Sometimes I wonder

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have someone at my side who would dance in the rain with me and join me for magical moments like those swallow-tail gulls guiding our ship at 4:00 a.m.  To have someone who would seek out those opportunities too, adding to the joy we collectively embrace.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have someone rub my back and get my water and medicine when I wake up in the middle of the night coughing with an episode of acid reflux instead of having someone who pretended to continue to sleep as I did my best to stay quiet.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have someone who learned my favorite flower and which forks I preferred and how I wanted my clothes folded.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have someone who prioritized us as we made decisions together instead of only focusing what was best for them.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have someone who valued my opinions and experiences as much as they valued their own and lived by the belief that our combined opinions and experiences is what would help us make the best decisions.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have someone who steps up to solve problems instead of steps back to see what resolution I come up with.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have someone who consistently walks with me, not two steps back or two steps forward, and makes space for me when we walk through a crowd.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be with someone who chose me every day.

At times, I feel just a bit of bitterness that my ex benefited from all those things from me for two decades while I missed out.  It just doesn't seem fair.  But I get life isn't fair.  And I wouldn't undo any of the things I did because they speak more about me, my integrity, and my capacity to love than anything related to him or whether he deserved it.

But I will admit, it is really hard to imagine what it is like to be on the receiving end of those things because that is not something I have ever really experienced in my life.  

I realize now that my parents were so focused on raising me to be independent, they didn't teach me to ask for help or how important reciprocity is in a relationship.  I remember a conversation with my Dad at about sixteen where he told me that he had taught me everything he could and it was now my turn to live my life.  He stressed he would always be there as a fall back (and both my parents always have been) but he stayed in the background waiting for me to ask for something.  Neither of my parents have been the type to give unsolicited help or jump in and solve someone else's problems.  They wait in the ready.

After experiencing my mother-in-law, as an adult, I really appreciated that trait in my parents.  But maybe it started too early.  Maybe I missed out on learning how important it is to be on the receiving end of care in relationships.

I was a junior in high school.  I was color guard captain and we would rehearse on the football field one evening a week under the lights.  The show we were working on involved white wooden boxes some of us would stand on for a portion of one of the songs.  It was the first night we were rehearsing with them.  One was placed where I didn't expect it.  I don't know if it was in the wrong place or if my steps were off.

We were trained to keep our head up so my eyes weren't on the ground.  One of those wooden boxes caught me by surprise as I went running into it, tumbling to the ground.  I picked myself up and continued the practice.  It wasn't until the practice was over that I discovered the car key was no longer in my pocket.  And then I looked down to find my pant leg all bloody.

My mom was out of town with our only other car.  My first worry though was getting the car home.  I found a friend to drive me home to pick up an another set of keys and drive me back to get the car.  With the car back in the garage, I entered the house.  I still hadn't inspected my injury.

Knowing my Dad wouldn't be much help because he had as big a fear of blood as I did, I headed up stairs to face my injury alone.  Nothing was broken but the gash was huge and the leg swelled up quite a bit over the next days making me sit out of the next practices and making it hard to drive (as this was my right leg).  I still have a scar today.  I managed to clean it up myself and went to bed.

Going back even further, I used to feel proud of the memory I have as an early elementary age girl up on a chair at the counter every morning making my own lunch while my Dad made his.  But maybe there's a reason none of my friends made their own lunches.  They all had moms or dads who made a lunch for them and still did many other things for them.

Not that parents should do everything for their children but maybe there is a balance somewhere.  My ex-husband had never done laundry until I taught him that first weekend he came to see me instead of going home.  His Mom still did almost everything for him.  It probably didn't help us find a middle ground when we married as we were coming from two opposite ends of that spectrum, neither probably healthy ends.

Emotionally, it was the same scenario.  I had spent most of my childhood alone learning to self-soothe, self-regulate.  I had mostly dealt with bullies on my own, except in fifth grade when my teacher was actually enabling the bullies to harass me during class (I did get my parents involved that year).  I don't know if I ever learned a healthy co-regulation.

He had spent his childhood never learning to self-soothe, self-regulate, or manage his emotions as he dealt with a chaotic mother, a distant father, and I think some of his own problems with bullying both at home and at school.  He didn't have any healthy co-regulation skills either.

Maybe that is what attracted me to him - my ability to manage his life and emotions for him, two things he struggled with.  And I had no reason to believe I could expect anything from him as I had learned to do life on my own.  I had no reason to believe our dynamic was not healthy because I had not learned a healthy give and take.

Note, I don't fault my parents for any of this.  They are actually pretty great people who did a lot of right by me.  I am a kind, compassionate, strong, successful woman because of them.  And they have grown over the years to the point where we now have a more reciprocal relationship.  But maybe this helps explain this piece that I feel like I missed out on.  Maybe this helps me understand how I found myself in the marriage I did and why I stayed as long as I did.

A dream where time overlapped

I had a dream last night.  The dream started with me wondering what he had done with our large wedding photo that used to hang on our wall.  Then I saw myself in a room with the photo and I believe with him.  I was crying and angry as I pointed at the photo, I asked why he had made those vows if he had no intention of investing in our relationship or choosing me.  I asked why he had committed to a relationship he wasn't willing to put the effort into.

In this dream, the me of today was watching this as an outsider from a distance.  I could sense the desperation and despair in the version of me asking those questions but I didn't feel the pain myself today.  There was distance between the me of today and that version of me.  I woke up feeling detached from what I had seen.

I'm not sure if he was even truly present or if he was just an illusion.  I sensed him but I'm not sure I actually saw him and I never saw any sort of response or reaction from him.  I think the me of then believed he was there and the me of today believes the feeling of his presence was just an illusion.

This morning as I reflect on this dream, my mind is pulled many directions.  In some ways it feels like a flashback to those early days when I was desperate for answers as to how he could do this to me.  In other ways, his lack of any real presence in the dream makes me wonder if these questions were more directed at myself and why I made vows to him knowing he would never fully choose me.  And yet, the feeling of distance in it all makes me wonder if the answers really matter anymore.

It feels like the me of a year ago got to sit in a room with the me of today.  Imagine if this were a memory of future me sitting with the then present me to help her through last fall.  I don't know what to believe about the idea that time could overlap but I do know that I found an extraordinary amount of strength last year and it's comforting to imagine a future me guiding me through it all.  

My body says I'm struggling with something

I'm so tired even though I slept fairly well last night and took a nap this afternoon.  I've been ready to go to bed since about 6:00 p.m. but have been trying to hold off to not completely throw off my sleep schedule.

And I'm picking at my nails more than normal.

And there are dishes that are undone and have been piling up for a couple days.

And my fridge is empty.  I meant to go to the grocery store this afternoon but didn't.  

And I didn't make good food choices today - a bagel and coffee for breakfast and lunch was two beers, fried chicken and fries at a local brewery.  I haven't eaten since.  I'm not hungry.  I don't even remember if I ate dinner last night although I have this vague recollection of garlic stuffed olives and pickles but that isn't much of a meal.

I have seven blog post drafts (including this one) started from the last 48 hours or so - none of them very well thought out (except hopefully I will actually publish this one), just thoughts I want to reflect on.  

I have this memory of having this lightening bulb moment last night as I was starting to drift off with plans to write about it in the morning yet I can't remember what it was.  Usually I jot a quick note down because otherwise they keep me up until I do but I was already drifting at this point.

In my defense though, I did get out and join the church hike this morning.  It took some convincing as I sat at the kitchen table in my robe with my coffee but I did it!  We hiked about 3 miles over two hours.  I chatted with a couple friends.  

And sitting on the patio of the brewery in the sunshine was really positive, even if my food choices weren't.  Plus I spent an hour on the phone with my mom and sister planning our next ladies' trip.  

So it's not all a total loss.  But I know I'm not at my best.  I wonder what it is I'm struggling with.

Courage

Two years ago, I swam with sharks.  We were snorkeling in the Galapagos and our naturalist spotted a reef shark.  I kicked my fins a bit harder to propel myself closer and captured some video as I briefly followed it along a ridge and then noticed a couple more resting.

Maybe I've always been a bit courageous.

So much of what I have done over the last year and a half has taken so much courage that has clearly surprised so many people around me (aside from maybe my parents).  Interestingly, it has surprised me as well.  But maybe I shouldn't have been so surprised.

At some point after the separation, my Dad brought up the reminder of watching me head off to Spain to study for a semester in college.  I forget the word he used but I got the sense he was proud of my courage to travel across the ocean on my own when I was barely an adult.  I hadn't thought of it that way until he brought it up.  He said it in a context that made me think he had confidence I would do well building a new life on my own.

Sometimes it feels like I've become a whole new person but this reflection is a reminder that I've really just re-found the person I was all along and more fully embraced and learned to love her.

New Shoes

I bought new shoes this weekend.  They are mustard yellow.  The color makes me smile.  And when I put them on at the shoe store and did my usual dancing and jumping to test them out, they felt perfect.

But when I put them on this morning, they reminded me of the last new shoes my ex-husband bought when we were together. This was last summer when things were rocky.  We had gone to the mall to check out the selection of Toys ‘R Us toys that had been added to one of the department stores since the closing of that toy store, a toy store he had so many fond memories of as a child.

And we somehow ended up in a shoe store.  They were red and not his normal style.  As he put them on, I just watched him.  I didn’t want to influence his thoughts on them.  And then he smiled real big.

At this point, I didn’t have a lot of optimism that we would make it as a couple but I couldn’t hold back my joy at seeing the pleasure on his face over something as simple as a pair of shoes.

And although there is a small pang of sadness that he didn’t reciprocate by finding joy in the things that gave me pleasure, I mostly feel a fondness in this memory.  It is such an incredibly simple way to give love that feeds both people so much.

And so although I’m really raising the standard for what I will accept in close relationships and now expect reciprocity for those in my inner circle, I don’t think I will ever tire of letting joy bubble out when I get to see others’ joy regardless of where that person fits in my life.

A bit of a rough morning

I'm groggy this morning.  My alarm actually woke me up and I suspect it was while I was in a deeper sleep cycle.  I don't remember the last time an alarm woke me up.

Since moving out on my own, I've been able to develop a natural sleep schedule that fits me better.  I go to bed earlier so that I have extra time in the mornings to enjoy the quiet.  And one benefit of that is I wake up naturally, except for today.

Maybe yesterday took too much out of me.  It was the first day back with all my co-workers since the 43 day shutdown and it was a busy day as people continued relying on me for things I had done the last 43 days instead of turning to my colleagues who were now back without even an acknowledgment as if this is the new status quo.  I'm tired of being taken advantage of at work.

And my apartment feels cluttered.  There are still things to pick up from the weekend away that I didn't feel like doing on Tuesday when I got back and then didn't have time to do with other commitments Wednesday and Thursday nights.  This paragraph is almost weird to write as I've never typically been bothered by clutter.  

Maybe this weekend I can catch up and get back into my routine.  In the meantime, I have one more workday of the week to get through.

A reminder of who I am

One of today’s social media memories took my breath away and reminded me of who I am and who I have always been.  Even my ex-husband’s treatment of me didn’t take away this core of my essence - my ability and desire to seek out and soak in beauty and awe.  It is what sustains me.  It is where I find peace in even the most trying moments.  It is what makes my life so wonderful.  And it is the foundation I have built upon in this last year or so of immense transformation and growth.

From November 13, 2023

Early this morning (around 4:30 a.m.), the ship was really rocking and rolling and I couldn’t sleep anymore so I stepped outside onto my balcony.  Even with the navigation light at the front of the ship, my eyes were drawn to more stars than I had ever seen in my life.  Individual constellations were hard to make out, although being south of the equator, I'm not sure I would necessarily recognize them anyway.  The sight took my breath away.  

Then with the wind in my face, I focused forward into the pure blackness that we were cruising into.  I know with all the navigational tools that the Captain knew exactly where we were going but it felt like we were driving blind into the unknown.

A pair of what I believe were Swallow-tailed Gulls soared along side (I'll have to ask one of the naturalists later).  The clicking sound of their call was so distinct.  The way they soared and played in the darkness, the light reflecting white off them, was a bit mysterious and almost magical.

This trip so far has been full of moments, animals, landscapes, etc. that can be captured so well with my camera.  I am so delighted in the images I am getting.  But it is also filled with moments like these that can only be experienced and that leave an imprint on your soul.

I know I should be sleeping.  I have four excursions today.  But how can I sleep when I am surrounded by so much beauty and mystery, a place where I'm drawn to the stars, the sea, and the land?

And then I read my memory from last year on this day and although, I won’t quote the full post, there was an interesting parallel. It was a cold, windy, dark, rainy evening as I headed out to choir.  I only had a moment where I mumbled how miserable it was especially in the context of a very hard week (and year at that point).  And then I let the rain remind me of how much is beyond my control. That is when I noticed my bright pink rain jacket fit me nicely after the weight loss such that it even had room to keep my iPad dry.  And I wrote,

And then I let the rain pouring down on my face wash away all the anger, the disappointment, and the sadness.  And by the time I got to choir practice, I was ready to sing.

Interestingly, the walk home was dry. The moon started to peak out from behind the clouds. The city skyline was clear. There was a sense of peace within me.

A transition?

After a four day weekend with my mom and sister in Atlanta, it's time to get back to reality.  This may even be my last day or two of this shutdown with the Senate having passed a continuing resolution earlier this week and the House convening today.  Today is day 43.

Change - this last year and a half has been about a lot of change.  It comes in waves though.  I have time to  get used to something and then, circumstances change or my perspective changes or both.

This morning's time at my kitchen table feels like the quiet moment before another change.  My weekend in Atlanta has renewed my hopes of eventually securing a job there and it will be nice to have people back in the office regularly.  But right now, I feel this need to just center myself and sit here in this moment.  There is a sense of peace in not worrying about what is next as I just take in the calm of today.

Has there always been this quiet moment when a shift feels imminent but not quite here yet that I just rushed through?  I suppose some changes came more swiftly, with less warning than others.  Maybe the train ride to NYC last year is another great example of the quiet moment before a change.  I didn't rush that moment either.

The solution for a car parked too close brings me joy.

My car was plugged in at our hotel this weekend, the spots were pretty narrow and there were posts every few spots adding extra challenges.  When we walked out to the car on Sunday morning, the EV in the spot next to me was just inches from my drivers side.  The EV spot next to him had been ICE'd and that car had crossed over the line, leaving the EV an incredibly tight space, if it wanted to be able to charge.

I unplugged my car, assessed the space between the cars, and then got in on the passenger side and climbed over.  And then we headed out for our day of activities.  There was no harm done.

That image of the cars so close and me climbing over the center counsel stuck with me throughout the next days, bringing a smile to my face each time.  Do you know how much easier life is if you don't have to simultaneously manage someone else's emotions while you solve the problems that naturally come up?  How much easier it is to smile when you come up with a creative solution when you're not with someone who sees malintent everywhere and assumes the world is out to get us?

If we had still been together when this happened, he would have been outraged that someone had parked so close.  He would have inspected every inch of the car.  There would have been a lot of swearing.  I would have silently recognized the hypocrisy because if the roles were reversed, he would have done the exact same thing this car had done, leaving someone else in the exact same scenario we were in.

After I validated how horrible it was and tried to calm him down a bit, I would have climbed in the passenger seat and over the center counsel, just as I did on this occasion and I would have pulled the car out for him.  Then I would have had to listen to him complain about it for the rest of the trip.  And if I didn't vocally agree with him enough, he would have accused me of not being on his side.  It wouldn't have been enough for me to validate his initial complaints and solve the problem for him.  He wanted someone to join him in his misery and drama.

It reminds me a bit of the morning a week or two ago when I started the day stepping in a puddle from a leak under the sink that had spread across my kitchen and hall.

So it is just so refreshing to focus my energy on solving the problems that naturally come my way and then moving on.  Life is so much easier this way.  It's filled with so much more energy for joy.  It's peace.

The hypocrisy of accusing me of never being on his side

My sister shared with me that my ex-husband used to make digs at me, mocking me, joking about something I did he didn’t agree with, and then turn to her or her husband to see if they would laugh or react.  She remembers noticing it most when we hosted in our own home in Wisconsin.  My parents don’t recall hearing the comments but my sister thinks that is because he never made them in their presence.  She said I normally would just ignore it so she never knew if I really heard what he said, thus never knew how to bring it up to me.  The example my sister gave was me pouring myself another glass of wine.

He is a non-drinker and I know he didn’t generally like me drinking.  There were times he actually got me to question whether I had a drinking problem but then I would do a dry January or something where I easily cut out all alcohol for an extended period.  And when it all went downhill fast starting early last summer, I lost all interest in alcohol and cut it out for about four months.  So I don’t think it was me.  And even if it was, passive-aggressive comments mocking me in front of others wasn’t appropriate at all.

Hearing my sister share this with me hurt.  It adds to all the ways he tried to control me or intrude on pleasures I was enjoying.  And it shows me how hypocritical he was to so constantly accuse me of never being on his side when he so actively took a stance that was opposite me.

Halloween Costume

I don't know what prompted me to look at his Instagram account but I can't unsee that he dressed up as real life serial killer from Wisconsin, Ed Gein for Halloween.  That just seems really creepy and messed up to me.  It's one thing to lean into the fictional scary that is much of Halloween, but a real life serial killer?  What prompts someone to think that is an appropriate costume?  Or am I just so out of tune with Halloween?  I admit it never was my holiday.  It is really unsettling though.

Edited to add that after reading a little more about Ed Gein - it's even more disturbing now I that I have learned how obsessed Ed Gein was with his mom.  My ex's IG posted included this sentence, "The haircut was a big of a commitment, have gotten some funny looks lately, but mother approves" which seems an acknowledgment of the parallel.    

Oh how glad I am that I'm out of that relationship!

Intruding on life's simple pleasures

Clarity helps put the pieces together.  Things that made absolutely no sense last year as it was ending, now seem to fit into patterns I couldn't see before, even if I still don't understand the why.  And in some ways that is really freeing.  In other ways, it cuts deeper than ignorance ever could have.  

My optimism and rose colored glasses served me well in that they protected me and allowed me to find joy and peace in a situation where my very joy and peace were being constantly threatened.  And as much as I lost of myself in the marriage, the two things he never successfully took from me no matter how hard he tried were my peace and joy.  Maybe that's why he left - his misery never could compete with joy.

That's powerful isn't?  To be able to still hang onto joy and peace at some level even through a draining relationship.  And like I wrote in a blog post this morning, so many of my memories are those joyful or peaceful moments.  I recognize how much better off I am today (night and day difference) yet can acknowledge the good I found in the last two decades.

Therapy last night started with my talking about the moment of the shattered mug I wrote about earlier this week and in telling that story I made an off-hand comment about how he always complained about the mugs I brought home from our travels.  It was enough of a complaint to make me seriously think through the mugs I bought but not enough to make me stop buying them altogether.  

But why was he so against the mugs?  They were inexpensive and not a burden at all on our budget.  All my mugs put together don't even come close to adding up to the money we threw away on just one of his cars.  

We had the space for them and I always made sure our cabinets were organized in a way that fit his needs and preferences.  So it wasn't like they were in the way at all.

They were useful.  He even took a few in the divorce.  These mugs caused no harm to him.  He didn't actually gain anything positive by complaining.

As my conversation with my therapist continued on to more examples, I couldn't help but wonder if it was just one of many ways he was trying to take away from my joy in the simple pleasures of life.  

In the last year or two of our marriage, I really started to guard my Sunday morning coffee time.  I wanted time to sit at the counter top in our kitchen, sip a cup or two of coffee and read the Washington Post or scroll mindlessly.  That is when he decided he wanted us to clean on Sunday mornings.  There is no particular reason Sunday had to be our time to clean.  We were a couple without kids and no real social life living in an apartment - cleaning didn't take long and we had plenty of spare time.  

The more I held my own on this scared time to me, the more irritated he got.  If that was the time he wanted to clean, he could have done his part and left me mine to do later.  Or he could have chosen just about any other time throughout the week or weekend.  But he refused to do either.  He preferred to intrude on the joy I was finding in this simple routine I had developed, a routine that caused him no harm.

In hindsight, I suspect this was one of the ways I was finally trying to finally take some space for myself and he wouldn't accept that I needed space in the relationship too.

These are just but two examples of times he tried to interfere with my joy in a simple pleasure of life, things that caused no harm to him.

The pain is so sharp to realize he was trying to stop me from enjoying simple pleasures that had no consequences for him.  I spent two decades supporting all the little pleasures he enjoyed.  Even when there were consequences to me, I supported his pleasures.  It gave me joy myself to see him happy.  Yet he couldn't even let me enjoy a Sunday morning cup of coffee. 

Social Media Memories

Three and four years ago, we were cruising on the Celebrity Constellation, so my social media memories are filled with reminders of those two trips.

Four years ago, it was our first post-COVID cruise and the first post-COVID cruise for the Celebrity Constellation and all its crew.  This one was just my ex-husband and I.  We had upgraded to the Retreat and so had access to the suite amenities.  The enthusiasm of the crew to be back working again and the passengers to be back cruising again was infectious!  I remember tears of joy fell as I walked the gangplank to embark.

The Sommelier in Luminae was excited to open the first bottle of Cattier Champagne for me as we sat down to that first lunch.  He fashioned the champagne cap into a mini chair and left me that and the cork (to serve as a mini table) which I took home and have in my apartment still.

I look upon this cruise with nostalgia and although my ex-husband was physically present, my memories are of me and my experience.  I felt a sense of peace and freedom when I cruised, something I had really missed during COVID.  

Interestingly, my chronic pain would usually disappear on cruises and I always attributed it to the food and the fact that once you tell the staff of a dietary restriction, they don't let you cheat.  But I think my stress levels were also so much lower.  Maybe the monotony of his daily misery temporarily was paused or pushed to the back burner.  And I didn't have to manage the day-to-day of life for both of us.

Three years ago was our splurge cruise.  Prices were still low from COVID and so we snagged one of the two penthouses at a rate we could afford.  And then he convinced me we should also invite his mom.  So the three of us took this cruise.  The cabin itself was larger than our apartment with a dining room, living room, foyer, butler's pantry, bedroom, and two bathrooms.  The balcony was as large as our apartment and spanned half the back of the ship and wrapped around the corner.  His mom had the adjoining suite.  

In my memories, that trip feels like two trips in one, trips that were drastically contrasting to one another and yet all happening in the same space.  One part of that trip was marked by tension with his mom who was filled with criticism and negativity in all of our interactions (which fed into my ex-husband's negativity) and who on more than one occasion interfered with something I wanted to do.  And then the other part of the trip was one filled with solitude and peace.

One evening, I made reservations for them to go try a specialty restaurant I wasn't as interested in (an experience I knew would take hours) so that I could go eat in the suite dining room by myself.  I remember the wait staff expressing sadness that I was alone until I assured them I was quite content to dine by myself and then they gave me such incredible attention throughout the whole meal.  I finished the evening by finding a drink and some live music to enjoy.

I also discovered the balcony was a huge advantage because his mom hated the heat and humidity and even in November it was too hot for her.  So I had over a thousand square feet of the best view on the ship with lounge chairs, a dining table, and a hot tub all to myself!  I practically lived on that balcony that trip.  He and his mom mostly watched TV in the living room of our suite.

So I look on these social media memories mostly with a smile on my face.  Even the formal photos where his smile is brighter in the photo with his mom than it is in the photo with me, don't really trigger me.  They remind me of the ways I found peace and joy even in the middle of what I now realize was a pretty miserable marriage.  These memories are also evidence that the magic was always within me and really had nothing to do with him.  And because it has always been within me, I get to take it with me into this next chapter.  That's one thing I don't have to grieve.

Breathing in life's simple pleasures

Not quite ready to face the pain that surfaced in tonight's therapy session, I connected my phone to my bluetooth speaker, turned on a solo piano music playlist, poured myself a glass of my favorite rum, and sat down in my oversized chair with my notebook for a writing exercise that served as the mediation I needed tonight.

amber colored liquor

a fruity aroma

my fingers feel the shape of the glass

a rallentando

gently slows the pace

the fall after a rise of the melody

an even texture

caresses my skin

I sinker deeper into the chair

a slight chill 

wraps around me

the rich liquid I sip burns my nose and throat

a sweetness lingers

on my steady breath

the song accelerates with a moment of aggression

my pencil scratches

my mind quiets

seeking words only for this moment

I close my eyes

and savor another sip

finding simple pleasure in this evening

A shattered mug brings a sense of peace?

Yesterday morning, I dropped a ceramic mug filled with cold brew coffee.  It shattered.  Coffee splattered all over my kitchen and clothes.  I had a moment of irritation but then I grabbed an old towel and dragged the garbage can closer, cleaned it up, changed clothes, and made myself another cup of coffee.  As I sat down to breakfast, I realized this cleared space in an otherwise full cabinet for a new mug so I ran through my head the cities and countries I would be visiting in a few weeks.  All my mugs are from places I have visited - each a memory of a different trip.

Since that shattered mug yesterday morning, I've felt a sense of peace and calm that had been missing in the last week or so.

I don't know if it is just coincidence of timing or if the quiet act of cleaning up the pieces to make room for something new flipped a switch in my brain.  Regardless, it's nice symbolism for the work I've been doing. 

Day 35

Day 35 of the government shutdown - today we match the number of days of the previous longest shutdown.  And I'm not optimistic it will end today so tomorrow we will forge into a new record, although I'm not sure this is exactly the kind of record to be proud of.

The last one seems so long ago.  It was only seven years ago but I feel like I have lived several lifetimes since then.  And I don't even really remember the person I was then.  

I remember the days going so slowly as I made that commute into work every single day to a mostly empty office.  I got pulled into a disastrous project for another division that was just mindlessly monitoring processes on multiple computers that ran 24/7 for several weeks.  I remember my colleagues just occasionally popping in to take care of the few excepted matters our division handled.  They had stories of their house projects, day trips, etc.  One or two really struggled financially but most were just enjoying free time off.

I remember leaving the house each morning to my now ex-husband sitting in his easy chair with his feet up.  He got the entire 35 days off, wasn't even allowed to log into his work computer that entire time.

There are so many time periods in my marriage (this being one of them) where I have no recollection of the feelings, tone, vibe, atmosphere, etc.  I can objectively remember what was going on but I couldn't tell you if this was a good, bad, or neutral time in our marriage.  I don't know if I was just existing or if I have suppressed memories.

Then a couple days after the government reopened, I experienced my first southern snow day.  I have more vivid memories of that snow day than I do of the entire shutdown, although I can’t picture him in my memories of that day but he had to have been by my side, we were always together and it was a snow day for him too.  The courts made the call to close before noon the day before in anticipation.  I admit I shook my head when they made that call because the temperatures in that moment were almost 70*F so I thought it very unlikely temperatures would drop enough overnight to create snow or even ice.  The day turned out to be a clear, sunny day in the 50s.  And while everyone else had just had over a month off, this was a much needed day off for me!

So where was I going with these wandering reminders of a similar time years ago? I don’t know.  I think as this drags on without an end in sight, I feel stuck in limbo.  Someone today referenced the twilight zone.  I have the confidence, resilience, and underlying joy this time to navigate these uncertain times with more intention and grace.  But I also feel the loss of human connection to be working in such an empty office and going home to an empty apartment.  And I feel frustrated to have a potential move to Atlanta completely put on hold.

Furthermore, as my mind reflects back to the previous shutdown, I’m surprised by the lack of emotion in my memories from that time.  It leaves me wondering what I truly did experience in the marriage.

I'm tired of his voice in my head.

Sometimes I wonder how long it will take to get his voice out of my head.  I was pushing my full grocery cart down the sidewalk on this beautiful sunny day and something he said last year as we were dividing up our lives echoed in my head.  In disbelief, he stated, "You aren't going to shop at Aldi?  You are going to spend so much more money going to Publix."

I haven't been back to Aldi since the separation.  First, my goal is to live a walkable more sustainable life.  I rarely drive anywhere and there isn't an Aldi within walking distance.  Second, they never had everything I wanted and so it usually required a trip to a second grocery store which I always hated.

The third reason is petty - he and his mom used to obsess and rave about Aldi like it was the greatest gift God gave to this Earth and I just can't un-hear their voices.  So for the past 13 months, I have been walking the mile with the cart I love to do almost all of my grocery shopping.

And what I have discovered since the separation is that I eat so much less than he does.  So I'm saving so much money just by not having to feed him!  Even with my fairly expensive coffee subscription and buying wine from time to time (he doesn't drink), I still have come out so far ahead!

And did you know Publix gives you flowers on the anniversary of joining their loyalty program which coincidentally for me, is late October - I remember the smile they put on my face after the divorce was final last October.  And they give you a cake on your birthday and half off a cake on your half-birthday.  That's more cakes and flowers Publix has gifted me in the last year or so than my ex-husband did throughout our entire marriage!

But back to the point, I think I'm especially irritated to be reminded of things he said like this because they always remind of how little he knew me even at the end.  He never bothered to learn who I was because he was too busy trying to push me into the image he had created in his mind of what he wanted me to be.

Am I exaggerating?

When I see people's very negative reactions to my description of a specific incident in my marriage or when I get asked was he a narcissist or when people comment that he must have been a "jerk" or a "dickhead", my first reaction is to question whether I exaggerated the incident.  Even today, after over a year of distance and processing, after seeing through his manipulations, I still believe he wasn't that bad.

And so there is this internal battle trying to figure out where perception meets reality that maybe still gives him some benefit of doubt.  How much is my mind hallucinating to try and make sense of something that doesn't make a lot of sense to me?  How much has he gaslit me into his re-written version of our relationship?  It doesn't help that although I have now realized how much happier I can be without him, I wasn't unhappy in the marriage.  You would think if it truly was bad, I would have been miserable or at least unhappy.

I try to ground myself in contemporaneous writings I've found in journals, e-mails, letters, calendars, etc. but that is still my perception and it's hard to understand how big the gap might have been between perception and reality in those moments I made those notes.  I also try to ground myself in the concrete consequences to my physical health and how it has improved over the last year, something that has been quite dramatic, but can I truly pinpoint that to a specific cause?  Correlation doesn't necessarily mean causation.

I hate the self-doubt.  I hate the struggle trying to figure out where I fall on the spectrum of how much I might have normalized some horrible behaviors vs how much I might be exaggerating how bad it was.

With Clarity comes Relief and Anger

A year ago, his behavior didn't make any sense to me.  My unconditional positive regard searched for excuses that would help me hang on to the image I had created of him in my head, that he was a good man.  It was an image created from the highs of our relationship, from what I now understand was a performance, from the way I tend to focus more on the positive than the negative.

When the end came, that performance permanently disappeared.  There was no need for him to cycle back to the highs to keep me because he no longer had a use for me.  What I was left with was a man stripped of all his masks and costumes.  Yet, I still waited for that next performance so I was confused.  

I even ended that text exchange with him about a year ago with "I don’t even know why I tried once more. I guess I keep hoping I wasn’t so wrong about you and a glimpse of the man I once thought you were would come through."  I was still trying to hold on to the man I had imagined him to be.  I didn't yet quite understand that image was just a performance.

At that time, I wasn't even willing to entertain the idea that he was intentionally or knowingly hurting me.  That would have been too big of a leap from the image I had of him, a contradiction my brain couldn't manage.

Since last year, I have gained so much clarity.  As the unconditional positive regard dissipated (very slowly!), I started to see patterns.  The extreme highs that followed the lows.  The way he ignored my simple requests.  The lack of consideration.  The one-sidedness of the relationship.  The way he blamed me for things that weren't my fault.  The love bombing as his only attempt at repairing after an argument, arguments that he always turned around on me to make it all about him.  The slow erasure.  The gaslighting.  The subtle comments he made to get me to change.  The projection.

With that clarity, his behavior in the end actually fits.  It's who he was all along.  He just masked it to varying degrees over the years to convince me to stay.

There is both relief and anger in that realization.  It is such a relief to clear out the confusion, to give my brain a rest, the fill in enough of the puzzle to start to see the image.

But I am so angry.  I'm angry at him for the deception, the manipulation, the lies, and the energy and joy he stole from me with no intention of pouring it back into me.  But maybe even more so I'm angry at myself for falling for it, for tolerating it for so long, for believing in someone who wasn't willing to deserve it, and for not listening to my doubts that went back all the way to our dating period.

This is why I'm struggling with intention right now.  I acknowledge the end result is the same.  It really shouldn't matter whether he intended to hurt me or not.  But right now it does matter to me because it has made me doubt myself and my judgment.  It has created a stumbling block where I struggle to extend grace to myself.   It has turned chaos and confusion into self-doubt.  A self-betrayal feels even worse than being betrayed by the man I was married to for 19 years.

Reaching for my missing wedding ring

Last Monday, I locked the door to my apartment and headed down the hall on my way to work and had a moment of panic that I had forgotten to put on my ring.  I actually stopped and was ready to turn around when I felt my hand and realized the ring I was looking for was my wedding ring, a ring I had taken off for the last time more than 13 months ago.

I repeated that feeling on Wednesday morning although with not quite the same level of panic.  It had been so many months since I had felt for my missing ring so it really felt off that I was suddenly looking for it again.

I'm not sure what specifically triggered it.  There has been a lot on my mind lately.  But maybe it was the social media memory from last Sunday of my visit to the labyrinth and all that I was going through a year ago.  I've written about this labyrinth before, including as recently as this past Tuesday.

A year ago last Sunday, I walked the labyrinth to prepare myself for one of the last meetings I would have with my ex-husband.  With the divorce final, we sat across from each other at a conference room in the main building of our apartment complex, each with our computers and me with a favorite mug full of water.  That mug was a safety blanket for me - something to hold on to and distract myself with through the discomfort of that meeting.

That day we did a final accounting of our joint accounts, divided the money, signed off on joint assets and debts awarded to the other, and made a list of the last few things we needed to do.  He had an agenda for that meeting, all typed out and printed, so I let him lead.  But I remember having to chime in quite a few times about things he had forgotten or didn't understand - his agenda was far from complete.  

He typed up almost every word that was said in an e-mail that he then sent me as if he needed a clear record of the meeting.  I swear he spent more time typing than talking.  I remember calmly sitting there, patiently waiting.

He proactively got on the defensive multiple times as if he thought I would try to cheat him out of something or take advantage of him.  But each time he realized I was being fair, he backed off.

He was so cold and calculated.  A stranger was sitting across from me that day.  If the man I saw that day had shown up on the first day we met, there would have been no first date.

I tried once more to get some closure with a casual statement about how fast the end had come and asked him if he felt the same.  He said no and went back to his list.

The lack of empathy from someone who not that long ago had claimed to love me.  The lack of closure even after all my attempts to communicate what I needed to make this end easier on me.  The overnight transition from best friend to stranger.  The identity crisis as I didn't know even what name I was let alone what food I liked to eat or what hotel room I would prefer.  It was all a lot and so much of it still feels unresolved.  My body seems to remember these unresolved moments each time we hit the year mark.  

This one, in particular, hits home with my struggle this week on his intentions.  Maybe the reach for my wedding ring was my body's way of reminding me what I still need to process.