ready to go

08.26.09
I am ready to move out. I am tired of seeing him every day, even if our late night talks have been helpful. We have spoken at length about our marriage, agreeing on some parts where it went wrong, disagreeing on others. I have wondered how good it is for me to continue to talk to him, but I intend to learn all I can, so that I can take these experiences and lessons learned into my next relationships, to make them better, to make some good come out of this hell.

I want my freedom. I don't want my heart to sink every time he walks in the door, or tears to fall when I see him lock himself into his room at night, when it still feels like he should be coming to bed with me. Although at a closer look, I don't want him in bed with me. He is unattractive to me, and the thought of even kissing him makes me sick.

I want to get out, and discover who I am, and learn to like me, really like me, not just believe I am whoever he tells me I am.

On a happier note, I got a job. My manager from my previous job called and asked if I needed a job, as he needed a few good people in his store. Several grueling interviews later, I have a job! One step closer to freedom.

about it not being all my fault...

08.24.09
I have thought continually about the word "fault". I don't like to blame others for anything that happens in my life. It took two days before I could bring myself to write this. But I think it is an important part of my marriage, what we did wrong. It allows me to recognize my strengths and weaknesses. It allows me to decide what went wrong and how I can learn from it and avoid it in the future.

That being said, it wasn't all my fault. He had his weaknesses as well. From the very beginning of our marriage, I would approach him with a concern and try to work with him on a solution. the problem was, his answer would always be, "I don't know how to fix it, so I guess there is nothing we can do." And not another word would be hard from him. I began to get very frustrated, very quickly. I had never known a person who outright refused to work out a problem. He would even acknowledge it as a problem, then clam up. Shrug his shoulders, and say "oh well."

Because of this our relationship was never able to grow as we did. If one of our values or needs changed, it got the shrug and was pushed into the ignore pile. I would plead, cry, prod and beg to no avail. I would try to solve the problems on my own, with the false idea that if I gave enough, it would make up for his lack of giving. I changed myself for him. He didn't ask for it, he didn't even want it. But it was the only response I could figure that gave us any chance of surviving.
I believe this is one of the main reasons our marriage was so unhappy. He felt he couldn't be who he was, because he had changed. Because he had changed, that meant our marriage had to change, and he wasn't willing to put in the effort to let it change. As I changed, as I became in control of myself and happy and stable, our marriage couldn't change with that either. We were stuck in the same marriage we had been in when were 20 years old, but we were now full-blown adults.

He couldn't accept that I had changed, he refused to admit it until now, after the marriage was over. He still hasn't accepted that he has changed, because that means a lifestyle change for him. And I wonder, was all this really easier?

learning to deal

08.20.09
My journal entry today was a single line that read, "I stand strong against the wind, it's the only thing I can do."

I'm learning to take life one day at a time. Now that the big things are handled, the divorce details, where I will live, and I am pretty sure I will have a job before I move.

I ate a full meal yesterday. And I kept it down. I ate lunch today, and it stayed down as well. I'm improving. I am learning to calm myself down when life begins to feel too much. Sunlight is very helpful. I have a large backyard, though it is full with my garden that has unfortunately died. I have begun going into the back yard and sitting in my camping chair and turning my face to the sky. I remind myself that this sun will be the same, whether I live here, or somewhere else, or if I am alone or with somebody I love. It's small, but it's a constant I can count on. I soak up the vitamins and breath deeply. It calms me. And my face is getting tan.

I've learned other little things to do when life closes in. Reading is the best escape ever. I am not one to run away from my problems, but nothing is hurt by letting my body relax and live through the eyes of a great character in a novel.

I am also finding a therapist. I feel like I am coming out of this marriage with great insecurities, and I do not want them to hurt me if I ever get into another relationship. I intend to remarry, and when I do I do not want to screw it up.

about it not all being his fault...

08.19.09
It really isn't. I've done my share of destructive things as well. I am bi-polar. While it is well controlled (without medication) now, it wasn't when I first got married. I was diagnosed about 6 months after our wedding. As he began to change , (he stopped wanting to go out, or do those things we did before we were married) I couldn't handle my emotions. I was upset or crying all the time. I would get angry over stupid things, like if he hadn't taken out the trash. The worst part was that I couldn't figure out the root of my upset mood. it lasted for months. I now realize that my anger was caused by my husband not being the man I married. Not an excuse, but I finally did figure it out. Instead of questioning why he was different, I was just upset. He never knew when he would come home to find me angry, sulking, or crying.

Once I was diagnosed things got better for a considerable amount of time. I went on medication. While the meds made me sick, my mood was balanced and we were able to go back to being a married couple, instead of opposition in a war. i encountered two problems however. The first is that he made it clear that he did not believe in psychological illnesses, he thought I was just being lazy. He also made it clear that he thought I should not be on medication. The other problem was how sick the meds made me. I was sleepy all the time, and nearly always sick to my stomach. Eventually I weaned myself off of the medication.

Life was a series of ups and downs for a couple of years. I did the best I could to control myself, but I had no tools or anybody to help me. I didn't know what I was doing, and didn't do a very good job.

I had a breaking point about three years into our marriage. I hated feeling the way I did, I hated being upset all the time, I hated the deep debilitating depressions that I would struggle through. He hated them too, and began to resent me. I knew I had to do something. I spoke with a psychiatrist and began a new regimen of medication. I chose to do this because I needed a clear, un manic/depressive mind to make the next changes and decisions. I began seeing a psychologist who specialized in bi-polar patients. My goal was to ultimately learn how to control myself without medication. I worked hard. I logged how I felt every day, and the choices I made. I logged what made me angry, sad, upset, happy. My dosages were slowly lowered until I was no longer taking anything.

I kept my log. I learned to tell when I was heading toward a depressive state. I learned to control my emotions, until I no longer even reacted to those rash feelings. Eventually, I didn't have them anymore. the problem was, we were now four years into our marriage. Despite my continual efforts from day one of my marriage to make things work, he could never see past my faults to remember the real me. He never got over it. He hated and resented me.

I still have to make a conscious effort to be sure I stay emotionally healthy, and I have things I do on a regular basis to help me. However, I rarely show any symptoms due to my rational mind and strong willpower.

what happened to my marriage?

08.18.09
As I look back on my marriage, the question keeps popping up, "what happened?" Yes, he left me. He said it was because he felt like he couldn't be himself with me, that he wanted to be free to life the life he missed while married to me. He wanted to party, and be with other women. He wanted his freedom.

Everybody is quick to blame this all on him, but that is not the case. It takes two to make a good marriage, and two to bring it down. In the summer of 2007 he announced he didn't know if he wanted to be married anymore. He wanted to go to counseling, to try and make our marriage better. He had a list of things that were wrong. This list included our communication, the quality of time we spent together, and various things about me that bothered him. We attended counseling regularly for three months. I diligently did everything I was told I needed to do, and he did some of what he was told. It wasn't long though, before I was the only one left trying. I tried harder, reminding him of the things we were working on, and putting extra effort to make up for his slack. He refused to go back to counseling. Shortly afterward he announced that he didn't want a divorce, he was happy to stay together.

We bought a house, knowing that tripping over each other in our tiny apartment caused much trouble in our relationship. The big house gave us our space, but for me it was too much. he rarely spent time with me once there were multiple rooms for him to hide in. He sometimes even slept in his office, claiming that the bed gave him backaches. As his situation at work (he had an awful boss) got worse, our home life did too. He often would snap at me for no reason, or tell me he didn't like me. All he ever wanted was to be left alone.

Then, he got a new boss. And our home life got better. We resumed our regular date night, we were laughing together and planning things for the future. We were making improvements on our house, and enjoying each others company. Even our intimate life got considerably better.
Something happened to both of us while I was gone in Colorado. I spent many days updating my journal, chronicling events that I had not been keeping up on. While remembering these days, and writing about our ups and downs and sorrows and triumphs I realized that we would never have a truly happy relationship. I realized that we would not be together for the rest of our lives. I even expressed this sadness to my brother. I realized that this was not the marriage I wanted for myself. I made no plans to leave, as I wanted to see how much better our relationship could get. I am not a believer in divorce. I am not quick to make such large decisions. I loved him with all of me, and my love is not easily broken. I was willing to put in more than 100%, but was he? I hoped my trip would spark some good discussions, and we could work on making things better. The seed had been planted. I sat on the airplane towards home planning a nice, calm evening with the man I loved.

Meanwhile, he was sitting at home, realizing how happy he was with me gone. He found he dreaded every phone call, every email. He didn't want to hear from me. he didn't even want me to come home. he didn't want me at all, and more than that he found he didn't love me, and wished he never had to deal with me again. So he made plans for a divorce. he wrote up a tentative contract, and placed it into a manila envelope. He set it on the floor of the backseat and left for the airport.

trying for normalcy

08.16.09
I need to get back to normal. I have hardly eaten anything solid since The Day, and even then I can't keep it down for more than an hour or so. I have been able to keep down a few slim fast drinks. After another random bout of moping, I was suddenly famished today. I didn't know what to do, as my stomach quit growling days ago. I wandered through the kitchen, and ended up deciding on dry cheerios, as they were the only thing that didn't make my stomach turn. Not more than an hour after I had eaten (and thrown up) a handful of cheerios, I was watching television and saw a commercial for chicken strips. I wanted them. Really, really wanted them. I took this as a sign from above. I cooked myself some chicken nuggets. I ate four of them! It was great, I felt like I actually had energy. I did throw them up later, but it was at least three hours until I did.

I am exhausted all the time. I just want to sleep, but when I finally do around midnight or one AM, I have nightmares then wake up really early and can't fall back asleep because my mind is racing. What? Where? WHY? I just want to be able to eat a normal meal and sleep all the way through the night, and feel happy again. I fear that will take months, or maybe even years.

crying...and crying...and crying

08.15.09
I have been randomly crying, but only for a couple of minutes here and there. I was in Target, I had a cart of things I needed, and began to cry. No trigger, no reason. Just started crying. I had to leave the cart and go. Now I know why there are always random carts lying around stores. It's for people getting divorced.

I had a low spot yesterday. I went on a job interview, one that sounded promising. I drove 45 minutes for the interview, in heavy traffic, canceling my plans to spend a much needed day with a friend. Upon arrival, I thought I was in the wrong place. Loud rap music was playing. There must have been fifteen teenagers filling out applications. I sat through fifteen minutes in the interview, trying to figure out what kind of company this was, before I discovered it was a pyramid scheme. I was devastated.

I wasn't on the freeway for ten minutes before I burst into tears. I expected it to stop after a couple of minutes, but it didn't. I sobbed all the way home. I felt like the world was out to get me. My husband leaves me. I finally got my dream of owning a home. Life was getting better and better, and now I have to leave it all behind.

That evening, he came home from work, sat down next to me on the couch, and just began telling me about his day. It was like nothing had ever happened. I didn't know what to do, but I let him talk. I still care about him, that won't go away right away. When he had finished talking, he went upstairs and went to bed. he is sleeping in his office, where he had already moved all this things before I got home from Colorado. I couldn't take it. I burst into tears again. I cried, and cried and cried. Harder than I have ever cried before. I sobbed so hard, and so loud. Hours turned into more hours. I cried until I ran out of tears, then kept crying. I let it all out. I was angry, and sad and bitter and lonely...I finally fell asleep, still crying.

I hate being alone. I feel so alone already. When I was crying, I wanted so badly to cry in somebody's arms. I don't have anybody I can do that with anymore. I wanted to be held, and hugged, and to feel safe again. My safety is gone.

where to live?

08.13.09
I keep the to do list in my pocket at all times. I’ve added to it since Sunday. Underneath the old list, it now reads, “learn to lean on your friends the way you’ve let them lean on you.” And “let them help.” I have a problem with letting others help me. I’ve always been the strong one, the one with the sensible advice. The one they all went to when they had problems, or when life collapsed around them. Now life is collapsing around me and who can I lean on? I need them all.

I had originally planned to live with a friend of mind, a lady whom I originally met when she hired me to clean her house. She has a spare room, and I can clean in exchange for rent. There were several problems here. First, I could not bring my cats. They are all I have left. I break down in tears when I think of leaving them. Granted, I break down in tears over everything, but they do mean a lot to me. Second, she drinks a lot, and misery loves company and I do not think this would be a good place for me to grow and heal emotionally.

I contacted the grandmother of my friends, from whom we had rented an apartment from before we’d bought our house. My old house was still available…and they’d renovate it for me if I wanted it. After hours of crunching numbers and seeing if I could manage to afford it, I decided I could. Barely, but I could. Slowly, a fog began to lift. Not much, but enough to kick myself into gear, and begin looking to the future.

Now I keep thinking what it will be like living on my own. I’m scared. Not for safety, but for me in general. How will I handle coming home every day to…nobody? Or crawling into bed every night…alone? What happens when my car breaks? Or the TV won’t work? I’ve always had somebody to share responsibilities with, and now it will be just me. The pressure is mounting.

spreading the news

08.10.09
I knew I had to tell everybody. I figured the sooner the better, since I knew I would need a large network of support. Plus, I didn’t want there to be any rumors, I wanted to be open and honest about what was going on. Sunday night my friends and I had a beach bonfire trip planned. My one friend who knew what had happened drove, and we made the 45 minute drive out to Oceanside. I hadn’t exactly figured out how to tell everybody. I really hate telling bad news, not because I don’t like sharing, but because I hate to be a downer on the evening.

I pulled aside one of my closest friends and listened to her talk for a while, as we walked down the beach. Eventually, she asked how I was doing. I paused. “Well…” I had a difficult time continuing, as tears began to roll down my face. I was thankful it was dark, and also surprised I still had tears left. I blurted out, “He left me and we are getting a divorce.” Her reaction was not unexpected, first shock, then concern for me, then anger towards him. It was like the entire grieving process in about five minutes.

I still couldn’t figure out how to tell the other couple there, other close friends of mine. I don’t remember how, but we ended up in a car together, and gave them the news. Their reaction was more unexpected. “Jackass.” The husband proclaimed, along with other expletives that degraded my husband’s sexual anatomy. That was a nice, needed comic relief. I relaxed a little, and was able to field a lot of questions, few of which I were able to answer.

I ate the first piece of food in over 24 hours, a hot dog cooked over the fire. Three hours later, I threw it up. I didn’t even feel hungry, though the sickness I felt in my stomach had been turning since the night before. One more hard part hurdled, an infinite amount to go.

what now?

08.09.09
Today I left Dad’s house early and went home, although I wasn’t sure if it was still my home. I managed to stay dry-eyed until I walked into the house and was greeted with my favorite wedding photo. I burst into tears, and cried laying on the floor right where I had been standing. I finally gathered myself together, and went through the house taking down every photo of Him and I. Once upstairs, I fell to the floor once again, crying. There were so many questions and I had no answers to any of them. I didn't know what to do. How will I make it on my own? I have no job; I am a full time student. Where will I live? I can't keep the house. How will I survive being alone? The biggest thought screaming through my head was, "I CAN'T DO THIS." I wished I was dead. The night wore on relentlessly, the darkness and silence filling a very huge hole in my heart. I had no idea, but I had a very long road ahead of me.

Fear and sorrow filled my entire being. My head spun, and no thought was finished. My mind was racing at a hundred miles an hour, but no straight lines could be found. I knew I had to get myself together, but every time I pulled myself up off the floor, I fell right back to it, tears falling from my face. It was several hours later that my tears ran dry; I had nothing left to cry. I climbed into my bed, using the last of my energy. After fumbling for a pen and paper, I began to make a list of what I needed to do. At the top of my list: QUIT CRYING. I hate crying. It makes my nose run, and my head hurt. I was nearly sure that I had cried more in the last two days than I had in my entire life. Knowing that this first goal may be unreasonable, I continued. I added “find a new place to live” and “Get a job.” I had stopped working when my last place of employment went out of business, and was focusing on rushing through to get my degree. I also added, “Learn how to be alone” and “never stop looking forward.”

the beginning of the end

08.08.09
On August 8, 2009 I came home from seeing my sister in Colorado. Before I my plane took off, my facebook post read: “just touched down in phoenix, raced to make my connection because my first plane was way late and now I'm sitting on my second plane, nearly home!” I was so glad to be getting home and seeing my husband. I had a nice evening planned, just at home spending quality time with him. He met me at the airport. He had flowers waiting for me on the car seat, and I smiled, thinking what a great evening this would be.

We sat down at Fizollis, a nearby fast food restaurant. He pulled out a manila envelope and gave me this smile, a look I had seen before. It read, ‘I love you, but this will hurt you.’ In the split second before he announced it, I knew what was coming. My heart sank and my stomach turned. I began to get dizzy. I barely heard him say, “I want a divorce.”

The room swam in front of me, as our food arrived all I wanted to do was get out of there. He just began to eat. I vaguely remember him asking if I was going to eat, but I didn’t answer. I couldn’t answer. After what seemed like an eternity I followed him out to the car. He offered to let me drive home, and he would call a cab, but I couldn’t see straight, I knew there was no way I could drive.

My world was falling down around me. I knew that my entire life would change, from this point forward it would all be different. I didn’t know what to do, or where to turn. My best idea was my friend’s father. He’d been through several divorces, and at least he could give me practical advice. Besides, he had played a father figure role for me for the past several years.

After a tearful meeting with dad, I was ushered off to bed. I was physically and emotionally exhausted, but I could not fall asleep. I lay awake, dry eyed and terrified. I tried to distract myself by reading a book I had started on the plane, but to no avail. I slept very little that night.