My Alone-aversary

Well, it looks like I am finally back online, and hopefully this *&^# modem will not conk out on me like the last 2 have. I have had an unbelievable few weeks, with everything from computer problems to a new dog with allergies!

And yes, as you can see by the title, yesterday was one tough day, as I reached the 10th, which marked one month since The Jerk moved out. I had no idea it would hit me as hard as it did, but it was quite miserable. In one sense it has gone by incredibly fast, as each day is overwhelming, with so much to do and not enough time to get it all done, thus I stay up until 2 a.m. and wake at 6:30. But on the other, it seems that he's been gone forever, and it can't have only been one month.

I think the thing that is hardest about the death of a marriage is that there is no goodbye. I never got one final hug, one last goodbye and then it's done. I just keep having to deal with him over and over, and the anger and yuck just keeps coming back up like acid in my throat. Will it ever go away? I have really had to set some boundaries for myself with him lately, as he is so much farther along in this process, and so completely detached, that he has no clue (or just doesn't give a rip!) how much some of these interactions are hurting me. For example, he is taking the kids to his parents' house 4 hours away for the weekend before Christmas for 3 nights, and I've reluctantly agreed, with the understanding that I'll have them for the rest of Christmas. But he has a pickup truck, and I have an SUV that we just bought 2 weeks prior to his moving out. So he had the nerve to ask to take the SUV so that there would be more room for the kids' presents, etc. (and I bet he wanted the convenience of the t.v., I'm sure). So I had to think about that a bit, because, after all, he is still the one making the payments on both vehicles. But you know what? That SUV is my safe place. It is one of the few places I can go that I know for a fact that he didn't email or talk on the phone to his "friend," whereas almost every other room in my house has been violated. Plus, since the SUV was so new when he left and he rarely drove it, there are almost no memories of him associated with it, yet my house is full of memories - from the dishes I use (wedding gift), to the comforter that I bought when I was trying to spice up our sex life. There's no way I want him driving my car! So I told him that, and I have to say, although I could tell he thought I was nuts, he at least listened, and respected my boundary about it, and it felt good to express it.

I guess I'm just continually amazed at how quickly he has flipped the switch. How easily he has moved from being together to being apart, when I'll be reading something and think, "Wow, The Jerk would enjoy hearing about this!" and then remember that we don't speak anymore. How does someone just throw away 20 years of history? Obviously he had disconnected a long time ago and I just didn't know it, which makes me feel even more stupid for not seeing the signs. Of course, now in retrospect, I realize a lot of things I should have seen. But who knew? He has even said that he has been "emotionally divorced" for years. Gee. Why didn't someone let me know? I'm just now going on a month. The most painful month of my life.

It's unofficially official

I am officially christening this blog "The Scarlet D", to remain as such, as I am now 99% sure that I will be getting a divorce in the next year. I had wavered there for a bit on the blog name, wondering if I had moved too soon in assuming the worst, but no, The Jerk is, indeed as much a jerk as I was afraid. We met for lunch today (my idea) to discuss a variety of subjects, most notably the issue that I want to remove his name from the credit cards of which I am the primary holder. (A smart move, I've been told, in case he goes crazy and drives us even further into debt, I will let him do it on his primary cards and not on mine.)

The whole lunch experience did not go well, as I was not as strong as I had hoped to be and teared up a bit, and then I just had to ask, "So...this six-month thing...is it just to let me down easy?" And his reply, "Not originally - it wasn't, but now, I guess it's just to give you time to get a job and get settled and all." So there you have it. I knew deep down that this was coming, yet actually hearing the words still cut me to the core. I guess I wanted the power. I wanted to be the one to say them. I didn't want to be a pity case that he had to "let down gently." I want him to be miserable, and lonely, and stressed, and on the same sickening roller coaster that I've been on for the last 3 weeks.

As I drove home and cried, I just kept thinking, "I'm going to be a divorced woman. I'm going to be a 'single mom.'" I guess I just grew up thinking this would never happen to me. And now I guess I owe an explanation of my blog name. When I was growing up, my mother, who is extremely judgemental of others, always used to speak of certain women as "Oh, she's di-VORCED," with a raised eyebrow and a tone of indignation. I live in the south in the Bible belt, and it has taken me many years to learn that guilt and shame is not what life in general (and Christianity in particular) is all about. That there's another side to it all - a side of grace and unconditional love and freedom that I never knew existed. Yet what you grow up with is often so ingrained into your thinking that certain words are tainted forever, and for me, "divorced" and "single mom" are two of them. So when it occurred to me that I might become one, my first reaction was to feel a huge wave of guilt and shame. I imagined spending the rest of my life walking around marked, like Hester Prynne, with a scarlet letter "D" on my chest for all the world to see, exposing my sin and shame.

And to some extent the thought of the future scares me enough that I still feel that way just a bit, but not as much anymore. I know that society doesn't see me that way, but what matters is how I see myself. And that is what I must work on for now.

I didn't buy this ticket to ride

Well, I'm finally back on the internet, and I have to say I feel pretty proud of myself. I've waited for almost a week for my provider to send a new modem, and it's been excruciating being offline and "unplugged" from the rest of the world, but it finally came today. My first thoughts were ones of hopelessness and helplessness: "How am I going to set it up?" "Who's going to figure out all those wires, etc. without my husband here" etc., as he was the techno geek in the family. But guess what? I did it all by myself, and feel so proud of my little accomplishment of not having to depend on someone else. (By the way, thanks to Which Box for passing along an award and a nod. We seem to be travelling the same road, and I've so missed keeping up with her this week.)

Otherwise my week has been a roller coaster of emotions between feeling really peaceful and o.k. with what's going on and really angry and afraid of what lies ahead. I had a meeting with my counselor, and was quite surprised that he basically advised me to move forward with plans to divorce, as he doesn't see any signs of repentance, recommitment, or hope of reconciliation in my husband. I guess I knew this deep down, too, but hearing it come from someone else just seemed shocking to me, and made it even more real, yet I left feeling almost peaceful, knowing that I don't have to wait for his decision about whether to resuscitate this marriage or not. I have the power to decide as well. I have choices, too. And that felt empowering.

Then the next morning I was insanely furious, after he (what can I call him? I need a name - "the jerk"?) showed up to take the kids to school (his idea for now), and my daughter spilled her milk while taking it to the sink. We were running late because of a previous meltdown that had happened (the kids are extra emotional right now, which is to be expected), and they didn't have on their coats and shoes yet. So I got down on my hands and knees to clean up the milk, and they were scurrying around trying to finish getting ready, and what did he do? Without a word, he walked out and left the chaos and sat in his truck with the engine running like a bus driver. They're still his children! Would it kill him to help with a shoe or a coat, a backpack or a lunch bag? No, he has completely checked out. I was so angry when they left that I wanted to cry. Who is this man? How did we get here? How did we go from intimate conversations and best friends and lovers to this? What happened?

But then I hit rock bottom today at the doctor's office. Everyone has been warning me that the truth about what my husband may have actually done or not done may be worse than what I've been told, and I need to prepare myself for additional details that could surface later. I can't bring myself to even think about that right now, but I was due for an annual gynecological exam anyway, so while I have insurance coverage, I went ahead and made an appointment. Once I told my doctor what has been going on, he advised (as I knew he would) all sorts of extra tests - for HIV and various STDs, etc., and the fears and shame that came along with drawing blood for that was nearly more than I could bear. I kept thinking, "What if...?...Who would take care of my kids?...Who would ever want me again?...I can't take any more bad news right now," and on and on it went, circling downward into the pit of despair until I almost reached a full-fledged panic attack, and couldn't wait to get out of there.

How do women in a divorce situation do this? How do they survive the insanity, all the while working and taking care of their kids and themselves without totally falling apart? I am so tired already, and it's only been three weeks. People ask me how I'm doing, and I have to answer, "O.k. for this hour at least" because my emotions are so varied. Yet everyone keeps telling me how great I'm doing! I don't feel great. I feel exhausted. And when my entire future alone like this stretches out before me I don't think I can do it. Three weeks. The longest, hardest three weeks of my life so far. I never liked roller coasters much anyway.

Two very different Thanksgivings

Well, I never knew that Thanksgiving could be so depressing. Or could make one so bitter and angry. But when one's husband is 13 and leaves town to go home to his mommy and one is left abandoned with the children and a home that is falling apart from years of neglect because he was too damn busy on the internet with his various girlfriends over the last 10 years, one tends to become angry. Very angry. And that is where I am.

It all started on Wednesday when the old dog (Pudding) had an unplanned meeting with the new dog (Ginger) at the front door because she had gotten out of the gate. This is the gate that has been broken for, oh, maybe 3 years, and said husband has refused to spend the money to fix. So he has patched it here and there and it never holds. Well, Pudding was none too happy to find out about Ginger this way, and it did not go well. So now the garbage can that I have to empty every week is outside blocking the gate instead of in the garage where it should be. Believe me, the gate will be fixed this week.

Then the real stuff hit the fan. On Thanksgiving morning, our home was 65 degrees, and the pilot light to the heater was out. So I got to call another woman's husband away from his family on Thanksgiving day to come show me how to light the pilot light. Because my &$^#$% husband is at his mommy's getting his laundry done, and, later on he called to say he had been out riding 4-wheelers. How fun! So over the course of 2 days the pilot light went out 3 times, and the temperature dropped to 55 degrees. Finally by Friday afternoon I found someone to fix it, and praise God, he didn't even charge me.

But we're not done. I spent all day Friday calling credit card companies to find out if I can get my name off the cards and vice-versa in case my husband decides to go on a spending spree. Also, my state is the kind that just splits everything down the middle in a divorce, including debt, and I don't really feel like financing this vacation from reality of his for the rest of my life. So guess what goes next? Yep, the DSL connection. Now I'm waiting 4 days for a new modem before I am back up online again. Right now I'm at a friend's house because I so need to vent.

So he shows up today and I refrain from spewing venom all over him until I talk to my counselor on Monday. Once I spew, I know that it may be over. But I did mention the heater, and did he show any concern? For me? For his children? None at all. Not one question about how we stayed warm, how we got it fixed, what happened, nothing. Nada. Zilch. Who is this monster that I've been married to? I just can't believe it! Has it been this way a long time and I just didn't see it? I feel so neglected in that so much of this stuff was not taken care of before. A lot of it he "never had time for," yet now I know where he was spending all his time.

And how do people "do" this separation thing? He's signed a 6-month lease! I can't wait 6 months for him to figure out what to "do" with me! I'm not disposable, like meat in the freezer waiting to be thrown out! I just can't stand the thought of waiting around while he takes a vacation from all responsibility - while he stays up nights online, watching movies, playing video games, etc. like a pre-teen. While I'm taking care of the kids, the house, and making all the decisions. How do people DO this?

Yes, I'm angry. And I'm going to blow. And I never dreamed that it would happen so soon. And I'm worried about his response. And yet I'm not. I don't know that I really care what a 13-year-old thinks.

And for Ginger, I give thanks...

Well, I did something completely out of character and irrational today, yet I believe it was a good thing. I took the kids and bought a dog from the animal shelter. Not that a dog can replace their daddy, but maybe it can help heal their broken hearts a bit.

You see, four years ago I talked my husband into a golden retriever puppy, which he has resented ever since. Her name is Pudding, and although she is a beautiful, sweet animal, she has never outgrown some of her puppy behavior. She has an annual routine of digging up and cracking the sprinkler heads, and if allowed in the main part of the house, will steal things to bury in the back yard. Add to that the fact that neither of the kids has ever really bonded with her, and you have a very large, expensive boarder who doesn't pay rent.

For the last two years the kids have been begging for an indoor dog; a small, cuddly one they can play with that can sleep on their bed and be their friend. My daughter (age 6) especially adores dogs, and envisions herself a vet someday. I've been arguing with my spouse about this for about six months to no avail.

Well guess what? He doesn't live here anymore. And my children are sad and lonely and we are having a very hard time trying to get through the holidays without daddy. Plus, my daughter, who is very cuddly and affectionate, has transferred all of her insecurity and need for affection to her older brother (age 8), and is smothering him with her hugs. She actually said (in front of Daddy, no less!) that she should start calling her brother "Daddy", since "he's the man of the house now". It was a very awkward moment for all of us, and I hope it showed my husband that, unlike he thought, his actions did indeed have a huge effect on his children. For some reason he had thought "My moving out won't affect them that much. I can still be a good daddy, and this isn't about them, it's about our marriage." Right.

So I thought about it, prayed about it, and on a whim, checked to see what the local shelters had available. With one phone call I discovered "Ginger," a pure bred shih-tzu, nearly six-years old, whose owners had to drop her off because of financial problems. Before they left her, they got all her shots up to date and had her groomed. She is 5 pounds overweight (spoiled rotten!), totally trained, and although dirty and full of fleas, with a bath and some medicine, she is now looking like the princess she always knew she was.

I just know God picked her out for our family. I feel such a connection to her, I think, because she is an older dog who was abandoned, just like me. She needs us as much as we need her. And I hope and pray that she will be with us for a long, long time, and that my daughter can whisper all her secrets to her when she's sad.

And just maybe I will, too.

So this is life-support

I've decided that the best analogy for my marriage right now is that it is on life-support. And my husband has power of attorney to decide if and when to pull the plug. I'm not sure how long I want to live this way - not really dead, yet not really alive either. Not really married, yet not really divorced. Just in limbo - financially dependent on him, waiting for the papers to be served. Don't you think he's probably enjoying that level of control just a bit?

At the urging of my friends, I did go ahead and visit with an attorney, and I'm very glad. It eased my mind that if, after a few months of "finding out who he is" with his internet "friend" he decides he doesn't want to be married anymore, there are a lot of options for keeping his support while I get established. And I got a lot of good advice for what I should be doing financially in the meantime to protect myself should he decide to go on a spending spree with our credit cards.

But I guess the question that I needed answered was "How long?" and nobody can answer that but me. Not that I'm done yet. Not that I wouldn't love to see my family restored and have my children get their daddy back. But for me personally, my heart is so wounded, so damaged by what I've seen of the coldness of his, that I don't know if I could ever forget it. I might even be able to forgive it, but could I ever forget it? To wash this pain from my memory enough to risk letting it back in again? That's the part I'm not really sure about.

So my ultimate question is this: my marriage is on life support. Do I want "Do Not Resuscitate" orders or not?

Is a name change due?

I am so very confused. Maybe I need to reconstruct this blog and change the name, since I don't know what the hell my husband is doing (and neither does he, apparently).

In a nutshell, we've had major codependency problems for years. He can't deal with conflict or any negative emotions and runs away to various addictions, and I'm a classic rescuer who is going to "fix" him. From the moment we met, it's pretty much been the same pattern: I rescue, he falls in line; he resents me, falls back into addiction (usually internet chatting and online romances); I find out or he confesses and wants out; we get counseling, they tell him to shape up; he pretends to change, but on the inside is not dealing with any of the issues; and we start all over again.

The sad thing is it's taken us nearly 14 years to figure out this pitiful cycle we're in and realize it's not working. This awesome class I took (called "Untangling Relationships: A Christian's Perspective of Codependency") showed me so clearly that I needed to break the cycle. So I've changed, and it's been pretty drastic and suddenly. God has really changed my heart about how I've done life for so long, and it's been completely freeing. But the people I used to "do the dance" with - both my husband and my mother - have been left very uncomfortable, not understanding how to interact with me now that I don't rescue them anymore and don't make myself responsible for them and their feelings all the time.

Now my mother the narcissist just digs in her heels and fights with all her might to get things back to the way they were. But my husband is so confused. He starts realizing that everything he's complained about in me for so long is now gone, yet he's still miserable. So what does that mean? That maybe he's got some stuff to work on himself? No way! Could it be?

And now that brings us to the present. When he moved out one week ago today, I was under the assumption that it was just to give me a period of time to get a job, get health insurance, etc., until he files for divorce. I based this on the fact that our last talk before he left was at the counselor's office, where he refused all offers of further assistance, and announced that he was leaving. Yet we met tonight to discuss Thanksgiving plans, and guess what? He has made an appointment with another counselor that he feels more comfortable with to "figure out who I am".

Is this is a good thing? I have been trying for the last week to visualize myself as a divorced mother of two. I don't really know what this information means right now, or if it means anything at all. I don't know if he'll find what he's looking for, and if he does, whether it will include me or not, or even if I want it to at this point. I don't know if I want to have to wait for the years of therapy that it's going to take for him to "find himself," when I could be closing this door, grieving this part of my life, and moving on. I don't know whether to be happy or sad. I don't know how to feel. I don't know anything.

I just know that now it seems maybe a little premature to be named The Scarlet D.