I use the word lightly – it would be to go back. All of the fears about moving, dating, being a single mom, money, and everything else that goes along with divorce would be settled. I could pick up where I left off—redecorating, remodeling, planning vacations, and being the smiling suburban mom and wife. At the end of the day, when all of those projects are put to rest, I know I wouldn't be happy in my marriage on an emotionally intimate level—this too has been proven—but it would be easy to distract myself from that. I could do it again, but if that was enough then I wouldn't be here in the first place. Lately, jumping over to this side of the cracking ground doesn't look so bad. Dressing up and going out to a nice dinner most weekends, hosting dinner parties with friends, spending money on wants rather than needs, planning a beach vacation, getting bids on remodeling the pool, and preparing for a Christmas without divorce sounds really, really nice right about now compared to mediation, visitation schedules, child support, confused kids, moving, and adjusting to a new budget.

And then there's the other side I've been trying to get to for years—the side where my authentic self is just waiting for the shell that I've become to join her. The place where I don't have to pretend, where I have a shot at finding someone to love who "gets" love and who "gets" me. A place where I can raise my daughters in a manner where material things aren't worshipped, but God is. A place where I don't have to loan out my mind, body, and soul for someone else's pleasure. A place where what I think and say matters and counts. A place where I can freely breathe, think, cry, love, play, and just be. But also a place where I'm lonely. Scared. Remorseful. Guilty.

I don't like either of my choices. Both sides, quite frankly, suck. This is like every decision in life—weighing the pros and cons. What can I live with? What can't I live with? At the end of this awful, beautiful life, which side will I be most proud to have taken? And on that note, which side allows me to really live my life…not just life a life so that when I take my last breath I know I didn't waste it? Which is worse? Guilt about selfishness or selling out to keep the peace (and the china?)

So there you have it. Between the tears, the Nyquil, the surrender to an afternoon nap, caring for a sick child (again), shuttling kids to school, dance, theatre, and choir, exchanging insurance information with a complete stranger in front of the Galleria, dealing with an ex spouse who doesn't want to be an ex spouse, and well….all the rest of it, I find myself straddling the great divide, barely able to keep my balance. I have to choose, else I'll fall. And I need to choose quickly because the pain of staying in one place only entertaining the thought of each side is becoming to much for me and everyone else to bear. I keep hoping that someone will just take my hand and pull me one way or the other so my decision doesn't have to be so hard, but no one can do that. It wouldn't be right. It's a move I have to make on my own. Years of disappearing into who I'm with, accepting being that person's "honorable mention," and essentially feeling invisible and unimportant in a relationship has to stop, but the trick is it starts with me. It starts with me choosing a side, being confident in that leap, and never….ever….looking back again