Grieve Divorce, It’s Real

Is it the family times I miss, all of us together or do I miss my former marriage? I’ve thought a lot about this and have come to a semi-conclusion.

I miss the hell outta my family.

My kids are older, young adults now. The great memories of my family, kids growing up, far supersede the negative. While that’s a beautiful thing, thereby the grieving so deeply entrenched as I continue moving forward.

Does estrangement make a difference?

If I were to talk, connect with my kids now, how much of a difference would it make in terms of my grieving process? I think a lot about this as well. Interestingly enough, ex (I really dislike that term – perhaps former…) and I still communicate, mostly about our children. At the same time, there was a time, he truly was my best friend. Which begs the question:

What the hell happened?

After almost thirty years together the reasons are endless. Well, the small ones anyway. More pertinent reasons involve love, acceptance, tolerance and respect. Pretty heavy shit. And somewhere along the road of my marriage, I began feeling very little of this from my former. This is not to say I held no responsibility on my part. Our demise is much greater than behavior alone.

A side note…

I have purposely decided to not write about the man I now love. He is his own man, has his own life and I am not quite ready to share. I’m discovering the further along my own journey continues, so are our lives intersected. That is its own story I will share soon. His story is a familiar one very much like mine. Grieving is a process that must come at its own time on its own terms.

Let the grieving continue. I don’t know where exactly I am in my own process yet I know I’m still grieving. Fighting it is moot. The sad feelings will never dissipate until/unless I allow myself to feel.

How does one know if they are wallowing or merely grieving after divorce?

My answer lies in healing. Awareness is part of healing. And I am acutely aware of who I am now, what my family means to me and where I want to go. And so I carry on, write here, share myself, listen to others. An open mind leaves room for more healing. As painful as this process continues, so am I able to help others. I think that is where I long to be.

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Intimacy: Larger Than Life

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How can it be that this magnificent ocean be so vast yet incredibly intimate at the same time? The beach, its sounds, fragrance, still my sanctuary, the place where my healing continues.

My fears of what I felt in the past slowly dissolve as I come to terms with who I am. And to say such a thing, I grapple with the selfish insinuation of this statement. “Who I am” – as if I’m nothing more than a teen in angst. This is not so. This is me. This is my life. We all have the opportunity to allow for growth and self-introspection. I am doing so with the purpose of giving back in ways not yet discovered.

Why is intimacy within ourselves so painful. The reality of who we were need not be marred by who we are today. I am learning to define myself based on nothing but merely me – a lone, single individual. No longer a wife, a stay-at-home mother, the loss of who I was, no longer there. Loss of my mom, my father-in-law, marriage, estrangement of children, safety of suburbia, everything I sought to for safety, to feel needed and appreciated….gone.

This is my truth, my reality. It is not an end, it’s my new beginning. And no longer marred by fear – the fear of disapproval from others, my motivation now based on the belief I am solid, a worthwhile person.

The journey continues, as does writing. I hope to reopen my blog again soon – to share my story for those who need comfort, solace, peace. Divorce, the most painful decision of my life, also, the beauty of discovery for without the pain there can be no joy. My joy, as my pain is mine to keep. They are a part of me, who I am.

Retrospect, Demise & the Connectedness of Texting

I’m convinced if texting were invented when I first married, my husband and I would be in ever-wedded communication bliss, simply by texting, the preferred venue of choice, best we’re able to converse with each other. Thanks to our respective iPhones, our novels, plenty of gigabytes, megabytes, whatever-bytes..for reasons that baffle, our way of reaching out, attempting to understand each other. Our texting of late, I am more open, at ease, with HIM, with myself. That said, the disconnect, always present and accounted for. 

As he and I come to closer to closure to settlement, questions, the “why’s” of our demise rise to the occasion, retrospect, our choice of emotional connection, grasping the what the fuck happened to an otherwise decent and loving 27 year marriage?

And yet, texting does not make a marriage..the disconnect abides, ever-present, more so than ever. Not willing or able to hear me, his defenses appear once again and I am reminded how I got here. His use of the word, “tragic” sucks the life out of me, as I refuse to believe the depth of such tragedy…it is too soon to make such judgements, how “tragic” the demise of our marriage is. Sadness, sorrowful, all of this, though how this plays out for us both has yet to be determined. Our differences evident, profound, even today.

My text to him:

If we were to have figured all of these subtleties out (intimacy, lack of emotional connectedness) then what? How to have foreseen this? Are we to change who we are for the betterment of another? To say it is tragic equals no possibility of hope. I believe you would not connect with me in ways you need…As it is, I’m looking at medical insurance plans…anywhere from $750 to $889 for individual coverage in my age bracket. This is the reality of divorce. I am moving beyond affairs, the validation of others, especially from men, now seeking peace within myself. I have come to terms with the depth of my insecurities, unable to truly understand the level of pain instilled until this experience, my journey over the last two years. That pain continues dissipating and slowly, I become more real, genuine, the most honest I’ve ever been. I share with you as I learn myself. So difficult not to share though not certain its purpose other than to reveal more of my true self with you. 

His response:

First, I don’t think the demise of our marriage was limited to just these two factors (intimacy issues, lack of emotional connectedness) There were and are many others, but these are two biggies. Second, using the word “tragic” doesn’t imply that both of us have no hope of ever having a healthy happy relationship with someone. However, in our case it is tragic in terms of the amount of time, effort & money we put into our relationship over the years & yet even with all  that good will and collective energy, it’s over. That’s what I meant.

Retrospect, demise, the end, it’s over. Healing continues for both of us. And soon…a time to begin anew, with purpose, with hope, fresh perspective. And those texts? Gotta feeling those shall remain as they are – a safe way of connecting our respectful disconnectedness. Welcome to the new world of divorce: conversing through texting, 2012.

Endure. Divide. Conquer.

Retirement Accounts, IRAs, Roths, Deferral Payments, Liquid Accounts, Spousal Support:

All in the Day of Division

Money makes the world go ’round. Until one divorces. Then the buck seriously stops there.

Today I attend another session of mediation, an experience not yet fully comprehended; what seemingly looks agreeable and cohesive on paper, how quickly transparency appears: we are all influenced by money, whether it be material goods or the sheer psychology of how it makes one feel.

Division of assets; parting of dishes, towel sets, book cases and night stands, we find ourselves at the last bastion of dissolution,  the disparaging quandary: spousal support.

And so I sit among papers and documents, online articles, court cases; the upcoming opportunity to defend my position, what I deem fair and just, my own philosophy of money now in question.

How much is enough?

Me: How easily taking care of a father-in-law, role as a caregiver, forgotten. My time as a reentry student in college, all while taking care of two children, husband, household, rarely begrudgingly, a life I loved.

Him: How easily to take for granted, a man dedicated to his family, his work, and extension of who he was and is, the wanting what’s best for his family without question for the day-in-day-out of living, his contribution to the family, as instrumental as I.

Both of us, a working partnership, each an active and attentive participant, choices we both made for ourselves, each other, our family.

Time has been kind to me in many ways. I am now at only the beginning of understanding the importance of ME.

What is the sum of worthiness? 

Time has allowed me the opportunity to question, ask, not so easily give as I’ve done before. Divorce can harden the heart. In my case, it’s made me stronger, the awakening of a voice yet discovered. And I am at the beginning as I am ending.

I make no apologies asking for support as I did at one time. What are all those years of diapers, sticky baby food, birthday parties, happy holidays, laughter in the pool, barbeques with friends…how does one equate a dollar amount to these values?  I need to live. I need money. And I need the monetary support of my soon-to-be-ex-husband. I need time to re-establish my career. I need time to make rational decisions, the time to figure out where I want to be and when. It is easy to discount one’s worthiness after doing so a number of years?

At war….with myself

I do not wish to fight for monetary rights. I am a sane and well-educated woman. Pragmatism suits me just fine, thank you very much. If not heard today, with respect, I shall make the choice to obtain my attorney. It must be done for I will walk away, undermining my self once again. No more, as I am quite proud of who I am becoming. I have endured. I am dividing. I shall conquer. There is no monetary value as such.