I have the TV turned off, the lights out and a candle lit. Silence surrounds me. The only sound is my own breathing and the distant sound of the train rolling through town. When we first moved into this house I found an odd comfort in that sound. I noticed it most often late at night and many nights I fell asleep to it’s rhythm.
This house used to be my refuge. It’s not perfect and sometimes I want to gut it and start all over but it’s mine. At least it is for now. I don’t know where I’ll be in a year, five years or ten years. I always imagined I’d be right here hosting holiday dinners and family BBQ’s for my family, friends, children and someday grandchildren. I never dreamed I’d be facing the monumental changes I'm now facing.
I have days where I am full of hope and motivation. Days when I feel like I can conquer the world. Then there are other days. Days where hope is nonexistent and I can’t muster the energy and motivation to fold a load of laundry. Those are the rough days. The days I need someone to vent, cry and basically bitch too. Something I loathe doing.
I hate crying. It makes me feel weak and like I’m nothing more than an overgrown baby. I hate complaining to people because I know it could be worse and I also think some people might be sick of hearing me. I’M sick of hearing me.
There’s no rhyme or reason to the ebbs and flows of my moods. One morning I’ll wake up and feel ready to start a new day. Other mornings I want to stay buried under my comforter and sleep forever.
Logically I know this is normal for someone going through the life altering events I am. Had you asked me a year ago if I thought my marriage would ever end I’d have emphatically told you no. Hindsight is 20/20. I’m not going to lie and say it was all bad. It wasn’t. No matter what, I have six great kids and they make everything worth it.
But looking back I realize we jumped head first into marriage and parenthood without thinking about what that all really meant. If you recall, my oldest son was born before we got married. But we were in love. But it was puppy love. We never really gave it a chance to grow into the kind of love a marriage should be based on BEFORE you say "I do". I don’t think it would have either, had it not been for my pregnancy. I'm not saying I wasn't deeply in love with him at some point during our marriage. You can't spend nearly half of your life with someone and have six kids with them and not feel love.
But we are so different. We see the world through completely different eyes. I always thought we complimented each other. What I lacked, he provided. What he lacked, I provided. I didn’t know that he was harboring feelings of resentment and discontent. Maybe if he’d told me sooner it would have been different. I’m inclined to think not though. We truly do bring out the worst in each other.
Facing these truths while trying to piece together the shattered bits of my life at the same time is exhausting. And even when I escape to Deb’s or just out for a drive I can’t stop the thoughts and fears from running ram shod in my head. So bear with me folks. I may cry. I may whine. But I’ll come out on top in the end if it’s the last thing I do.