Humanity

Do you still dream of escape?

I have been, lately. I think that suddenly doing the quarantine singly has thrown me back in time a little. I did this dreaming when the kids were little, when the marriage was sucking me dry and not giving me anything in return. I was thirsting for something, and my dreams of escape were daily and full of despair. I was just drowning, all the time, and the shore seemed like heaven.

I’m back to dreaming of escape. My only resource, really, is this house and the equity I will have in it when the kids are grown. So, it’ll be for sale. No home for the grandkids here. Which fills me with all sorts of sadness of the future grief sort. Not to mention the weight of an imagined future grief of the kids.

And its not the same kind of escape as before. Its not an escape because my life is horrendous. Its an escape because of circumstance, and change. And that’s an entire world, you dig?

I don’t know what will happen. I don’t envision finding a partner who wants to take on the financial burden of this place, even if I got the mortgage down to a reasonable rate. Hello, quarantine/reopeningbedamned makes it pretty unlikely i’m going to be making plans of any kind for a while. (good and bad here. patience is a lesson I am always learning.)

AND, I also want to allow that my kids will be fine, that they may not have kids, might not need me to have a net for them for the rest of their lives, as much as I want to spend the rest of my life providing one. Imagining the weight of future grief doesn’t seem like the best use of my life’s moments.

And so I am thinking about what I will do then, when the littlest heads off to college or whathaveyou. Will I buy an RV to live in for the remainder of my days? (nah, probably not)

The idea that I could go anywhere, try anything, be anywhere? Its pretty inspiring. and the reality is slightly scary. Presuming that I don’t have family besides siblings at that point, will I try to get closer to them? Will I head for natural beauty? Will I aim for the small town at the center of every picturesque whitey American novel? With the little community coffee shop bustling with gourmet treats and artistic flair?

Will I just buy a little house and try to stay healthy til I die? I mean, its all the rage to be middle-aged, right? But then comes older than that.

I think I need to widen my angle a little. Maybe I’ll have a real income earning job and I can host lots of ladies here, to rest and rejuvenate and chase chickens for their own betterment. I mean, I could do that too.

There are more possibilities than I know about. I have to keep that in mind, and keep my eyes open. Dreaming of escape without despair? Should be dreamy, right?

Right?

Divorce, Humanity

Pitchfork…

  • into this space please insert all the things i cannot and willnot leave behind for posterity about the many things i feel about the man who I divorced. let that be as powerful as saying I married him. why should i keep valuing one over the other?
  • i’ve got pizza sitting next to me that crisped up in the oven and i’m debating very seriously whether burning the roof of my mouth is worth it.
  • i’m planting things but have zero faith that i will ever get them into the ground because they are so spindly. and i am thrilled that the word ‘spindly’ is still around.
  • plus, how many carrots will my kids eat, realistically?
  • i wish i really drank, like on the regular, so that it was part of my life. isn’t that an absurd wish? now, when stressed or emotionally stretched out, i don’t have an easy fix… or if i do have a glass of wine, i have a headache before i even feel a buzz. so. that seems a miss. but i miss it, that brain shutdown, what we call the fall of ‘inhibitions’ but are really just normally healthy boundaries? i want to shed them more often and still manage to watch out for my kids, as a functioning fucked up adult. Does that make sense?
  •  I am worried that i’m not going to regain my proofreading clients when this is done, and that i’ll be back to a square i don’t want to be on.
  •  I am aware that if I were isolated like this and still married like I was, that I would be one of the people you should be worried about, the isolation and the misery combining to unsafe.
  •  The mental health of all of us in my house right now is becoming my ringadembells item, and i’m just as unhinged as they are, but am the grownup.  I am reminding them that all the feelings are okay and that they all will pass, with time, and that nobody has a ‘right’ way to be. its all i can do, that and feed them.
  • my kids have too much screen time. i’ll care later. i obviously care now, but see item previous item, and include ‘screentime guilt’ on the list of feelings that moms are allowed to have and to let pass.
  •  my eyes constantly fill with tears for and of these kids and these times… sometimes it is overwhelm, and disbelief, and sometimes it is laughter and those are the best times.
  • Pitchfork Unwifedmotherexpletive

 

Humanity

#hashtag (SO.MUCH.RANDOMNESS.)

Hmm. My cousin named her dog #hashtag.  She’s in marketing, and lovely, so she is allowed, and encouraged to do so.

🙂

I’m doing some different things this week, in anticipation of yet another long break from the kids as they go skiing with their dad.  i’m, yes, glad for them. and then. but, whatever.  #sparsebutcomplex

#economicchoices #financialstability #skiadventures #iammoreofalodgebunny anyhow.  I’m too low-class for skiing anyways. I get all whacked out by the money involved in going straight down a slippery hill.  but #realdeal?  Its the jealousy that I can’t do the big trips. But seriously, I AM getting over it.

We will go to the Cape this year, like we’ve done the past few years. And two or three nights will feel like a million dollars. it really will.  #sistersaredoingitforthemselves #nocreditcards!

#andtodayiwrote #forme #notwork .  #wewillseewhatcomesofthis … I’ve got a lovely children’s story in the works. I’d love to see it with illustrations some day. sigh. I’m such an old-school person, so much beauty and peace in a slower style.

Hazelwood photo Unwifedmotherexpletive
Photo by Suzy Hazelwood on Pexels.com

I make lists daily, to achieve any thing at all. everyday i have to put ‘chickens’ on the list or i leave those ladies right where they are which is not at all kind.

and lately, i’ve had to put READ .  because really, this work for yourself #hustle, plus the #stupidityofthephone has KILLED MY READING HABIT.  i mean, SHOCKINGLY. so now, i’m getting back into my own body and it is good.

and i’ve gone to the gym.  (godawful boring, but still. 80s music. so, okay.)

 

LOVE YOU. SORRY FOR THE RANDOM. #SORRYNOTSORRY

awww, love…

uwmf

 

 

Divorce, Humanity

the middle.

the kids are flying off to Florida tomorrow for a long weekend and a swim with some manatees.

the ex is dating, has broken up with the woman he was with immediately after leaving (foggy dates there, intentional) and it’s coming back around on me.

I don’t care. I do care. ego is involved. things are not equal. they won’t be. my kids are very lucky.

and I’m going to miss the kids a lot. its only one night more than regular that they’ll be gone from me, but the fact that they’ll be having all these first-time experiences without me is a little bit peaky. and airplanes.

and i’m having stress dreams about disrespect and the way i felt when i was married and the futile feeling that i had about my life all the time.

and i’m calling my friends and they are holding my hands, and my LM is being lovelier.

and man, there is this gift in all this… that i’m not there anymore, that he isn’t in my life anymore, that i can yell and be mad and not be constantly gaslit about my own worth and sanity.

that i forget. and remember. and yell in the empty kitchen, to myself,  ‘he is not in my life ANYMORE’. and the yelling feels right, and loosens my shoulders.

here i am.

sometimes i am mad. catch me at 9:30 at night when not one.single.kid. is making any progress towards sleep and i am a fucking harpy of doom.  totally.

and i don’t have to hear anymore about what an ‘angry person’ i am.  because i am so much more than a person who gets angry sometimes. and really, i always was.

i’m not there anymore. and the fairytale fell apart and the crying in the wedding dress is done. (i’m sure i’ll have some more moments, but.)

and i’ve got amazing kids with me all the time, and i’m allright man.  right here in the middle of all this, i’m still allright.

Breakfast Table Mess UnwifedMotherExpletive

Humanity

draft, freewrite? what-have-you at the car repair…

i’m at the car repair place fixing a recalled item. its going to be about two hours and I’ve got to make my own prompt for writing:  How do you access what the *Lionness* wants you to? (this is a reference to the archetype I’m embodying these days)

all my readings have been telling me to look at my joy, to just be in the JOY. and i’m like, yeah, gimme another blanket and let me settle down further into my bog.

I’ve stopped taking my antidepressant and I think it is good but am struggling a lot with how to support my system between 4 and bedtime. I have so little time with them, and then i’m a wreck.  it doesn’t seem like a fair deal .

boys here in what look like suits until you look down at their feet and see their shoe-style.

and distraction aside, I think that guided meditations are the way to go for me, and i’m still not doing that. I found, or my Lionness found, me that way. in my ability to sink into my own body and my own imaginative base, which I have, and how I have seemed to survive this past few decades. which is still an amazing thing to say. decades have passed.

what I mean, in my huddle, in my mess of blankets on the couch with my fears around me like infinity scarves gone wrong, is that I am moving, but not moving at the same time. in two ways.  my lists are getting crossed off, i’m handling things. i’m applying myself, i’m in the fall cleanup, and i’m not. i’m not any of that. and it happens during and around all of the same actions.

I get interrupted to be frightened by the car repair man that I need a timing belt replacement. I am here to fulfill a recall.  happily I remember that I have a new engine in there, ask me that fucking story. no, don’t.  so I don’t need no stinking timing belt. thank you very much.  nobody is getting any of my money today, and hopefully that includes the vending machine I am staring at, which has chips AND candy.  bastards.

what I mean, in my need to keep writing, to give myself some sort of structure in the day, is to give myself more of a foothold into understanding myself.  there is a lot that I get, dig? but this whole HERMIT thing?  its not making me feel like I can take care of my kids independently, and that’s a pretty damn big deal. I say.

and what I mean, really, is that I know I can take care of my kids, I know I can. I don’t even doubt it for a second. Don’t make me fuck you up.

but I worry about the money and the living on alimony/childsupport mix.  still and always. I am not good with dependence. Sunlight on Houseplants UnwifedMotherExpletive

which brings another fear in the LM category . (Loveliest Man) What if I do fall in deep love with him? like dependent love? wherein I need him?  Isn’t that the death knell ? isn’t it? why do people do these things? LM, be not afraid. also, don’t comment. I can’t handle it.

And herein lies the end of the freewrite.  Apologies? I don’t know. But here I am, trying to give myself a foothold that I am sure of… its always good to have one foot on the ground, yeah?

*(i’m learning a lot about archetypes lately, and for me, Lionness has shown up, and that sort of matches up with Queen archetype, and also Mother, and also Warrior, so there.)