The beginning of the end...

I'm 42 years old.  I met my husband while I was in college in the midwest and was married shortly after earning my  bachelor's degree.  We had dated almost three years (living together for almost two years of that) before we married.  We have lived in three states, been through numerous job changes, bought and sold each a condo and a house at various stages of our life, and now live in an urban city in the south.  We have been married for 19 years.

Today there was a charge on one of our credit cards for $100 to a local family law firm so I think this is really it.  I figured this is as good a time as any to start a blog about my journey as a way to process this life changing event and document what I hope is ultimately a positive reinvention of myself even if that seems a far off goal at this moment.

I supposed I should give a little background of how I got here.  But note, I don't want to use this forum as a way to bash my husband.  I want this to be about me, not him.  This is now my journey.

My husband traveled for work a lot this first half of the year, more than normal.  When he came home from one of those trips in May, he indicated he was questioning our relationship.  Over the next two months, it was like riding a roller coaster as we hit rock bottom and talked about divorce and then bounced back and had some really fun moments together.  Even with all the hope I was fed at times (and maybe imagined myself) throughout those two months, I just felt he had one foot out the door and was looking for an exit.  So the night before he left for a trip to see family, I finally pushed him to make a choice - either get back in this relationship and actually try to make it work or leave.  He chose to leave.  So I dropped him off at the airport very early that next morning after a night of no sleep with a pit in my stomach.

I still love him so much.  What I didn't expect in those first days of essentially no contact was how much I would miss the every day moments, the sharing of the good and bad, the good mornings and good nights.  He was my best friend.  He made me smile and laugh.  He lived life with me.  We had dreamed together, made so many plans together.  I had accepted who he was, flaws and all, and found fulfillment in our marriage, even if it wasn't perfect.

I understand that he had built up resentment going back many years and had not been happy for quite a while.  We had tried couples counseling about seven years ago which I thought was successful enough to move across country with him in 2018.  Reflecting back, I realize all the work on our relationship was done by me.  So of course it was going to eventually crumble - interactions between couples are two sided.  One person changing their half of the unhealthy dynamic may help limp the relationship forward but it doesn't actually solve the problem unless the other does the same.  

To this day, he still doesn't seem to recognize his role in our dynamics or in the breakdown of our relationship.  I hope knowing that fact makes it easier to eventually accept and heal.  Because although my heart doesn't understand it yet, his lack of self-reflection would doom our relationship eventually - if not today, someday in the future.  And maybe someday I'll realize I'm better off without him.

So here I am, sitting at my kitchen table (a beautiful table my dad built), trying to figure out what to do next.  These first four days of him being out of town were mostly about just putting one foot in front of the other.  I did manage to join a yoga class last night in the courtyard of my apartment building that was so needed.  And I've reached out to some really supportive friends and family.  I've also cried more tears than I thought were in me and still found a few moments to laugh with others.  And I put in a request to join a divorce group for women over 40 on Facebook (a request I see was just granted).  I think all that is pretty darn impressive for my first four days.  Someone said in the comments of Carolyn Hax's Friday chat today on The Washington Post's website, shared that her mother always said, "Inch by Inch, Life's a Cinch, but Yard by Yard, Life is Hard."

So what's next?  My husband returns 11 days from today.  I refuse to be kicked out of my own apartment before I'm ready so we will need to find a way to co-exist for a time being.  So here are my goals for the next 11 days:

1. Move my stuff and create a sanctuary for me in our second bedroom.  I want to take the time to make this a place I can feel is home, for now.  I'll move the TV out and anything else of his and move in some things that are important to me.  I'm choosing the second bedroom over expecting him to move out of our marital bedroom because I prefer the bathroom that is attached to this bedroom and making my own space might be better than trying to live in "our" space.
2. Focus on my self-care.  How can I be more active?  How can I make sure I'm eating healthy (or eating at all)?  What can I do to better manage my chronic pain?  What things can I do that would make me feel confident, lovable, and authentic?  How do I lean on (and maybe even expand) my social network?  How can I tap into my inner strength? And maybe most importantly, how can I sit in my grief and face and attend to that raw emotion?

I also know that I need to be gathering financial documents, deciding on whether or not to change my name back, finding an apartment, etc.  But I'm not going to put such a strict timeline on all that.  I'm going to take all that at my own pace.  Goals one and two above are by far more important for the immediate days.

Let me end this post with a little bit about how all this has affected me over the last two months.  Although normally a good sleeper, my sleep has been severely challenged.  Last night was not a good night.  But the two nights before I partially made up for the no sleep Monday night.  I feel like with each hitting rock bottom, I struggle for some time and then start to get into a better rhythm with some better nights.  

My appetite is gone.  If I don't intentionally remind myself to eat, I don't.  Today was one of those days.  I should probably find something more substantial to eat this evening.  Surprisingly, my interest in alcohol is also completely gone.  I don't think I've had a drink since sometime in May.  Between those two things, I'm losing weight.  I didn't weigh myself right in the beginning but since mid-March, I'm down 12.5 pounds.

I've started to experience hot flashes at night, mostly on the restless, most stressful nights.  The dynamic between feet that are so so cold and a torso that is drenched in sweat is not pleasant.  I had started to notice some slight variations in my period before all this started so I'm not surprised to see more signs of what is probably perimenopause.  I'm sure the stress is probably exasperating it.  

I have experienced chronic back, hip, and pelvic pain for the last 15+ years.  Stress is one of the biggest triggers of that pain and so I've been in more pain than usual.  I'm also dealing with some foot pain that won't go away so honestly, it feels like my whole body is falling apart.  It's amazing what stress does to your body.

Well, that's enough for my first post.  Assuming it isn't raining outside (or maybe even if it is), I think I'm going to go for a short walk and then maybe read a book I had started.