My dear readers. How are you? It’s certainly been a while since I’ve written. I hope you all are well.
I want to let you know what’s been happening with me. There’s been a lot going on, and I haven’t told you anything about it.
Because it’s been hard.
Because I’ve been ashamed.
Last August – yes, that’s August 2017 – I separated from my husband. I moved out of the home we had shared for seven years and got an apartment a few miles away. When I moved out, my apartment wasn’t ready. I spent two weeks staying in a friend’s guest room and then another week in a short stay. Basically, I was homeless for three weeks.
You couldn’t pay me a million dollars to relive that time of my life. Honestly.
It took me about a month to settle into my new apartment, get the furniture I needed and set a good shared custody routine for our two kids. In September, I began some special testing to diagnose my ongoing fatigue. My mom visited in October. In early November, a college student ran a red light at the end of my street and t-boned my car, totaling it. I was on crutches for two days with a bruised foot. I spent Thanksgiving day with a friend at the Outer Banks of North Carolina while the kids ate with their dad.
In January, I traveled to Costa Rica with my organization. In February, I started physical therapy for leg and back problems unrelated to the car accident. In March, my mom (and her dog) moved to Virginia and lived with me while she looked for a job and a house. I finished PT in June, which is also when my mom moved out. I bought a cane for my leg that was stubbornly refusing to heal and visited New York City for a weekend.
In July, I went back to my doctor to try to diagnose the source of my fatigue. I saw a neurologist this August and underwent more tests last month.
In the midst of all of this, I’ve been working full-time, doing weekly psychotherapy sessions, processing trauma, adjusting to new meds, rebuilding my faith, trying to date, helping my kids through the separation, resisting Trump, and managing my own place.
To say it’s been a brutal year would be an understatement. As you can imagine, much of my capacity in that time has been limited to lying on my back and staring at the ceiling.
I’m in a decent place right now mentally and emotionally – not by accident, either. It was hard won. Much of it came through caring people offering to help and me accepting that help. I’ve worked through most of my grief and anger over my marriage ending, and I have a good co-parenting relationship my ex.
But I’m embarrassed.
I tried so hard to make my marriage work, and it didn’t work. I prayed, and it didn’t work. I begged, and it didn’t work. I made changes, and it didn’t work. I was sure I knew all the right things to do, and it still didn’t work.
What happened? I woke up one morning and didn’t recognize the person lying next to me. The man I had fallen in love with was gone, replaced by a stranger. I tried to give this stranger a chance, to get to know him and connect with him. But I soon discovered that I didn’t even like this person. And I don’t think he liked me much, either. We shared none of the same values, interests, or perspectives.
So now I find myself exactly where I didn’t want to be at age 35: single. I wanted to be married for 50 years. I wanted to raise kids, build a career, and then retire with my spouse to travel the world and do many of the things we had been putting on hold. I never wanted to start over with someone else and make all those forever promises again.
But here I am anyway.
So…what does that mean?
In my personal life, it means I pick up the pieces and move forward. There’s a lot I’m trying to figure out around the direction my career might take or where I might live once my lease is up again next summer. I’m still attending the local Unitarian Universalist church and finding a supportive community there. And I want to find a new companion who is a good fit for me – sooner than later. I’m ready.
As for the blog, I’m not sure. I imagine I’ll come back and write about some faith-based things that have been stirring in my brain lately. But with my life taking such a drastic turn, I don’t know if the blog will stay the same.
Do I want to keep pounding nails into the coffin of Christian fundamentalism? Or do I want to forge a different path into something new? I think only time will tell.