I didn’t want to write today

Coming off of a most excellent Saturday, I woke up this morning feeling wonderful, with a long list of things to do. I looked forward to keeping my mind and body occupied, since idle time seems to wreak havoc on my psyche. As I trekked through my day I managed to remain upbeat and didn’t focus once on my impending divorce. I had a little visit with my mom, took care of some household chores, did some work on, and then went for a ride on my motorcycle, stopped to watch the sun set. It was a good day.

Unfortunately, having done everything I set out to do, I found myself thrust into the dreaded “idle time,” and sat in my living room half-heartedly watching television. But there was nothing that kept my attention in any meaningful way. I turned off the TV and put on some music in hopes of losing myself in some of my favorite Latin beats. And eventually shut that off as well. Thus leaving me to sit in the quiet, staring at the walls, and kicking myself for allowing it all to get to me. The silence was oppressive, the seclusion was intense, and the recognition of today’s failure was a great source of sadness

I long for the day that I can get through it without having to “keep myself busy.” I want desperately to be able to simply sit and do nothing and it be a moment of simple rest and relaxation. While I am in the company of others, regardless of who that may be, I am often viewed, and remarked upon, as having adjusted really well to the singular life and seemingly am just fine and dandy. Which makes sense because when in the company of others… I am.

When I am confronted with these moments, I try very hard not to reach out to others. Often unsuccessfully, but I do put forth every effort. I am working very hard on learning how to allow the rest and relaxations come into focus with all the garbage left behind... To simply hang out with me. I’m certain this will come in time… I just wish that time was now.

The agonizing nature of what I experience during these periods is quite overpowering, and such is the case now. And it seems lately that the only solace I find when I’m alone is to sit and write. Which is why my goal of having nothing about which to write today has failed... again. Tomorrow will be another attempt. Since I have no plans for anything to do after I leave my office. If you don’t see a new post from me, please consider that to be a small personal victory…

Thank you

When friends or acquaintances would ask how long my wife and I had been married I would often joke about it feeling like an entire lifetime. This wasn’t ever meant to convey any sort of bad feelings or regret or resentment. Instead it was my little way of letting my wife know that the things I used to get from her seemed so far in the past that they may as well have been an entire lifetime ago. The feeling of admiration, the supportive qualities that a spouse bestows on her mate, the care and concern for a partner’s wellbeing.

I have often believed when a person worries about another, it always comes from a position of care. The person over whom worry is expressed has value as a human being. Being significant enough to be worried about is in my view, a wonderful conveyance of love. And as I have said before, love is the opening of one’s self as the basis of aiding in the spiritual growth of another. Not spiritual in the biblical or religious sense, but more in the context of the human spirit. Add to this the recognition of the little things. Like how I hate strawberries, or how I worry about my friends, or how I value certain mores, or the placement of my collection of shoes in my bedroom, or that I blush easily. Deeper still, there is the adoption of importance of the things that are important to me, simply because they ARE important to me. Together these things spell only one thing.

It’s been quite a while since my wife has worried about me. Or recognized the little things. Or found importance in things simply because they are important to me. And I have interpreted this as having been a long time since I’ve been viewed with a value worthy of being loved.

Until now.

Today it’s quite different. Today there is someone who worries if I’m eating… or eating right (anyone who knows me, knows that I have the nutritional habits of a six year old). She actually noticed that the collection of shoes in my room has shifted. If I am concerned about a close friend, she is genuinely concerned as well. Even though she has never met him. I posted an article not long ago where I expressed my loneliness when I wake up alone if I happen to have been sleeping in my bead instead of my couch. She even asks where I slept the night before. She puts her own troubles aside in the name of addressing mine. She likes that I blush easily. All this and more spells one thing to me.

She doesn’t have to say it… she doesn’t even have to acknowledge it. I feel it. And for that I am grateful. Grateful that someone, for whom I have the highest regard, finds value in me as a human being. I feel just a little taller, stronger, and more significant. And well… I just wanted to express my gratitude and simply say…

Thank you….

Building a better man

I've been sitting back thinking about my travels in the short time since declaring we'd separate. I say short time because by the calendar it has only been a couple or three months. Yet it feels like an entire lifetime has gone by.

When this whole thing first hit, I was devastated. Even though it was I who gave voice to splitting up, I did so because I felt I had no other option. My heart's desire was to do what could be done to save my failing marriage. But, such an effort requires full participation from both, and my wife, for her own reasons, was not able to fully vest herself. In the end, I made the decision. Nevertheless, her indifference to it, her inaction toward fighting for her marriage... for me... left me painfully heartbroken. For a week or two following the "proclamation" I noticed her face softened just a little. She seemed relieved. Which only added to my heartbreak. Don't get me wrong; I didn't want her to hurt. I just wanted some indication that my leaving represented a loss to her. Instead I was devalued. My role as husband seemingly meant nothing. More heartbreak.

When I finally moved out something unexpected happened. I have never lived alone until now. After my first wife and I split up, I immediately got a roommate to help defray the cost of keeping the house. So here I am at the tender age of 48 and for the first time in my life... I am actually living alone. Initially I dreaded it. I didn't want it and in truth, I was just a bit scared of it. But... as I said something unexpected happened. My first night of officially living in "my" place left me feeling refreshed. Okay... more like relieved. I am actually happy to be living alone. It brings with it a sense of freedom that I had never experienced before. I still experience a certain apathy and I still get lonely. At times that loneliness is profoundly oppressive.

My loneliness doesn't come from missing my wife. It comes from missing my life. I quite enjoyed coming home and knowing that someone was there. It didn't matter that there was no interaction... as long as she was there I was okay. I enjoyed that I had a role in something larger than myself. That I belonged to a partnership. So yes... I still get lonely and likely will for some time. But... I think one of the biggest lessons I have learned is that it makes no sense allowing the loneliness to drive what I do for my life. I refuse to allow myself to simply take on a "warm body" in an attempt to mitigate the isolation. Rather I am learning how to be okay simply hanging out with me. Yes I am dating... yes I have met someone who has captured my heart. But... While I am putting effort into nurturing a relationship, I am also putting in the work in nurturing a relationship with me. This to me is probably the largest indication of my personal growth. I am not only WILLING to learn how to enjoy the aloneness... I am EMBRACING the challenge. If you knew me a year ago you'd understand the depth of this.

So today, I am a man who has failed marriage number two under my belt. And learning how to be fulfilled as a singular human being, and over all, enjoying this new life that I have entered. There are challenges that lay ahead, some unknown. But as a very wise woman once said to me, I don't get to see the last card yet. I'll see it when I reach it and not a moment before. But what I do know is in spite of the at times daunting challenges, this is exactly where I need to be. And I suspect that there will be ups and downs along the way but I will end up a better human being... a better man because of this.

Lonely

While working through the material exercises surrounding my separation, I'm aware and appreciative of the fact that I've been blessed with a lot of goodness. I'm making new friends, I'm meeting my neighbors, my work is doing okay, I'm writing... a lot, I'm enjoying lots of opportunities to exercise my favorite hobby, and I'm seeing a wonderful lady. Yes... things are good. Yet in spite of all the goodness that has found its way to me, I also find myself in a daily battle with being just plain lonely. And that loneliness at times seems more than any human being should ever have to endure.

This lonesomeness seems to have two very specific points in each day where it is most prevalent. The least of the two is at the end of my day, when I get home from work. In this case, walking into an empty house is an event that I have been avoiding, opting instead to stop at a local coffee shop on my way home from the office. I will sit there, have my espresso, use my iPhone to check email, facebook, blog feedback etc. Occasionally I'll phone a friend and simply chit-chat for a bit. Unfortunately there always comes a time that I have to head home and walk into the silence. I have come to dread the exact moment that I walk in the door. The good news is once inside and after a few minutes have passed, I tend to be okay.

The most difficult part of every day in terms of feeling the isolation, is that precise moment when I first wake up. Opening my eyes brings with it a harsh realization that there is no one next to me. I used to be a morning-person. When the alarm would go off, I'd be up, out of bed, fully alert, and ready to start my day. Now, I hit the snooze and burry my head into my pillow. But the most telling is the general feeling I have when getting ready for my day. I walk around the house, making coffee, listening to the news, showering etc and do so with the general feeling that this isn't really my home. It's someone else's place and I am merely a house-guest. I have found the most effective way to avoid such morning experiences is to sleep on the couch. For whatever reason waking up on the couch doesn't bring the loneliness with it. I simply get up and start my day.

Sleeping on the couch is okay... I'm rested and never have to make the bed. But the truth is, I'd like to be able to sleep in my bed, wake up okay and have that be the rule and not the occasional "good night." Last night, after enjoying an extraordinarily wonderful day, I decided to give it a try. No good... woke up lonely and have been in a sort of funk for most of this morning. Blah...

Who says it’s too soon?

I find it very interesting this notion of “too soon” when it comes to matters of the heart. What does that really mean? Certainly there can’t possibly be some magic calendar one must follow that tells us when it is or isn’t time to get involved with another. We are all different people. The rate at which we heal is destined to be different for us all. If we subscribe to the belief that we never choose who we fall for, it must then follow that we don’t choose when either.

It’s no secret that I have met someone. And while I remain somewhat guarded with my heart, it has indeed been captured and if I’m to be completely honest… it feels really good. Does it somehow eliminate all my other issues? Does all the pain associated with the end of my marriage magically vanish as a result of my heart having been captured? Have I somehow lost the space in my heart for my wife? Do I suddenly lose that connection with my first wife, the mother of my children, because I’ve been given the gift of a connection with another? Not at all. I think I’d be kidding myself if I believed otherwise.

Even as the idea of nurturing a relationship while dealing with the dissolve of my marriage brings a new element into the paradigm, it’s not untenable. As long as I give the priority of my spirit to the care and feeding of “me” then all the other stuff is okay. Or at least it should be. And as long as I allow love to emerge and never “make” it happen, that is equally okay. Ultimately, if it were too soon, then it simply would not be happening.

My personal opinion is that the concept of “too soon” is in reality a defense mechanism we cooked up because we’re scared of opening our hearts. My mother used to say that love is the saddest emotion. I say that love is the most powerful force known to man. It has the strength to cause kings to step away from the throne and is something on which wars have started. To love another… to accept love from another means to expose our hearts. And in the wake of it having been injured, doing so is a frightening experience. So we protect it… we do what we can to avoid the fear. But to what end?

I am not willing to give up on the incredible feelings of joy and wonder and new discovery that come with love. I am not willing to dismiss the goodness because I’m afraid of my heart being injured again. Courage doesn’t mean an absence of fear… it means diving in, in spite of the fear. And when it comes to love… be brave, be bold and move ahead!

That’s all I’m saying…

I wrote a poem

I moved out of “our” home a few weeks ago and it would seem I had left a few things behind. My wife (soon to be non-wife) was kind enough to have packed it up for me and had it in the garage for me to retrieve. Last night, in the wake of a bitter exchange she instructed me to pick it all up within a week otherwise it would simply be thrown away. I went there this morning.

I gathered several boxes of stuff without really looking at their contents. All I wanted to do was minimize the amount of time I had to be there. Upon returning home and after carrying it all inside I started the task of going through it with the intent of sorting and putting it all away. Included with some of my old tools and office stuff were a handful of items I though odd to have been included. It actually made me wonder if she really meant to pack it for me. And among those items was a single, very simple item that upon seeing it, just broke my heart…

It was the poem I had written and had read for her at our wedding. A year later, since year-one of marriage is represented by paper, I had it framed and presented it to her as a first anniversary present. It’s rather simple… cheap frame, printed on white paper. Certainly not a piece of art. But it was something that came directly from my heart. I read it and I’m overwhelmed. The words are descriptive of some of the very things that were lost somewhere along the way. How can that be when these were the very things on which our marriage was based? And what message am I to understand by her giving it back to me?

For your reading pleasure I have transcribed it here, word-for-heartfelt -word, as I had written it way back then. Note two things though; first it is a fairly accurate description of the two of us the evolution of our relationship. And secondly I am not a poet, so it may seem a bit corny.

Promises

Opposite beings from two separate places.
Come together from worlds vastly apart.
He is enthusiastic and immersed in the moment.
She is deeply pensive with a passion for art.

Her pursued her with tenacity. She allowed the pursuit.
A bond between them they would weld.
Love came quickly for him, yet cautiously for her.
In the end a relationship grew and unity held.

Now together in a world made safe by the two.
With each other they find solace.
United with a commitment most honest and true.
This unity solidified by their promise.

He promises to love her, cherish her, and honor her.
And respect her without condition.
He will stand by her and be supportive of her.
And remain faithful to her without restriction.

She will provide for him and place called home.
Where he may be emotionally revealed.
A home free of fear, or judgment, or reprisal.
Without slightest desire to be concealed.

Each promises to be the other’s fan and harshest critic.
Each will be a provider of strength and advocate of endowment.
Each will motivate, enliven, and inspire the other.
Most importantly, when energy is spent.

They will share their dreams and be open and honest.
They will be expressive every day.
They will honor respect and defend integrity.
And remain united in every possible way.

Together they will travel through life and caress every color.
And walk hand in hand to savor every hue.
They will fulfill the highest task of a bond between lovers.
That each should stand guard as protector of the two.

Each will be guardian of secrets, and loyal intimate.
Each will be the other’s best friend, and accomplice in life.
Each will be a vigorous hero, and unfailing lover.
Simply stated, they will be husband and wife.

This was my gift to her… why the hell did she simply toss it in a box filled with a bunch of just plain stuff? Is this what it’s all been reduced to? Has something that was so heartfelt become just “stuff?’ This one is very hard to take and causes me a massive setback in my personal healing. Was that the intent? To just make me hurt? I honestly don’t know but damn it… this is so not cool.

Money matters

I knew it’d have to start eventually. And indeed it has… with a vengeance! Without getting into the nitty-gritty details of it all I’ll say this; my future ex is looking out for herself. You have to respect that. She doesn’t want to walk away from this feeling as though she has gotten the fuzzy end of the stick. But what need also be recognized is that my efforts and focus are exactly the same. Except of course, I’m looking out for me.

There is a fundamental difference however, in terms of our respective reactions to it. We have both stated our positions on certain things. Each of us has valid argument that supports our respective positions. Any outsider can look at this and lean to one side or the other and never be wrong. It’s simply what happens. In this case however, while I have this recognition and am therefore just fine with going through the negotiations, she is angry. And her anger has manifested itself in bitter attacks and lashing out in a variety of ways.

The lashing out thusly, slices directly into my heart quite effectively! Words are powerful and she, of all people, knows exactly which to use to draw from me a litany of painful emotion. And it’s working… she has succeeded in causing me great distress and it hurts. It doesn’t really matter exactly what was said. What does matter is with this, I must summon every ounce of my will not to reply in kind. The rational mind knows that it’s always best to take the high road and not strike back. However when she is so able to squeeze my heart until it aches, my emotional reflexes cajole me to swing back with great intent. It’s only started and I already am finding it a great challenge to resist issuing my own barrage of hurtful remarks.

I remind myself of a lesson taught to my children when they were younger. Simply put, when a disagreement descends into violence, whether verbal or physical, what this demonstrates is the inability of the attacker, to pose credible argument that supports his or her position. Which means the moment one’s efforts turn toward causing pain that person has already lost. I know this both from observing example of it n the past and from my own hatful attacks. Which is to say I have been equally guilty of such behavior in the past. Today however, my aim is that we both walk away from this without having caused emotional trauma. Or at least to have it minimized as much as possible.

A new "old" heartbreak

Last night was not a good night. Two significant things happened that this morning, leave me despondent and somewhat dethatched from everything around me. I apologize in advance if this presents itself in what is likely to be a somewhat disjointed manner. These past few days I haven't gotten a lot of sleep. This is due only to my willingly foregoing sleep in favor of my participation in some of the things I simply enjoy. Additionally, last night I had very little to eat and a tad too much wine (it was a really nice Pinot and couldn't stop at only one glass). So needless to say, I was fuzzy at best.

First, I was chatting with a lady-friend whom I’ve been seeing, and for whom I’ve developed some deep feelings. Very deep. I want to see her this weekend and owing simply to the dynamics of life, I may not be able to. Rather than taking on an understanding posture, as I ought to, I became frustrated and allowed that to take over. I expressed my frustration. Perhaps too much. Which of course imposed undue pressure on her and added to an already full plate of the life-demands with which she is burdened. I heard it in her voice. I could tell I had crossed the line that separates good times together and being just plain too much. Not cool, not cool at all. I wasn't happy with myself for that. I don't want to be the over-pressuring man. But last night I was selfish and I weakened just enough to let it take over. Albeit for only a brief conversation. Not cool...

After that conversation I think I poured my third glass (though I can't say that with complete certainty), and through a series of online, text-based messages, found myself on the phone with my first wife. Without divulging private details, I'll say only that she too is facing some rather challenging times. It was I who invited her to call me and my intention was only to provide open ears and a soft shoulder. These days I don't have much more than that to offer. Instead the conversation turned into something else that threw me for a really big loop.

I learned that she has been reading this blog. I asked her why... and she shared that she finds it helpful in her own situation. That she, through reading it and through the contact that we have had over the years following our divorce, has come to view me as a completely different man. One that she views as a mentoring spirit who touches the heart of those with whom I come to know. She shared that when we were first together, she considered herself a scared little girl who hid behind me. But that through my encouragement, she learned to step out from behind me, to take on the challenges of life with strength. She told me this is my purpose in this world. To mentor others who live with a heavy heart (her words). I was humbled, and happy that we were on the phone because as she spoke I was crying (God I hate being a man who cries so easily).

I've said it before; I believe as human beings we are capable of meaningful and lasting love relationships of the romantic variety, with more than one person. That we can devote our hearts to a succession of people in rewarding and wonderful ways. But that we will never forget that first true love. The one who for the first time in our lives captured our hearts and taught us what it was truly like to be loved. She was mine... my first honest and real love and something that to this day, I miss terribly. Not in the sense of pining over her. More in the sense that I will never have a "first love" again. And then she said it... she told me that she knew it then and knows it today, that I loved her deeply, passionately and with a depth that she has never experienced before or since. That no one could possibly love another with the intensity that I did her. Immediately it all came back to me. Like a wave I was hit with every painful moment that occurred when we split up all those years ago. And I once again experienced a deep and profound heartbreak. Like I was losing such a love relationship right then and there. My God it was insanely painful!

I did my best to conceal the impact those few words had, though I doubt I was successful. In any case I ended the call quickly after that. Sat and finished my wine. Went to sleep. And woke up with what can only be described as a terribly heavy heart.

Now you may be wondering what all of this has to with my current separation from my second wife. How this plays into the pain and heart ache associated to that. The answer is really quite simple... NONE of this would be happening if she and I hadn't split up...

Happy birthday

Much like Valentine’s Day was, today promises to be yet another troubled day for me. You see, today is my wife’s birthday. Normally, about this time I’d be strategically placing a card somewhere that I know she’d find it. And this evening would be a nice dinner somewhere special along with the presentation of gifts. Leading up to today would have been a few weeks of my paining over the perfect presents to get her. I’d secretly be shopping at the local stores, malls, on-line, in search of those four basic gifts one should always get for their significant other. Personal, practical, special, and silly. Like the year I got her a fire hydrant (yes it was a real one).

However this was not one of those years. There was no searching everywhere imaginable, no stressing over what to get, no planning of a dinner somewhere nice, no reading of countless cards until finding THE one that conveyed exactly what I wanted to say. Nothing. And of course I can’t call her, email her, or even post a quick “Happy birthday” on Facebook. Nothing… This is one of those days I’d like only to call-in-sick, stay at home, and simply be alone. Alone to reminisce… and very likely to experience the deep sadness that seems to come and go with the drop of a hat. But alas, my job responsibilities beckon.

Now, since I was stupid enough to have crossed the line on a couple of my posts, my belief is that she is no longer reading this blog… which makes it safe to be as expressive as I’d like right here. And in that spirit…

Happy Birthday Babe.

Admiration

One of the best books I have ever read, His Needs, Her Needs by Willard F. Hartley Jr. discusses the five basic things a man needs from his mate. And of course the five basic things a woman needs from hers. I've included both of those lists at the end of this post, but there is one in particular, because of recent events, on which I'd like to focus.

Admiration.

Simply put, men have a strong need to be admired. I'm not talking about being told how hot we are, or what big strong men we are. I'm talking about a woman who is genuinely impressed by the things that make us who we are... as men. For some it's our intelligence, or the way we hold strongly to our moral code, or perhaps the skill with which we execute our favorite pastime. And yes, for some it is indeed in physical strength, or how good looking we are. Deeper still, it can be a collection of all these things and others not listed here. For me it's about being recognized for the skill I have in the things about which I am passionate.

Of the three things over which I am most fervent, writing is likely to be at the top of the list. And I enjoy being recognized for it. In my professional life I do a tremendous amount of technical writing and to lesser degree, marketing communications. As a hobby I have produced pieces in a variety of genres. And while I am proud of what I have created, it never gets old when another issues incredible praise for what I consider my art.

Yesterday I was challenged to create a short story after being given only a few pertinent pieces of information about a person. Two glasses of wine and a short break later, I produced a piece that had my recipient absolutely gushing with admiration. And in truth the praise was so genuine and so heartfelt that it actually caused me to cry... happy tears of course, but crying nonetheless. You see, It's been a very long time since anyone has giving me such a tremendous and uplifting admiration over something that comes from my heart. My wife, in spite of her goodness as a human being, never gave me such a gift. Not in any meaningful way. An I had forgotten what it was like. So when it came pouring out I was overwhelmed with pride, gratitude, humility, and inspiration. It was likely one of the best gifts I've received in a very long time and it made my heart smile. And once again borrowing a phrase from my daughter, for my heart it was a proper ear-to-ear grin!

Admiration is a powerful and wonderful feeling. So powerful that I simply felt compelled to share it with you all. I get exhausted sometimes conveying all the darkness that surrounds my life that I felt it was important to inject a little goodness. And I could not think of any better place to do that than here.

So... as I mentioned, the book, His Needs Her Needs, lists the five basic things both men and women need from their mate. And as promised I've listed those here for your reading pleasure. Keep in mind, they are not placed here in any particular order and it is stressed in the book, that they are neither mutually exclusive nor a representation of everything we as humans need. But here you go;

His Needs:

• An activity partner
• An enthusiastic sexual partner
• To find her attractive
• Domestic support
• To be admired

Her needs:

• An affectionate partner
• An intimate partner
• An open and honest partner
• Financial support
• A family commitment

 

 

Reaching out - Part two

My first wife - whom I continue to declare was the absolute love of my life - and I split up in 1996. We are, and will remain connected because we happened to have produced two wonderful kids. And we also have two wonderful grandchildren. However beyond simple connection, she and I share a rather distinctive bond and have what I consider to be a very special but unconventional relationship that extends beyond “friendship.”

This morning I sequestered myself in my home office to catch up on some mundane but very neglected tasks for work. And as I often do, I put on some music. This is nothing controversial, however while concentrating deeply on a not-so-glamorous spreadsheet a song started playing that drew me completely away from my work and to a place way back to the time when she and I were still married. Because You Loved Me by Celine Dion. This was a song that in one of our more tender moments, she dedicated to me because she always said I provided the inspiration for her to reach for more than she would have otherwise.

I was instantaneously and deeply troubled. But to add to the sorrow, I was also disorientated. How is it that I miss my first wife? Thirteen years after our divorce!! Hurt… deep sadness… a profoundly troubled heart. In truth, and rather pathetically, I wonder if I have ever really stopped missing her. There I sat. With eyes closed I pictured my past life. I saw it all clearly. My beautiful wife, two kids, a dog. Back then I thought I had the perfect marriage. It’s funny how life takes us full-circle to a point we believed to have been long gone and buried.

I did what anyone in my situation would have done… I sent her an email. Okay, maybe no one normal would have done so but there I was… emailing her. And in my email I reminded her of the song… of her dedication of it to me… and then asked why the hell I miss her. She responded;

“I remember. I love that song. And I can't answer why but I sure am glad it’s a healthy missing me from a relationship that was normal. Maybe that's why neither of us see anything wrong with it.”

I went from a burdened heart to a smile. As my daughter would say, a proper ear-to-ear grin. But this highlights something new and terribly wrong with me. I recently emailed my current wife… the one from whom I’m splitting now. And I just emailed my first wife. In as little as a few days I reached out to them both. What?! I wish I had a rational explanation for this. Sadly I do not. But I can say with absolute certainty, I don't like this... not one bit.

Which means this is the newest of what promises to be a zillion new issues through which my therapist will be taking me. Sigh… tonight I feel rather pathetic…

Happy "you" day

February 14, 2010

One of those pain filled days for me is Valentine’s Day. My name is Karl Valentine-Rothenberg. And when this day would come around, I would always sign the card, “Happy you day” or some such silly but heart filled way.

It was just one of the cutesy things I did. For me, it made the day exclusively ours and no one else’s. You see I tend to be somewhat of a romantic and have an overabundance of passion that just itches to be expressed. It’s the man that I am. This is the first Valentine’s Day I’m not able to make it exclusively ours. I can’t do one of those things that personalize it for us. I can’t even wish her a good day in a generic, cookie-cutter manner. And it leaves me feeling… well… cheerless.

The good news is I’m not crying… not dead on my feet… not lost in emotional wreckage that leaves me rooted to my chair, staring off into a vacant reality. I’m just a little sad. I just wish things were different… that’s all…

I have a feeling that today is going to be a very long day…

The benefits of psychotherapy

While riding the proverbial emotional rollercoaster in the wake of my marital end, there have been numerous occasions where psychotherapy was suggested to me as a means of managing the turmoil. Along with that, there has also been suggestion of anti-depressants and anti-anxiety medications. Many people have expressed the benefits of both in their own emotional journeys and have urged me to at very least, give them some consideration.  I have been resistant to it all. My reasoning has always been that (a) I do not want to be dependent on some drug as a means of dealing with my emotions and (b) the idea of therapy carries with it a stigma that I have thought would cause others to view me as a weak man. Which, as you may know, is something I simply cannot abide (I know, I know... it's something I'm still working on).

Confession time...

For several years I have been dealing with at times a profound depression. Brought about by a number of external influences, all with my marital woes at the core. For better than a couple years now, I have indeed been under the care of what I consider to be a dynamite therapist. And early in my treatment I did use anti-depressants. I'm happy to say that I'm no longer on the meds but I continue to see my therapist and will do so for as long as is necessary. I have not mentioned it until now because... well... I'm embarrassed at the need. I don't consider myself a weak man... in my natural state. However, I am all too aware that there are those who would consider me feeble if they knew this about me. Consequently it's been my dark little secret that I have kept from everyone except a select few of those closest to me... my inner circle, if you will. My own mother doesn't know... well I suppose she does now.

While this remains a source of embarrassment for me, in the context of my marital split it has also been an invaluable benefit. Though this would not have been the case had I not started treatment well before my separation. I met with a number of therapists and in each case there was something that simply didn’t click. I attribute this to a variety of reasons but the bottom line is we just didn’t jibe well. Consequently I went through a few before I met “D” (Remember… no names).

“D” for me is the perfect combination of clinical knowledge and human beingism. In fact she’s kind of a hippy. In the opening minutes of my first encounter with her I knew with complete certainty, she was the perfect fit for me. Her office smelled of incense, there were tie-dyed tapestries hanging from the walls, a statue of Buddha in her office. Excellent! Non-traditional! She is a no-nonsense person deeply driven by that which simply makes sense. And she has absolutely no problem telling me, with absolute clarity, when I've been an idiot, asshole or otherwise not a correct or good person. But she does so in a way that is never belittling or insulting or inflammatory. Yes, my time with her has proven to be one of the best things I've done for myself. And were it not for her, I dare say it, I'd be an even bigger emotional mess than I am currently.

So, why, if this is such a source of embarrassment for me would I discuss it in print? I wish I had a solid answer for that... it just feels like the right thing to do at this stage of the game. If you read my profile, you'll know that I consider myself a fairly basic man. Which is to say I am not so unique that the things I've been experiencing are unique to me. I believe with absolute conviction that there are others who have seen, felt, experienced, the same sort of emotional rubbish as I. And well... leaving this out of a blog intended to share and hopefully provide some level of solace for others, seems to be a disservice. And one of the things that has helped me in my own quest for equilibrium (emotionally speaking), is that I have been able to help others. Be it with a smile, hug, or just to let them know they aren't alone, that there is a definite and foreseeable end to all the pain. So while I am doing this for others, I also have completely and very selfish motivations. But as someone very close to me once said, human beings are never 100% altruistic. In any case, I share this now because it's a huge benefit and if you feel inclined, it just may be for you too.

Therapy, in spite of the stigma that it carries is a good thing. It helps as long as you give weight to two simple caveats; First make sure the therapist you choose is the right kind of human being measured by YOUR own standards. If you aren't comfortable, find another one. Trust me, they know that each person is different and they won't be insulted if you declare them "not right" for you. Secondly, be an enthusiastic and willing participant in your own therapy. These professionals are not a magic bullet. They are there to help YOU figure it out for yourself. Without your active involvement and honest desire, it'll never help and will only amount to a huge waste of time and money.

I'm speaking here from personal experience...

Reaching out to her

Bad news received:
Someone with whom I was, at one time, very close and currently lives just outside London, is sick and expected to pass at any time. He's my first wife's brother and for years has been battling a debilitating disease, MS. My adult kids are very close to their uncle. My daughter, who is traveling in Europe got word (she's on the call list) that the doctors are calling for his family and loved ones to be close. It would seem the end is near and she has postponed the next leg of her trip to Manchester in favor of being close to him and his daughter (my niece). My son, who lives with his family near Birmingham is also on his way. I'm saddened at his impending loss but must remain strong for my kids. Which in truth, causes me more pain owing to my inability to travel to England to be at their side.

Reaching out:
The sadness I feel for the impending loss of a good man isn't really the primary thrust of this post. Rather, it's what I'm doing about the sadness and to whom I reached out for moral support. My wife. I know I'm not supposed to do that anymore. Not with her. But in a time like this I am hoping, with pretty much all of me, that she won't turn her shoulder away. I emailed her... apologized for the intrusion... shared what's going on... and closed by saying that she didn't need to respond, all I wanted was to share it with someone safe. I honestly hope she replies. Just to say she's sorry to hear it. Anything! I just have this need to know her heart has some compassion left for me. Even a little... something.

Response:
She replied... and had very kind words for me. She praised my kids for going to him. She acknowledged that my inability to be there will be hard and actually said that she has me in her thoughts... this is all I wanted... all that I needed. Even though I am in tears as I write this, today they are good tears. Once again, when it really counted... she came through for me. I'm so relieved...

Those Damn photos

For several years I have owned and managed our website. I own the domain and am the administrator for the web server. The site was started as, and has served as a vehicle for us to share with our friends and family, all the things worth sharing. I think of it somewhat on par with those annoying annual letters people send recounting all the events of the previous year. “We remodeled our kitchen”, “our cat has asthma”, “Susie finished first in her class”, “the car blew up… right in the driveway!” In this case however it was on-going and real-time. And among other things it was filled with hundreds of photos. Photos of our camping trip to Yosemite. Pictures of my nephew’s wedding. Of my son’s wedding, Christmases. Photos of her participating in her sport and photos of me with my motorcycling buddies. Recently she asked me if I would burn photos onto CD for her.

Tonight I started going through them to sort which she would and which she would not want. And of course that meant looking at them. It wasn’t enough to see the headings associated to each grouping, I had to actually look at the photos… each and every one of them. What a blasted mistake that was! I haven’t cried in a while. I know from the perspective of a calendar it hasn’t been that long but it felt as though the last time was ages ago. Photos. She wore a pretty black dress and ruby jewelry. I wore a pin-striped suit, black tie, rose on my lapel. She was beautiful. Yes… I cried… A lot…

I miss my life. I miss the head aches, the arguments about money, her nagging me about things that needed to get done, me nagging her about something I wanted. I miss it all. Sushi and sake with my wife. Christmases at my in-laws, sitting with her at the end of my day, tasting a new dish she was trying out. Begging her to ride with me on my motorcycle… her giving in. Everything. I don’t want to miss her! I don’t want to cry about what once was. I’m angry with myself for feeling like this. For letting it get to me. I want to move forward… to be just me. How is it that I can enjoy what I’m doing yet miss the life I had so terribly much? Both are mutually exclusive. One cannot exist while the other does. Tonight I feel as though I have slipped backward in time and the hurt and upset are starting all over again. I don’t want to acquiesce to the urge to call her… just to see how she’s doing.

Damn photos…

Friends

When I was a little boy and mom would drag me to see someone who was sick and infirmed, she would always say, "You never know who your friends are until you're in the hospital." That, like so many other things mom taught me, has stuck with me. I take it seriously and whenever one of my friends ends up convalescing from whatever injury or malady, I make it a point to be there. And if, heaven forbid, I end up there myself I would hope my friends will do the same.

Analogously, whenever someone is experiencing an emotional injury, something that gnaws at their heart as though their entire world has collapsed, it's equally important that a true friend be there. If for nothing else but to simply sit in silence... together. Regrettably, one of the unfortunate side-effects of divorce is that friends somehow get divided-up along with the furniture, liabilities, and assets. I don't think that any friend consciously "chooses a side." Nor do I believe any "side" chooses the friend. It just happens and shakes out as it shakes out. Alternatively, some of them end up on no side and simply vanish. Nevertheless, I find it telling that in a time when I need my friends, when my emotions are raw, exposed and extremely fragile, I learn, quite unceremoniously, who they really are.

Is this a slam directed toward those who have seemingly vanished? Or is this praise and an issuance of heartfelt gratitude to those who have remained right here next to me? Neither really. Rather, it's just an open acknowledgement that I have been made aware of who is and who isn't, my real friend. I will say though, that along with the emotional upheaval with which I am dealing concerning the demise of my marriage, I am equally pained by those whom I believed - and would have defended - were my friends. I now understand the meaning of shallow superficiality. A lesson I wish I hadn't learned.

Those of you who have remained tirelessly at my side, tolerating the silliness and extremes of my emotions, self degradation, stupid decisions, and bad ideas, I am blessed to have you in my life and value it beyond measure. You all know who you are... there is no need to single anyone out. You have all demonstrated who my real friends are. And for that I will remain eternally and incredibly grateful.

Hmmm, it would seem this was a slam to those who have disappeared and a heartfelt thanks to those who haven't. Whodathunk...

A single email...

I’ve been doing well. Certainly there have been ups and downs. Yet each extreme has been tolerable and what I consider to have been appropriate amounts of both happiness and sadness. Though after a long day I was greeted by a single email from… her. The subject line was blank. When I saw that it was from my wife I was momentarily rooted in my seat, unable to move or take any action of any kind. I was instantaneously filled with both nervous anticipation and stomach-churning angst.

When I was able to click on that waiting message and began reading, I was disappointed. There was no inquiry about my welfare, no questions about how I’ve been eating, or sleeping, or getting along. Disenchanted. Instead it was several paragraphs of what I can only describe as “taking care of business”. Very dry, emotionless, direct and to the point. Something I’d expect to have received from a project manager doling out my task list for the week. Sigh. I wished she’d show at least some interest about my wellbeing. I do wonder, after all about hers. Though admittedly, I don’t ask either.

After reading it, I had to then reply. And in doing so I found myself sharing everything about how I have been, what I’ve been up to, even the few challenges I’d been dealt. And I immediately erased them. Then I rewrote them in a slightly watered-down fashion. And erased that too. I realized that the sharing of my day, leaning on her shoulder with my difficult challenges, the conveyance of excitement over having seen a tremendously wonderful performance, all these things I have often been moved to share with her, can no longer be. She is no longer the person with whom I share the events of my day… of my life. And I was once again flooded with emotion that left me deflated, sad, downcast. But I didn’t cry so I suppose that’s progress.

This morning, while I am able to enjoy what I have… the new beginnings… the anticipation of cool plans for the immediate future, my heart is heavy. I’m moving a bit slower, not so motivated to start my day, sad. And all it took was that one email. Dam…

Feelings of insecurity

I'm almost 49 years old. My hairline has been in full retreat for a number of years now and the gray has all but taken over. The wrinkles around my eyes do a very good job at revealing my age. My back hurts at the best of times and I'm not as physically capable as I was in my younger days. Today I don't feel as "marketable" as I did 10, 15, 20 years ago.

Insecurity about our attractiveness, in my humble opinion, isn't limited to one gender or another. I will submit however, that most men don't talk about it much. Consider that I'm not really willing to share with my biker-buddies the concerns I have about my developing moobs (man-boobs). So while men tend to be quieter about it, we all feel it equally. And I am no exception. If a woman tells me she thinks me attractive, I look at myself in the mirror and find myself trying desperately to see what she sees.

But our insecurities extend beyond simple body image. There are a great many things that carry their own measure and are each potential cause for our insecurities. The house I rented is small and pieced together like a college dorm room. My cooking capabilities are pretty much at the "I won't go hungry" level. I have coupons next to my checkbook in my little home office. Which is simply one of the bedrooms that happens to have a desk instead of a bed. Income… let’s face it… money always has been and will always be, the great equalizer. And I’ll just say that there is a reason my place is decorated like a college dorm room. Suddenly everything in my home and everything about me seems to be "less than."

And certainly, it's entirely possible that I am simply being overly self-critical. Maybe it isn't really as bad as I'm making it out to be. Whether these things are really as bad... or I simply perceive them to be as bad... they are indeed bad in my head.

Now... I'm not fishing for compliments here. I am merely expressing the fact that as a humble middle-aged man, surrounded by a sea of the rich "beautiful people" here in Southern California, I find myself at the disadvantaged, fuzzy end of the stick. I'm not so much interested in making myself "marketable" as though I intend to live the life of some Romeo. Nor am I really interested in an opulent lifestyle of luxury cars, huge homes, globe-trotting, and lavish parties. I just want to feel good about my surroundings and about myself. And it is equally important to me that the people who are important to those who are important to me, feel good about the man that I am… did I say that right? And I’ll be completely honest here (without looking for compliments), when it comes to my physical appearance and my economic status in this world… I’m f…king scared…

Trying it on

I’ve been complaining a lot lately about how my entire life has changed. And indeed it has. My routine is gone, my friends are different, my habits have changed, and my social life is new. I’ve heard that we can expect this sort of thing whether we like it or not. I’ve been told that change, at times radical, is inevitable and I can either resist and dislike it, or I can embrace it and allow it to take me into new and undiscovered places in my world. I can’t say which of these two options I have conclusively chosen. Perhaps a balance between the two.

In any case, with this shift comes the opportunity (or burden) to simply try new things. And this past weekend I did just that. But before I describe it let me preface it with this; In my humble opinion, as long as we are headed in the right direction, baby steps are still good steps. So… I tried two new things this weekend.

You may have seen in my Mind, Body, Spirit, Heart post that I mentioned my diet is, well… crappy. This is something that has almost always been the case and likely one of the biggest items I need to tackle about myself. Well with my crappy diet I have developed some weird aversion to eating any sort of fruit. Seriously, I can barely tolerate apples and oranges! Well I had a guest visit me Sunday morning and I decided to put out some munchies. And in it I included… you guessed it… fruit. Grapes, Kiwi, Apples, along with some nice brie and havarti cheeses, crackers… you get the picture.

When my friend arrived she noticed the fruit and voiced her surprise. And I then surprised myself by first announcing that I had never tried Kiwi and that I would do so right then. Which I did….

I didn’t hate it.

That’s the best you’re getting from me right now. But apparently what I was doing was sufficient to have caused some amazement for my guest and she said so. My response; “I’m just trying it on.”

The next thing to try on came later that night. In this case it was a Cabernet Sauvignon. Yes, a deep red wine. Simple huh? No… it isn’t. See I have been a guy who can appreciate a good wine, but has been fairly limited in the scope of what I enjoy. And I like my limitations thank you! This, I attribute to simply not knowing a lot about wine to begin with. In ay case, I have always found the deeper reds to be bit hard to take. But… on the recommendation of my friend I opened a nice bottle of Cab and wow… I really liked it! Again, baby-steps but most certainly “trying it on.”

Now, while there is nothing really deep and disturbing to share with this post, there is the message that trying it on doesn’t need to be a bad thing. And while I haven’t completely embraced it as a good thing, I can certainly see its potential to be just that… a good thing. I expect that my life is going to be filled with the new and unexpected. I’m going to try and meet those experiences and proactively identify and try new things. Like I did with the Kiwi. By the way… while I didn’t hate it… I’ll likely not be trying it again any time soon.

Taking care of business

Over the past couple weeks I have been, little by little, transitioning from the "us" life to the "me" life with respect to the business of everyday mechanics. And I am quite frankly overwhelmed! You see, I have spent my entire adult life being taken care of and in all honesty, I never realized to what extent. I am discovering that I took an awful lot for granted and this has resulted in a new and even greater appreciation for the things my wife did. And a new level of absolute embarrassment.

Professionally I have managed million dollar computer network builds, numerous technical projects that involved a great many people, resources, dollars, schedules, and very expensive equipment. I've managed risk and responded to many a crisis with level-headed ease. Can someone explain then, why I went through such hell to get my internet access set up at my new place? Or why I am incapable of stocking my kitchen with an appropriate list of staples? Or why I crumble at the thought of having to iron a shirt?

My head is going to explode!

Yesterday I spent far more money that I had anticipated in handling some of this transition stuff. I walked into the AAA office filled with anxiety and... I'll admit it... abject fear! What!? I'm an educated man... professional... with a history of managing large scale projects! Yet switching the auto club membership and insurance from us to me, proved to be the most daunting and seemingly untenable tasks known to man! I suffered the dreaded paralysis-by-analysis that I have counseled so many others against. And I was filled with such torment that I had to stop before actually going in and collect myself. Absolutely embarrassing!

When I got home, I knew I had to sit and work out a budget. Again, in my professional life this is simply one of the many things that I get done... with relative ease. Yet I delayed and found reason NOT to sit in front of my computer. I dreaded it and was filled with that same fretfulness that I experienced when walking into the auto club office. Holy crap! This isn't supposed to happen! This is supposed to be easy! It's just sitting and playing with numbers! Right! After much delaying I had to actually force myself into it. And of course in doing so I discovered that I had made a rookie scheduling blunder that now means I need to spend some time on the phone. Embarrassing!

In the end, after I finished with my new budget and after I organized my files I sat. And immediately realized I hadn't eaten, hadn't done the dishes that have been piling up, haven't done laundry, haven't gone grocery shopping, am running out of paper-products, and a whole list of other things that have been neglected. And I'm completely humiliated! I have this overwhelming urge to call or email my wife to meekly apologize. To apologize for taking all the things she did for granted. To let her know that I am a complete dolt who simply thought the towels were magically stocked in the linen cupboard all clean and smelling nice and folded all by themselves! Embarrassment.

So this seems to be yet a new and unanticipated challenge. One that I expect will manifest itself in a variety of yet unseen ways (like the fact that there are eight million credit card choices, none of which make any sense to me!). And I am again, embarrassed.

How is it that a smart and educated man such as myself could have been such an absolute idiot?

Mind, Body, Spirit, Heart

The four basic things that define who we are, if measured as a functioning human, are the mind, the body, the spirit, and the heart. I'd like to take the credit for this little piece of enlightenment but I cannot. Rather it was among the topics discussed at the most recent divorce support group meeting I attended. And in this discussion, along with a number of other interactions I've experienced in recent past, it has become increasingly evident that these are the areas on which I must focus my deepest attention if I am to make myself a whole human being again.

But first, I'd like to personally thank the two people responsible for causing me to see this. However in the spirit of holding to my rule about not mentioning names on this blog, I will say it this way...

To our group leader: Sir, with your simple explanation of these four indices I have come to realize how important they are and more importantly, how I have been neglecting them.

To my one special lady (you know who you are): Sweetie, YOU are a huge motivator in this for me. All brought about in a collection of the little things that you do, say, observe about the man that I am (even if I don't see it myself).

Thank you both.

My Mind: I have allowed my brain to sit idle while the rest of the intellectual world moves along. This is not something that started with my separation. Instead it's something that's been happening for a very long time. And rather than attempt to find the specific reason why, I am choosing to commit myself to doing that which exercises the mind. I have projects (mostly writing projects) that have been sitting untouched for far too long. It's time to devote myself to them. I've started that by the creation of this blog. Bit this blog on its own isn't enough. One of the items on my bucket list is to publish something other than that which has been connected to my work (I do a lot of very dry technical writing). Only then will I be able to call myself a writer. I don't know if I will actually achieve that but if I don't, it will not because I didn't try.

My Body: As mentioned before, I have the education behind me such that I understand the necessities and the science of physical fitness. I used to participate in my own fitness. Heavily and successfully. And while I have no intention of returning to the sport of body-building, I do intend to get myself back into a routine of exercise and physical activity. To that end I have set a date in which to step back into the gym (Monday February 8, 2010). Next is how, when and what I eat. I think this is likely to be my biggest challenge since I have never been one to give a lot of attention to this. Most often opting for the quick and easy and of course, most greasy, unhealthy, fattening foods known to man! It's time to change that. I guess it helps that my son just so happens to be a chef. :-) It also helps that I have others close to me that are equally interested in my eating right. Which is good because I doubt I can achieve this one on my own.

My Spirit: I'll say it here... while I no longer follow the religion with which I was raised, I believe in God. I believe I am watched over, guided, protected, and loved. And I believe that He will never confront me with an untenable challenge. But the nature of spirit, in my humble opinion, extends to other things as well. My connectedness to the rest of the world around me. Not in the physical sense but in the understanding that what I do here in LA County will have an impact on what happens on the other side of the world in some way, shape, or form. It is in me extending myself with the intent of helping others. When we teach, we learn. Analogously, when we extend a helping hand, we help ourselves. While it is on the mend, my spirit is broken. It’s time to finish its repair and keep an eye on its maintenance.

My Heart: To me this is the least of what needs attention. My heart is healing quite nicely thank you very much! But not such that it is to be ignored. With that understanding comes the realization that it is an essential but fragile part of me and just like the muscles in my physical being, my heart needs to be exercised, fed well, and it also needs an appropriate amount of rest.

This post will serve as my commitment to these four areas. And I intend to print it and put it on the wall of my home office. My intent is to start on them now. My intent is to continue in the care and feeding of them. And if I falter, my hope is I will catch myself before I fall back into old habits of neglect and apathy. I honestly hope I can do it... because it is indeed time...

Marriage ideals

On my wedding day, the pastor who performed our ceremony addressed those who came to witness our exchange of vows. He told them they each were invited to witness our joining not simply to pad a guest list. But to act as protectors of the vows we were about to exchange. He tasked each and every one of them as guardians of the marriage, and asked them to pledge their commitment to it.

In spite of the fact that I am facing my now second marital disintegration, I have always viewed a marriage as something to be protected at all costs with very little exception. Let me put this in more explicit terms; A marriage is what a man should fall on his own sword to protect. Too often today, people view and treat a marriage as some sort of disposable thing that can be easily cast away should things get tough. And I think that notion... well... sucks! In the split between myself and both of my wives, not once did someone advise me to do what it takes to fix and protect my marriage. This annoys me.

My son is married now. When he and his wife experienced what I consider to be a test to their marriage I sat with him. I told him that because he is a married man, with children, my parental obligation was not to him but to his family. And that my goal was to help him to protect his marriage. I'm glad I did because it taught him the value in a marriage. Once more for clarity; VALUE IN A MARRIAGE.

I've expressed this view to others and I typically get this as an argument, "Sure, but what if you didn't choose right?" Okay... good point. What if I didn't choose right? What if in cases like arranged marriages did it end up to be with the wrong person? What about cases like abuse, adultery, violent crime, or addiction? As I mentioned, there are very few exceptions. And for each of us, that list of exceptions is different. But the question of choosing correctly hits home for me.

In both of my marriages, I thought I had indeed, chosen correctly. And I got married for what I considered to be the right reasons. In both cases, I loved this person intently, and respected her honestly. I chose to have her at my side in a committed, intimate, exclusive way. To act as my advocate, confidant, partner, lover, and witness to my life. And I believed that my chosen mate married me for the same reasons. And the truth is, no matter how "sure" we are, one can never be absolutely certain of having chosen correctly. So now what? Clearly, in order for this ideal to survive it must be shared by both partners. It isn't enough to have only one of us with this belief. Perhaps that's what was meant by "choosing right."

Clearly, my personal view notwithstanding, I am ending marriage number two. So I guess the real question is whether I should change my idealistic view or not. Or maybe just accept the fact that I represent a minority. Or simply chalk it up to not having chosen the correct mate. Twice... Or maybe... just maybe it simply means that I am not destined to finish my days as a married man. While sad, I tend to wonder if this is the real issue...

Apathy

I find it interesting and am becoming increasingly concerned with what seems to be a developing apathy on my part. Simply stated, I seem to have stopped participating in the rest of my life. Well to an extent anyway. I attribute this to what can only be described as a depression with respect to my current goings on regarding the end of my marriage. Now I am not qualified to actually diagnose depression in any clinical sense. But there is certainly something happening that I can't quite explain. I wonder about this one though. I wonder if I am the only one who is doing this.

My work: I'm a mid-level manager for a software company (all very non-glamorous technical stuff). I find that I must kick myself really hard to stay on task. And that exertion of effort is becoming increasingly more difficult. The job is getting done, nothing has slipped through the cracks, but I find that I must spend more hours in the office to make sure of it than ever before.

My physical fitness: I am educated in exercise physiology, I know the science involved in staying fit. I used to be a hard-core gym-rat with aspirations of competitive body building. While the notion of competition is gone, I'd like to actually get that spark back so I can get back into the gym and harden that which has become soft. Yet it all seems like such a mind-numbing task at the moment.

My Diet: One word... crap! When I actually remember to eat I have been opting for the quick and easy. Pizza that gets popped into the oven, McDonalds, quick PBJ sandwiches. But again, this is assuming I actually remember to eat. I have caught myself on a number of occasions looking at the clock, finding that it's 8:00 PM and realize I hadn't eaten anything all day. I've lost weight and am now looking at spending a lot of money just to have suits re-tailored and all my jeans are just too darned large. Some may think this a good problem to have, yet I'm concerned about it because I've lost too much weight, too fast.

Entertainment: If I happen to be with people I'm fine. But when alone I find myself simply sitting and doing nothing. Even watching TV has become an effort. Add to this my weirdness when it comes to being bored to tears. When that hits, rather than getting up and doing something... anything... I actually avoid doing anything. Sort of like being so bored that nothing seems appealing.

My writing and my hobbies: I write a motorcycle related blog. I am involved with several other writing projects. I love wood-working, digital art. All of which have suffered such, that I fear those who depend on me on joint projects, will lose faith in me.

Over all I have either stopped entirely or have severely diminished my involvement in the several elements of my life that I myself consider to be important. And I have no other explanation for this than to blame it on some level of depression. Yet, they say recognizing the problem is half-way toward solving it. If this is the case, why then am I not doing anything about it? And I ask again, am I the only one doing this? Does it indicate that I am weak? Have I become some pathetic loser who has somehow tied his entire life to his love-life? If so it gives excellent explanation for the most common piece of advice I have received from many. And that is to simply hang out with me. That I must learn how to be fulfilled with just me regardless of others who may or may not have been invited into my life.

Why is this sort of thing so challenging in so many different ways? I mean, it's just a marriage with which I was terribly unhappy. I simply don't understand this one.

Memories....

There are things around us in our every day lives that trigger one memory or another. It can be anything; a certain shade of red, a street sign, a piece of fruit, a baseball cap, a song playing on the radio. And for me, I have found whenever I encounter any one of these, I am suddenly filled with mental images where I can see things as if they're happening around me in the present. Memories of the times when things were good. When we were happy. When we were together. I don't mean the opposite of apart, I mean really together, side-by-side.

And I can't help but feel a little nostalgic when faced with such memories. While I'm okay with our split, I can't help but miss the times we shared. The specific events aren't really the thing. It's more the fact that they represent a time when we were connected and living through life's experiences hand-in-hand... side-by-side. Hell, even in the most venomous of splits, one can't help but feel a tug at the heart when wrapped up in these remembrances.

Such was my afternoon. While looking through some old photos I ran through pictures of us during one of the many Christmases we had together. I can't tell which Christmas it was exactly, but it doesn't really matter. What matters is I saw her... smiling. Another photo of us sitting. I had with my arms wrapped around her... smiling. Happy times. Together, family times.

Sadly... those times are gone.

I know what you're going to say, because it's one of the platitudes that I express to others; "Now you can make new memories." Or some such thing. And yes, that's true... I'll be making new memories. And each will be equally or maybe even more significant and indicative of happy times. But that does nothing to quell the resultant pang that comes with remembering past events. These memories at one time would have made me smile. Not today. Today its much different. Today they only make me sad.

I guess I'm not as okay as I thought.

Lessons learned

Emotional ups and downs are par for the course for those of us going through separation and divorce. I knew that would be the case. What I hadn't counted on though was vacillating between the good and bad feelings directed at my spouse... Or how destructive some of those feelings can be... to me.

For the most part I do my best to represent my future "ex" as a good person at her core. In recent past however, through discussion with others, in writing, or buried deep in thought, I have had what I consider to be mean and arrogant thoughts about my spouse. Bitterness... it's coming from me. It took a lot for me to admit to that. And it's true when people say the only person bitterness harms is the one who happens to be feeling it.

Being a member of a few different divorce-related support groups I find there is a common theme of "taking ownership." This has been presented to most of us in the context of taking responsibility for our own contributions to the end of our marriage. But I find it also applies to the feelings we experience and aim at others. And this of course gives rise to even more emotions. I feel guilty, I'm mad at myself. I honestly want to be a good person. I want to be able to look at myself in the mirror and feel good about the person that I see. Yet in the throes of these mean and at times, spiteful thoughts I find I am losing self-respect. And that, by far and away is the top-of-the-list most important thing to me.

The lesson here, for me anyway, is a hard one. I need to avoid the mean thoughts and concentrate on only goodness. And my belief is with practice I'll be able to do that, and the result will be that I can look myself in the eye with respect and admiration. It's just something I've been thinking about lately.

I'm staying right here

In my post, Was this blog a bad idea? I asked for feedback about whether I should continue writing or not. This is based on the very real potential for causing embarrassment for others. In particular my wife. While we are indeed moving forward with our eventual divorce, I harbor no animosity and am deeply concerned that I don't cause any undue harm.

I've received a number of positive responses by direct email, text message, personal conversation, and even facebook. Add to that the analytics I use to monitor site activity, and I have what I humbly consider to be good cause to continue writing. However, I think the biggest take-away message came from a woman (no names mentioned) who had been reading my stuff where she said,

"...the blog definitely was not a bad idea, but the direction it has taken lately might be. It started out as a blog of universal, relatable topics so poignantly written. But the last few have been highly private, more of a personal journal than a blog. Too private for me. I have felt like I was eavesdropping on therapy, or rummaging through your medicine cabinet."

With this in mind I will do my best to keep it out of my "medicine cabinet" and share only what is more widely relatable. Your feedback helps a lot here. So stay tuned for more of my separation and divorce diary... I hope others find it helpful. If for not other reason than to know you aren't alone in this...

With much respect,
Karl