One Day Soon

One day soon, I will move out. I get a nervous pit in my stomach when I think about this day. While at the same time, I feel a sense of inexplicable relief and hope about this day. It's a very hard space to occupy, knowing the eventual pleasure and renewal that an act will bring only once the initial sting finally fades.

I know that I must move out. I know that our marriage is over. I know that I am the catalyst for that so I suppose I shouldn't be surprised or hurt by any of the subsequent steps on that path. But ... each step hurts. There's certainly no sense in denying that. I feel like I have to be strong every minute of every day, that I have to brave my way through it but it's a challenge. It's tiring, feeling like I have to push through. Sometimes, I feel like I have to push through so that he doesn't completely fall apart. I don't like the confusion of emotions and elements that are present all at once. But at the same time I can't burden myself with the worry of holding him up as I hold myself up through the process, and as I try to finally relieve myself of that very same burden: I've tried so long to hold him up, to support and bolster and encourage and lift up this person for so long to no avail that I've grown weary and jaded by my lack of success. There comes a point when you simply can't try anymore. To do so would be insanity; to do so would be crazy-making. Even Einstein said so, in so many words. It's not giving up; instead it's allowing yourself the comfort and relief of NOT being totally insane with the round and round of it all.

And yet the steps on the way to Not Crazy and Trying For Something Better are really really hard and trecherous steps - especially when you are directly influencing the feelings of another person - that require a large amount of forethought and balance, maneuvering and out maneuvering (though I do not think of myself as a manipulator, it feels like there has to be a certain measure of preplanning and exact choice of words and timing in order to make my way through this journey minimally scathed).

I find myself shadowed by the constant and tiring work of hiding true natures to save face. I find myself trying to keep up appearances and make sure no one thinks anything TOO bad about him as I still move forward with my choice. I'm sure there is a camp of people who already think ill of me and now even worse of me for my decision to divorce. Over that I have no control and cannot concern myself. I almost care more about what people think of HIM than I do about my own reputation; is that normal or just another part of the crazy-making?

Though it's still strange thinking there are those people out there and they may never know all the whys or understand all the nuances of my choice. I feel like that is just one of the many things I have to try to let go of along my way to self-fulfillment and happiness that doesn't depend on the outside. A good friend of mine mentioned Locus of Control to me several months ago which was very pertinent. My locus is very much internal. My life is in my own hands. My poor choices directly affect my life and I have the power to make my life better. I feel like life would be very sad and alienating if I didn't think that way. To have an external locus seems so scary, like a free fall. To me, that's no way to live. It's just hard interacting with people who are external; your every action, every word, every perceived rejection is a crippling blow. Like I said, I'm not a manipulative person, but I feel like every step is over delicate egg shells that, with every crack, complicate everything tenfold and with every rushed step or misstep, wound feelings to the quick.

Divorce is hard enough without worrying about personality and mental differences, bruised egos and hearts. What else is there to do than try really hard to be true to ones' self? Right now I feel that, in the end, that's all we have. I've got to reclaim that at least. And I've been going with my gut all year. No one said it wouldn't hurt; no one said it wouldn't suck a whole lot. It's not pretty, it's not neat, it's not cut and try. But I keep moving on ... and eventually moving out to accept what my life has in store.