On my own

As I was writing my 2500 words today, I was struck by the realization that I am afraid of being alone. Not scared of the dark afraid. Not afraid to go to the movies or have dinner by myself. Afraid of spending the rest of my life without someone of the opposite sex to share it with. My divorce is almost final and then I'll be officially on my own. I wanted the divorce so it's not that I want my ex back or anything. And I thought I'd be psyched to be on my own and have some of the freedom I was lacking. Which is why I was surprised by that realization.

I thought something deeper was going on and wanted to figure out where the fear was coming from so I sat in Remembrance on it. Remembrance is a wonderful Sufi meditation practice of connecting with your heart which is taught by Mark Silver. After just a short time in Remembrance, I had some interesting revelations.

The first thought that popped into my head was "Being alone means death." That might seem a bit over-dramatic unless you look at it from an ancient human DNA standpoint. When humans were living in the wilderness, being exiled or separated from the tribe meant certain death from starvation or hungry wild animals. Women needed a provider to take care of them and their children. Even though it's not at all applicable to me in this life, it's probably something that comes from my 'lizard brain' that doesn't want to be ignored. (The lizard brain is the part of our brains that has been with us since the beginning of our evolution as a species and it's most concerned with survival. It's the part of our brains that makes snap judgments about the safety of people and situations and helps keep us safe from a hungry tiger. Which is generally not relevant to life on the streets of Chicago. But you never know, I suppose.)

I thought about how the need to be part of a "tribe" might apply, even if tangentially, to my life today and it occurred to me that most people have an innate drive to connect with other people. It might be the lizard brain tribal inclusion drive. Or it might be more emotionally-based rather than survival-based. I know that I have a strong need for emotional connection and I don't think I'm alone. The growth of social media bears that out. I know there are a lot of people that use Twitter and Facebook and the like to make money but far more people are using them to connect to other people in some deeper way. For some, online relationships are a poor substitute for the "real thing." But some of my online relationships have been deeper, more interesting and more life-changing than many off-line relationships. That said, romantic relationships that are solely online leave something to be desired. (And let's leave it at that, shall we?)

So I went deeper into Remembrance and realized that I've been avoiding some things related to my being on my own. As part of my divorce, we need to sell our condo and get our own apartments. We're separated but we share the condo and a one-bedroom apartment nearby. Whoever has custody for the week lives with the kids in the condo and the other lives in the apartment. And then we switch. (It's called "nesting" which is short for "something done by parents who can't live with each other but can't bear to make their children move"). It's been a great transition for the kids but frankly it's been a royal pain in the ass for me. I lug all my business and personal stuff back and forth every week. Despite the difficulty, I've been avoiding doing some things that will help us get our condo on the market and I haven't even started to look for my own apartment. So I asked my heart what was up with that. And then I did the math. I've lived with my husband for seventeen years. That's almost half my life. Before that, I was on my own for only a few years because before that I lived at home or with roommates or in a sorority or a dorm. So in my entire life, I only lived alone for a few years. That's it. Now I'll be responsible for my own housing. Picking the right place, decorating it, taking care of it. For some people that's probably exciting. I thought it would be exciting for me, too but it's not. It's honestly terrifying. But until I really sat with my procrastination and anxiety and asked my heart about it, I had no idea what was going on. (You probably can't imagine what a wimp I feel like right now. I mean, what is the big deal? Eighteen year olds barely out of high school are able to get themselves into apartments. What the hell is up with me?).

I wish I could say that in all this I came up with some solutions to getting past my fear that I could share with you. But I didn't. Not yet, anyway. As with my habit of over-apologizing, knowing is half the battle. Now that I know about my fear and know that at least some of it comes from my reactionary, fraidy-pants lizard brain, maybe I can manage it better and move forward. I've found that once I accept the fact that I'm afraid about something, the fear isn't as intense anymore. Our fear is there to protect us so if we don't pay attention to it, our fear will get more and more intense until we do pay attention.

So, Fear, I hear you. I get that you're afraid I'll die if I'm all alone (and I promise I'm not laughing at that feeling even though you have to admit it's kind of funny). And I understand that you're afraid I won't be able to handle all the things that go into living alone - what with my ADD and bad habit of avoiding paperwork and other boring yet important things. But I promise you I'll be ok. Really I will. It would be fantastic if you could go over and talk to Procrastination about all this and maybe the two of you could give me a break for a little while so I can get some stuff done. Maybe you two can take a vacation somewhere nice? Stay as long as you like. Alrighty then. Are we cool? Cool. Glad we had this talk.

Home sweet home

I'm sitting here crying and I'm not really sure why. I just read this post over at Fluent Self. One of my all-time favorite places to hang out. Because Havi and Selma the duck are amazing.

So the post that made me cry is about doing tax prep. The "have to" that I've been procrastinating on for months. It's a task that is now smoldering and about to turn into a huge fire. I didn't do last year's tax prep until October. Yes, October (after a bunch of extensions and all that). I don't want to do that again and my soon-to-be-ex will be (rightfully) pissed if that happens again. (He does the kids taxes and I do ours. It's an arrangement that works and I really am ok with it).

What is it about doing the damn tax prep that makes me so crazy? It has to do with money, numbers and paperwork. It's a thing adults have to do and, frankly, I'm sick and tired of being an adult. I hate being responsible for everyone and everything. I hate being responsible for paying for everything. I've been the sole financial support for this family for the last six years and I don't want to do it anymore. But now that I'm getting a divorce, there isn't anyone else around here to support me and the kids. So it's me. And these are the last taxes (I think) that my ex and I will file jointly. So getting the work done means finalizing the divorce. I want the divorce. I need the divorce. It's a good thing. But that doesn't make it easy. And that doesn't mean that I'm not sad as hell that that my marriage ended.

And here come the tears again. How can I be so happy about the divorce but be scared to death and crying about doing the final bits of work that will allow us to finalize it? I guess finalizing it means that I really am alone. I'm scared of being alone. And of having to do everything myself. I'm scared not knowing where I'll be and how I'll pay the bills. I want so badly to trust that if I follow my inner guidance, everything will be ok. If I'm crying and I'm scared does it mean that I don't trust the Universe? Does it mean that I won't be able build the life I want to live? Or does the fact that I can admit how terrified I am mean that I'm more likely to be able to let go of the fear and do what needs to be done?

No wonder I haven't been able to do the taxes. Because it's so much more than just taxes. I'm still tied to the dock right now but doing the tax prep will mean cutting another rope that holds me there. When all the ropes are cut, I'll be adrift. I'm not sure I have all the provisions on board yet. Do I have a motor? A sail? I don't even know how to sail. I don't know where I'm going. All I can see is open sea.

While I was writing that last paragraph, having my good cry, the song Home Sweet Home by Carrie Underwood started playing. And these lyrics made me cry even harder:

Just take this song and you'll never feel left all alone.

Take me to your heart, feel me in your bones.

Just one more night and I'm coming off this long and winding road.

I'm on my way

I'm on my way

Home sweet home

I'm on my way

Just set me free

Home sweet home

The picture I got may seem backwards but it was of me sailing off in the sunset, on my way home. Wherever that might be. The long and winding road that I'm getting off is the familiar road. Now I'm taking a different path but it's the path home. Home to my true, sweet home.

Slackermom's Number 1 Blogging Rule: No whining!

Yesterday was a bad day. Plain and simple. My ex knows what buttons to push and I reacted pretty much how I've always reacted. I got hysterical. I fretted, worried, sobbed and yelled. I got my cellphone all wet with tears. Again. And now I'm really annoyed with myself. That said, I'm not spending one more second beating myself up about it. And I'm not going to whine.

The point of telling you that is this: Thank god I didn't write a blog post yesterday! It's bad enough that I was Twittering. (New rule: No Twittering while hysterical.) If I had blogged yesterday, I would have written a diatribe about my ex and his evil-doing ways. At best, I might have said some funny things. I'm sure I would have said things that a few of you can relate to. But really, it would have been whining. And who wants to read a whiny blog post? Not me.

Truth is, I was feeling sorry for myself. Poor me, I have a mean husband. So what. Everyone has problems - problems a lot worse than mine. I'm the one that stayed married to him all these years. I'm the one that put up with that crap and didn't respect myself enough to put a stop to it. I've been painting myself as a victim for way too long. The long-suffering wife who stays in a crap marriage "for the kids." Isn't she heroic? Nope. Not by a long shot.

Epiphany of the day: I felt safe as a victim. I didn't have to take any responsibility for my unhappiness. And therefore I didn't have to take any responsibility for making myself happy. I was just going through the motions of my life, waiting for something to happen to make me change course. I'm damn lucky that my wake up call was losing my job. I could have gotten cancer or been in a horrible accident or worse.

I spent hours at Border's Book Store today (that is one of my favorite things to do). I walked around picking up books, reading dust jackets and random pages. I ended up reading 10 Secrets for Success and Inner Peace by Wayne Dyer. I read the entire book standing in front of the Bargain Books table (it's a pretty quick read). If you've ever read books by Dr. Dyer, you know that he writes from a very spiritual point of view. You manifest the things you think and stuff like that. I'm not really religious and I'm still undecided about whether it's really possible manifest an open parking spot in downtown Chicago just by being one with the Universe. But this book really struck a chord with me. That's when I realized that I was attached to my victim identity. That I was acting like a victim and therefore bringing victimization on myself.* According to Dr. Dyer, I need to start behaving like I already have the life I want. I don't want to be a victim of physical and emotional abuse so I need to stop acting like one. I want to be a loving and loved member of my community. So now I need to start acting like I am. Hence my new Blogging Rule Number 1: No whining. No more acting like a victim. No more "poor me" crap. (At least not in writing).

*This is not to absolve my ex, in any way, of responsibility for his actions. He decided to be abusive and he owns that. I decided to allow it to continue and I own that.

The trick for me is finding balance. I can't expect myself to manifest rainbows and sunshine every day. The way things are now, I'm bouncy and happy one day and the next I'm a wretched lump of sadness and depression. Especially during this transition time in my life, I will experience a wide range of feelings. And all of them are ok - as long as I don't wallow in the negative or expect to much from the positive. I'll continue to write about the range of emotions but I'm going to try very hard not to whine when things are sucky.

Dealing with fear

Before you read this post, I want to say that I have been agonizing over how much to write here about my marriage and the reasons for my divorce. My ex is a private person and has always asked me not to talk about our relationship with anyone - family and close friends included. Although this blog is somewhat anonymous, it probably won't be in the near future. We're trying to make this an amicable divorce and I don't want to jeopardize that. I also don't want my kids to read this someday and be disappointed in me for being vindictive or disclosing too much.

But I've decided that, for me, healing requires complete honesty. Writing is my outlet. I'm not a private journal kind of person. For reasons I don't know, I need to write publicly. In order to successfully work through my current crisis, I need to write about my experiences in my marriage - good and bad. I will try to be fair and not use this space to vent my anger willy nilly. Everything I write is obviously from my point of view. If I've learned anything in my relationship it's that different people have different views of the exact same event or conversation. This is my truth and my truth only - his version of events will be much different and that's ok. I also need to say that in our 15 or so years together, we had some really, really good times. There were times when he was my best friend. He helped me in many ways. But he was also my worst enemy and hurt me deeply. Healing will require me to come to terms with those different sides of our relationship.

I'm hoping that by bringing my dark experiences into the light, I can rid myself of some demons. And maybe help other people get rid of their own demons in the process.

So, on to the post . . .

I've been reading lots of great stuff over at The Fluent Self which is this incredible blog written by Havi Brooks (who I wish I could meet in person because she seems like the coolest person to hang out with). Anyway, I was just reading this post about why some of us have a problem with the traditional advice that, to move past fear, you need to "face" it. I'm not sure what it means to "face your fear" because, ok, let's say I turn around to face my fear and say "Hello, fear." What do I do next? Do I push it down and run away? Do a roundhouse kick to its face? Do I plead with it? Use logic? Throw water on it and make it melt like the Wicked Witch? Facing it clearly isn't enough to move on and deal with it. You have to somehow make it go away or make your peace with it and move on in spite of it. That post got me thinking about my own fears, how I've dealt with them (or not) and how my ex often tried to "help" me deal with them.

One of the things Havi stresses is that we can't bully our fears and make them go away. She also stresses the need for loving compassion when we're trying to work past the things that keep us stuck in unhealthy patterns. This is the kind of advice I need. Mostly I try ignore my fears but sometimes I try to bully them, make fun of them and push past them. But none of that works for me. And the way my ex treated me often made things worse rather than better.

Throughout our relationship, my ex tried to get me to face certain of my fears. I think the goal was a good one - I have way too many fears that hold me back and I need to deal with that. Sometimes he was supportive but more often he was a bully. I called him Bobby Knight (the basketball coach known for his belligerence and violent outbursts both on the court and off). He took it as a compliment. After all, Knight got results - he has a great win/loss record. And lots of his former players would lay down their lives for the man because he provided the kind of tough love and motivation that those men needed at that point in their lives. But that doesn't mean there aren't plenty of former players and others out there that have been damaged by his behavior.

My ex would yell at me, call me names, tell me I was incompetent and later he would explain that did those things to help me improve. He said I better develop a thicker skin because he wasn't going to "coddle" me the way my parents did (at least in his eyes). This was the way he tried to get me to (among other things) exercise more, be a more effective parent, eat right, face my fear of dealing with certain childhood issues, and, my favorite, to get me to stop making so many "stupid" mistakes. Again, to be fair, there were many times when he was nice, gentle, kind, loving, logical and helpful - but he was a bully often enough that sometimes when I think about dealing with some of those issues (like right now), I feel pressure in my chest, I have trouble breathing and I just want to curl up and cry. I hear his words, the derision and anger in his voice. I see his face distorted by rage. I feel the fear. And it consumes me.

I tried and tried for years to be the kind of person that could be motivated by that kind of coaching. I believed, up until I started reading Havi's blog, that I was lazy, stupid and incompetent. That a smart person, a person who cared about her family, would have made the changes he requested. After all, shouldn't I set a good example for my daughters by exercising more and eating right? It's a reasonable request. Shouldn't I deal with my childhood issues by talking to my mother about events in our past? Sure - that conversation was long overdue by the time we had it. Shouldn't I improve my communication skills and my common sense so that I don't make stupid mistakes? Of course. But one of the big problems I've had in dealing with my own issues is that his behavior and the way he treated me became the focus of my energy. In a way, he did the opposite of what he wanted - he helped me avoid taking responsibility for dealing with my issues.

I realize now that what I really need - from myself more than from anyone else - is kindness and compassion. We all need to deal with our issues at our own pace, in our own time. And there may be some things that we never deal with. And that's ok. I need to respect myself and respect my fears. Each fear is there for a reason. It's my job now to figure out what those reasons are and decide what to do about them. Instead of treating fears like monsters to run away from, I'm going to try to treat them like my babies. I created them, says Havi, so I need to be nice to them. Every once in awhile, I'm going to sit still so that I can hear what they have been trying to say to me all this time. And I'm going to listen, for once.

And the ride continues . . .

My husband just declared: "You're on your own. Don't ask me for help on anything." Hmmm. Well that's all well and good. I wish I was on my own and didn't have to ask him for a thing. But, you see, we're still connected. We have two children. We own a home together (that he's living in while I'm on the road with one of said children). We share finances (and BY THE WAY, he's financing a new business with OUR home equity line of credit - doesn't that mean I'm helping him BIG TIME?). I'm not at home. I don't have all my stuff. By definition I need his help in some way, shape or form. But ok. I'll just deal.

This whole divorce thing SUCKS. I have to get a credit card in my name. Our two main credit cards are in his name. The two that are in my name - one we use for the kids' business expenses (don't ask) and the other is the business card for HIS business. The business that he's made very clear I will not share in.

We're trying hard not to sell our apartment because we don't want the kids to have to move from the home they love while dealing with the divorce. But when he gets mad at me, he threatens to make things ugly for everyone. Including the kids! How is that the right way to behave? He wants me to toe his line or it will be my fault for making things difficult. Such bullshit.

Ok, I'm sick of the divorce. I don't want to talk about it anymore.

I want to talk about writing. I signed up to join a writer's workshop type of site today. You have to be accepted into the group. Then you have to submit your writing but you also have to critique other writers work. I'm scared to death - there are lots of really good, published authors on this site. But I think being scared is good. At least in this context. I have to step out and take some risks. Right? Right.

Riding the rollercoaster of divorce

When you decide to get divorced, it's like getting on a roller coaster. There are lots of hills and valleys. There are times when you feel like the world is upside down and you're going to toss your cookies. You'll scream and cry that you just want to get off. But at some point, it slows down and you pull into the station. You're on solid ground and hopefully the world has stopped spinning.

Right now, I'm at the beginning of the ride. I've always hated roller coasters and this one is worse than the real ones. Yesterday was a straight drop down and by the time night rolled around, I thought I was going to crash right into the pavement. But this morning I climbed a hill and saw a beautiful view. I saw an amicable process where my soon to be ex and I were actually friendly to each other. And our kids weren't pulled in different directions. I really hope it wasn't a mirage. I'll try to keep that view in mind when I hit the next drop or loop . . .

When will I be closer to fine?

I'm trying to put up a good front. I've always been quite the pro at pretending everything is ok. But the facade is starting to slip. The tears show up unexpectedly. I'll be fine one second and the next I'll find myself feeling so tired I can barely keep my eyes open.

I never thought I'd be divorced. I never thought I'd lose my job. I'm totally unprepared for this uncertainty about the future. My psyche was fragile to begin with. I hope to god I'm strong enough to make it through whatever it is I need to get through. I have kids. I need to be strong for them.