{expletive deleted}

The D word has been spoken.

2015-10-22T05:02:00.001-07:00

We've agreed to get a divorce. There's really no point to our marriage as it stands right now, and that's not going to change. We'll wait till we sell the house, just to keep things less complicated, but there we are.

Oh, and he won't help me with a damn thing to get the house ready for the market, so that's fun. I recently filled a 30 cu yd dumpster. Just me and the kids. We had it for two weeks. How much did he contribute? Bupkis.

And that actually very neatly sums up our marriage.

Let Go....

2015-01-25T05:58:00.000-08:00

Image source

When I Don't Walk On Eggshells

2014-08-15T13:58:00.001-07:00

John said he wanted to come with us on vacation.

I wasn't sure how I felt about it, given the fact that we've been separated for the last few months, but didn't feel it was my place to refuse, since he was paying for half of it.

So he came along. We drove down separately, but slept in the same (King-sized) bed because there was really no other way around it given the number and combination of kids we had with us.

We arrived on Sunday afternoon. On Tuesday, I got ready to go to the grocery store.

He never offered to go with me or go instead of me.

Whatever.

When I got back, I started putting the groceries away, while he sat 10 feet away from me in a recliner reading a book. Then I thought to myself, wait, this is MY vacation too. I just spent my time shopping, now I should get to relax while he does a little work.

So I said to him (nicely, not a smidge of attitude, I promise), "How about if you put the groceries away since I did the shopping. Fair enough?"

He got up and walked towards the kitchen, as I held my breath, wondering how he would take this request since I had chosen to just say it straight without sugar-coating or ego-stroking.

And then he started. Voice raised: "Why should I have to put them away? You act like I have no contribution here. I PAID for the groceries, that's MY contribution!"

I looked at him for a moment with a half smile on my face, hoping that perhaps he was joking and he would break the act and we would both join in a laugh together.

Waiting...

Waiting....

Smile fading....

"Are you serious...?"

"Yes. I'm tired of you implying that I don't help!"

"But... I just asked you.... to help put the groceries away. I wasn't implying anything."

"Oh yes you were."

It went on for a bit longer, of course.

He left the next morning. Four days early, out of a week.

So nice of him to come along to sped some quality time with the kids.

It's my fault, of course.

It's what I get for not thinking how best to phrase things before asking for help.

Emotional Abuse

2014-07-29T05:14:00.001-07:00

Just found this article on emotional abuse.

Outstanding.

Especially the bit on rights in a relationship:

Basic Rights in a Relationship

If you have been involved in emotionally abusive relationships, you may not have a clear idea of what a healthy relationship is like. Evans (1992) suggests the following as basic rights in a relationship for you and your partner:

The right to good will from the other.
The right to emotional support.
The right to be heard by the other and to be responded to with courtesy.
The right to have your own view, even if your partner has a different view.
The right to have your feelings and experience acknowledged as real.
The right to receive a sincere apology for any jokes you may find offensive.
The right to clear and informative answers to questions that concern what is legitimately your business.
The right to live free from accusation and blame.
The right to live free from criticism and judgment.
The right to have your work and your interests spoken of with respect.
The right to encouragement.
The right to live free from emotional and physical threat.
The right to live free from angry outbursts and rage.
The right to be called by no name that devalues you.
The right to be respectfully asked rather than ordered.

I feel blessed to have found so many good sources of support lately! Only wish I had known about them earlier.

The Fortress

2014-07-28T18:31:00.001-07:00

I speak these words.
I know my heart.

He takes these words,
He shapes them into something new.
He lays them
One by one
Bound together with
Fear for cement.

He builds a wall,
Higher and
Higher and
Higher
Leaving only a space
So he can peer out,
Keeping watch.

He glares at me and says,

Look what you have built.

Letting Go

2014-07-25T07:52:00.000-07:00

Last night I moseyed on over to a forum for support for people dealing with depression, either for themselves or a loved one.

I wrote up a little introduction, and asked for advice because I am forever questioning myself as to whether I am acting out of strength or out of weakness with this separation. A kind soul replied, and sent me to read a piece called Letting Go Takes Love.

And it helps.

It really, really helps....

LETTING GO TAKES LOVE

To let go does not mean to stop caring,
   it means I can't do it for someone else.

To let go is not to cut myself off,
   it's the realization I can't control another.

To let go is not to enable,
   but allow learning from natural consequences.

To let go is to admit powerlessness, which means
   the outcome is not in my hands.

To let go is not to try to change or blame another,
   it's to make the most of myself.

To let go is not to care for,
   but to care about.

To let go is not to fix,
   but to be supportive.

To let go is not to judge,
   but to allow another to be a human being.

To let go is not to be in the middle arranging all the outcomes,
   but to allow others to affect their destinies.

To let go is not to be protective,
   it's to permit another to face reality.

To let go is not to deny,
   but to accept.

To let go is not to nag, scold or argue,
   but instead to search out my own shortcomings and correct them.

To let go is not to adjust everything to my desires,
   but to take each day as it comes and cherish myself in it.

To let go is not to criticize or regulate anybody,
   but to try to become what I dream I can be.

To let go is not to regret the past,
   but to grow and live for the future.

To let go is to fear less and love more
and

To let go and to let God, is to find peace !

Remember: The time to love is short

------ author unknown

Sharing is Healing

2014-07-08T04:59:00.000-07:00

A few years ago I was lonelier than I've ever been. Very unhappy. My husband was beginning to pull away. Or at least, that's when I started taking notice of him pulling away. Back then, I felt like if I talked to others about how I was feeling, I was betraying him. So I kept it all bottled up inside like a good Stepford Wife. All the loneliness, sadness, disappointment, anger.

I cried a lot.

Strangely enough, now that things have gone from bad to worse between my husband and I, and we are separated, I feel better than ever. I'm not crying. I feel strong. I feel well.

I credit this new strength to the power of sharing.

I started with my sisters, who are my best friends. I began opening up to them about what I was going through. Cautiously at first, always justifying and reminding them of all of John's good qualities. But after time I grew bolder and stopped sugarcoating. Called him a bastard once in a while.

It felt good.

Soon enough I started opening up with friends. An aunt.

Then along came a therapist.

Before you could say asshat, I had a large network of women counseling, advising, listening, commiserating, hugging.

I began to feel whole again. I began to feel worthy, and valuable.

And NOT alone.

Never again alone.

Image source

Introductions

2014-07-04T20:46:00.000-07:00

Hi. My name is Jane, pleased to meet you.

My life has been pretty wonky for some years now, but in the last year it has gone from mildly amusing to screwed the fuck up.

I've got this other blog, but for the most part it's a 4th of July parade down Main Street. Lots of flag-waving freckle-faced kids sitting on curbs with Bomb Pop juice running down their chins and shit. Mildly self-deprecating, but in such a way that I can still hold my head high when I walk into the grocery store or down the halls of my kids' school.

Because now I've got identities to protect. My kids are getting big and apparently they don't like me to air their dirty laundry in cyber space where they think they've got reps. And this husband of mine. It simply wouldn't DO for me to vent on the inter webs where people know him.

Whatever.

Because you know what? Damn it, I need to vent.

So this will be my safe little place where I can write freely. If John is an asshat, I can come here and bitch away and no one will be the wiser. Well, thats the plan, anyway.

And I'm hoping I can get some advice from those of you that have btdt, because I'm one of those Pollyannas that thought this was my one true love that I would be with forever and always. It still hurts to think that we may not be, but then there are those times he just pisses me the fuck off and I feel on solid ground with the decisions I've made.

So there you have it. The mission statement of this experimental blog.

Anyone listening?