Our anniversary

As I sit here in my office, I happened to glance over to check today's date. And what do you know... today is our wedding anniversary. And I'm saddened. Not saddened at the thought of the "us" thing. Rather, I'm saddened that this day, which was once a day of celebration, a sort of private holiday, is now nothing more than a reminder of a period of my life that didn't end very well. Sad.

Each year is represented by some particular material or another and I, being a traditionalist, would always work very hard to find something made with that material. This being our ninth anniversary, the gift would have been pottery. And I can think of a load of things that would fit the bill quite nicely. She loves gardening, loves decorative pottery, loves artistic ceramics in general. This year would have been easy to find the perfect gift. But alas... there was no gift shopping, no picking out of the right card. This year there would be no looking forward to her creating some culinary delight to share as she did every year, no going away to celebrate with a weekend of romance, no champagne.

Nothing... zip... zilch... zero... nada. Sad.

This is my second failed marriage. And as with my first, I will always remember my anniversary. And just like with the first, this day will forever be one that represents yet another collapse. An end to something that started out good. There's a hole in my heart for which there is no available repair. That hole will be there forever... right next to the first one.

Self discovery

Self discovery is a wonderful thing.

I have always viewed myself in a somewhat limited way. And I have always defended my view of myself without wavering in the least. Yet, in the aftermath of separation, and the resultant reinvention of myself, I have come to learn that my own perception of me is (a) inaccurate and (b) has always been inaccurate.

I have always considered myself to be a fairly superficial man. One without deep or profound thought. I avoid deep philosophical conversation and tend to shy away from having to take long and in-depth looks at myself. At least this is what I thought. I have come to learn however, that I am, and always have been a very deep and passionate person with staunch and inflexible philosophies. I have deep seeded values, things I was taught by all of the important people in my life, throughout my life. I'm an old-school man who believes in age-old traditions. And I hold onto them. I believe in God but abhor organized religion.

I am educated, well-spoken, have what I consider to be a strong moral code, try (though not always successful) to take the high road wherever I can, have never robbed a friend or intentionally caused harm to anyone. I'm a man who places the highest value on my family and will defend them to the death if necessary. And I define "family" to extend beyond blood. Those who become important to me will always be important to me even if I haven't spoken to them in years. I believe if you are never dishonest, you will never have to remember what you said. Yet my outward presentation is completely to the contrary and sometimes, I enjoy that. I typically present myself as one from "the other side of the tracks" yet at times am annoyed when someone makes snap judgments based on my appearance alone. And before you say it... I already know that I am the one who causes that.

And now, I have had yet another profound realization about the man I am and always have been. And I find it somewhat eye-opening. Specifically; I am and will likely always be a very liberal man. I like tattoos and body piercing. I have a slight bent toward the wild side of life, I enjoy a good party and the occasional night of debauchery with the boys. I drink, I smoke, I cuss like a sailor, I don't give a rat's ass if my kids end up with someone black, white, or green. Or find themselves in love with a man, woman, or one-legged Bohemian pigmy. I'd rather put my kids in a public school in a diverse region, rather than a private school where everyone looks the same. I represent myself as a "motorcycle enthusiast" but let's face it... I'm a biker. I get on my soap box about a number of social indices and at times do so quite angrily.

Yet I am exceedingly drawn to those who are humble and conservative in nature. Those who have a strong moral base, are educated, well-spoken, and model their lives by doing the "right thing" even when doing so is also the most difficult thing. If we are to be defined by the company we keep, I prefer to keep the company of decent, morally-correct, intelligent people who put their children and their parents first.

So the summary of this little discovery about myself is, I am by design, one from the "other side of the tracks" yet I prefer to surround myself by those who are from the "right side of the tracks." Which is why my closest friends and the lady with whom I am romantically involved are awesome people who are those that I am very proud to be around. And my kids... well, my kids are simply the best, morally correct, intelligent people a man could ever ask for.

Wow... I kind of went on a bit of a tangent didn't I?

Parenting through divorce

Parenting through divorce

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Uncontested divorce

Uncontested divorce

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Who says it's too soon?

Who says it's too soon?

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The day is coming

I knew eventually I would have to meet face-to-face with my future ex-wife. And I knew that the prospect of doing so would be cause for a certain level of ill-feeling on my part. Well that face-to-face has been scheduled, prompted by her, for next week. And already I'm uneasy. The intelligent part of me knows, since she specifically requested a personal meeting that she is likely to be presenting me with something. Paperwork, a filing decree, some sort of official document that will finally start the process and make a meaningful move toward our eventual divorce. Maybe I'm being sued. She said that it's likely be on a ten or fifteen minute conversation. Which only reinforces my belief that her intent isn't really a conversation but to present me with something official.

Whatever it is, whatever the purpose for her need to have this meeting be face-to-face, I am left wondering. I have about eight million things running around in my head and I'm just a bit dizzy. She said that she wants to discuss, "our relative situations and futures." What the heck does that mean? I can express our relative situations and futures in the space of one sentence; We're getting divorced, life will be rough, we will survive and move on and into a life that is better for each of us. What else is there?

Whatever it is, I am now going to be moving through this week in a state of nervousness that I have grown to really hate. I'm not accustomed to the anticipation of something unpleasant. I remember when this whole dam separation thing started I was a wreck. I wasn't looking forward to being alone, of having to reinvent my life, or having to learn how to be okay with it being just me. Today it's much different. Today my only desire is to get through this divorce so I can finally move forward with my life. In spite of the fact that I am in my own place and living as I please, I still feel as though I'm trapped in a sort of limbo while awaiting the final and official dissolution of my marriage. And because of that, all I want is for it to be over. So perhaps this face-to-face will finally mark the start of that process. I suppose I'll be finding out soon enough.

My first face-to-face since moving out

This weekend I had to drop off some equipment with the soon-to-be-ex. We are both in the technical business and the equipment in question was some stuff that I had borrowed. Since it belonged to her, and since I finished with it, it was time to return it.

Not wanting to drive to her place, and not wanting her to come to mine, we arranged a mutually inconvenient location for the drop off and agreed to meet at 11:00 o'clock Saturday morning. We made that arrangement last week and the entire time leading up to our meeting had be filled with an anxiety whose basis is still very difficult for me to articulate. What I knew was that the prospect of seeing her face-to-face, for the first time since I moved out, was enough to cause my stomach to churn and my entire body to be filled with an overproduction of adrenaline. I was stressed as hell!

So the time came. My plan was to arrive at exactly 11:00, to hand her the equipment, and then to simply turn and walk away. When I got there, I saw that she had already arrived and was sitting in her car. I pulled up, pulled out the equipment walked to the driver's window and noticed something... she changed her hair color. And in spite of the fact that I am not one who leans toward her particular style... it looked good. I gave her the equipment, muttered something about the configuration and before I could turn and walk away (as planned) she started her car and just pulled out.

So there I was... standing there watching her pull out and wondering why, if my plan was to make a quick exit, did it bug me that SHE did? The good news however, was that the angst and stress, the overproduction of adrenaline, all abated instantly. As I watched her drive away, I felt my body return to normal. And once out of sight, it was as though I had never even been in contact with her. So while it bugged me that she made a quick exit (maybe because I wanted to be the one to do so), I was grateful for the very quick face-to-face and proceeded with the rest of my day.

As I sit here typing the only thing that sticks in my mind is simply her new hair color. Interesting...

The value of good people

I have friends and family and ultimately, people who are close to me. Those who are privy to all the good, bad, and ugly that are associated to my life. And they, oft times aid in keeping me up, occasionally HOLDING me up when I'm incapable of doing it myself. These are the people I value.

But - yes there's a "but" - while I love and respect those who would put their own "stuff" aside in the spirit of providing a shoulder and pair of ears to me, I also find that I have grown very tired of leaning on people. Or more accurately stated, I'm tired of HAVING to lean on people. I hate that this stupid separation/divorce thing dominates my thoughts, my heart, my life.

I have intentionally tried my best to back off. To stop crying on a friend's shoulder. To maneuver away from this being the one thing I talk about. My life is filled with all sorts of stuff. I ride a motorcycle and am immersed in the motorcycling culture, I enjoy wood-working (albeit beginner in my skill), I love writing, I have two incredible adult kids who have successes and failures of their own and I am right beside them, I have my work and my hobbies, I am enjoying wonderful experiences with a wonderful lady. Yet I seem to be incapable of sharing all this with those who are important to me in favor of boo-hoo'ing about my marital woes. It's gotten old and it frustrates me that a sensible man such as myself is incapable of steering away from it all.

I've also learned that there is a cost to "backing it off."

My dearest friend, "B", is a person with whom I chat a couple times each week is likely the single person on earth that knows just about everything there is to know about me. I have spent a lot of time leaning on "B" and have grown so tired of it that I have intentionally done my best to steer away from crying on her shoulder. She has expressed her concern that while I seem to be just fine when chatting with her, she learns by reading my blog that I'm not all that fine. She said, "How is it that you hold back from talking to me about these things yet have no problem putting it up on the internet?!" The message here is she should learn about me before the rest of the world does. In this context I agree.

My lady-friend has also experienced a similar event. In my post, Finally worried, I noted that I am worried about a lot of things. And she told me she had no idea I was going through that and expressed her concern that I have not talked about it with her. Again it's a case of sharing with the important people rather than them learning by reading something on the internet. And again, I agree.

So the need for balance is ever present. The important people in my life deserve to receive an elevated level of witness to my life. Yet those same people have lives of their own and things they themselves would like to share. It's important to me that I can share a variety of life experiences with them. Theirs and mine. So the order of the day, at least for the present moment, is balance.

Finally worried

For almost a full week, I have enjoyed a good run of really good days. So good that I have not felt the need to sit and write. Which is my personal catharsis. I have spent time with cool people, taken part in one of my favorite pastimes, started organizing my garage/workshop, jumped into other unrelated writing projects. It's a very liberating feeling not to be bogged down by depression, or loneliness, or boredom.

However, I've noticed something about myself that has changed specifically due to the situation in which I find my life. I used to be a person who never experienced the emotion of "worry." Certainly, I have been concerned about things, or scared over something, and the like. But I have never had anything keep me up at night, or dominate my mind. This has had others accuse me of simply not caring. I never worried about anything because I have always had the sense that no matter how hard things get, there will be an end to them.

Now however, I worry. A lot. I worry about screwing up my finances, or about feeding myself, or forgetting to take care of something important... a host of things. And currently, given that I have lived through a handful of really good and worry-free days I am now waiting for the other shoe to fall. I'm level-headed enough to realize this is likely just another "symptom" of the emotional journey on which my marital end is taking me. But I still have that nagging at me and it's not a very nice feeling. I'm wondering what awaits.

Yesterday, after leaving my office I noticed that as I drew closer to home, my anxiousness also grew. By the time I pulled up to the house my stomach was churning and I actually didn't want to go inside. Which is a very weird thing considering that I live alone. It's not like I'm going to find some big hairy thing waiting for me. Checking the mail was something I had to force myself to do. While I don't understand where that's coming from, it's a very real feeling and something that I simply couldn't shake. I eventually left the house.

So what's the take-away message? That even when I'm feeling really good, I'm also feeling like crap. And THAT sucks...

The saga continues: Second guessing myself

It's tough enough accepting the failure with my now second marriage. My heart, my ego, my self-worth have all taken a hit such that I have a very hard time accepting a simple compliment as real. I question everything I do and still feel as though I'm living someone else's life. This couldn't possibly be happening to me! Add to this the business end of divorce and the resultant hit I have taken on everything from my heart to my psyche has me spinning! Achieving a simple balance right now is a daunting and seemingly untenable task. Yet here I am, dealing with the part I thought would be easy.

I am torn between being a good person and at the same time taking care of me and protecting myself from loss or financial hardship. At times these are two conflicting concerns. And in those moments I find myself floundering. Emotions get in the way of pragmatism and I'm left with a great deal of indecision. Even when I declare my position clearly and marked as final, I still second guess myself. I still contend however, that one of the most difficult things a person must do is knowingly cause harm to a person they care for. Even if it happens to be in the spirit of protecting myself and my interests.

My wife of course isn't happy with my position. That's to be expected but in her efforts to get me to reconsider, I'm left emotionally drained. This is just the beginning leg of what promisses to be an emotionally debilitating event in my life. Something for which I am terribly unprepared... Sigh.

The business of divorce

It would seem that the newest phase in this ridiculous process called "the end of my marriage" is upon me and even at the beginning stages I am already nervous. In my post, Money Matters  I made the comment that I am just fine with going through the negotiations. Well the honest truth is I'm not really. This is already proving to be an extreme emotional exercise.

Given the tone of our most recent exchange (email) I have the impression that she is being counseled. This is evidenced by her careful use of language in her queries. Now I say again, one can only respect the fact that her efforts are to protect herself and walk away from this unscathed (or as close to that as possible). I'm of the same mind and so should anyone going through this. However, I have never been very adept at being a cut-throat jerk. Though it seems I have to be exactly that else I will walk away from this with my ass missing. And... well... I have grown rather fond of my ass and I'd kind of like to keep it.

I won't go into details of these negotiations. That part isn't important to this post. What strikes me though is that she and I at one point were in love, united, and committed to stepping through life side-by-side as a loyal partnership whose primary cause was to protect each other. Today we are on opposite sides of the arena and while I don't want to cause her harm, it appears I will need to in my effort to protect myself from harm.

How did this happen? I don't remember crossing the threshold that separates companion from foe. I think one of the most difficult things a human being must do is knowingly cause damage to a person he loves. Again, something in which I lack skill. This is where being the "sensitive guy" that most recognize me as, works against me. I'm not ashamed at all to point out the fact that I am a crier. I cry at sad movies, I cried at my wedding (both of them), I cried when my kids and grandkids were borne, I cried when my daughter left for her European adventure. Get the point? I am certain that at a time where strength and great resolve is required, I will falter, cry, show weakness that I fear will be exploited to her gain. And I can't abide that. My stomach is churning with an over-production of adrenaline and all I really want to do is have this over and done.

Wish me luck, send me good energies, ask the universe to have my back, and pray that I walk away from this with minimal pain and bruising.

Keeping a journal

I've mentioned that one of the primary reasons for my having started this blog is the cathartic value. That value has manifested itself in a number of ways. I find as I write and thereby relive the topic of the day, I can feel the pain and anguish spill out of me. There have been times that while typing, I'd be driven to tears and would stop long enough to collect myself. These tears were the physical part of the release. It's as if committing it to the pages of the blog, our journal, or whatever, lifted it out of me and stored it somewhere else. Somewhere outside of me. And in so doing I was freed from that small bit of yuk.

There have also been times that it inspired others to reach out to me, to ask me questions, to commiserate, to let me know that by reading something of mine, they were moved to tears but more importantly, that they got the sense they weren't alone. This in turn actually does my heart a lot of good. To know that I am able to touch another, no matter how largely or small, is very humbling and I am filled with an enormous gratitude.

In recent days I have gone back and read what I've posted. With each read, I am either moved to tears once again, or inspired. I look at one particular feeling I experienced on one particular day and think about what I'm feeling right now. Is it the same? Have I moved away or beyond it? Have I grown? Depending on what I happen to be reading, my response to it varies. In some cases I am simply reminded that I need to remain focused on my personal healing. In others I see strong evidence that I am not as "healed" as I had thought. Yet there are others where I believe I'm doing pretty dam well. And there are pieces that give strong indication of the mistakes I make while trying to get better.

It's hard for me to admit that I need to "heal." The term conjures visions of something bleeding and gross. I don't like that my heart is roped into that description. I realize that I have a very long way to go before I can honestly and completely say that I'm okay. I'd like to believe that I am moving forward, even with baby-steps. I suspect the day that I am actually and honestly "okay" in its truest sense, will be the day that I stop writing this blog. I don't know that this is exactly what will happen... I don't know that it won't. I just know that writing has helped me in this journey and will do so until I've reached the final destination.

With this in mind, I encourage everyone to journal their experiences in this time of great pain. I started this blog on a suggestion that the journaling would be helpful... I can say with absolute conviction... it has. And why should I be the only one who enjoys such a wonderful benefit?

My life is on hold until further notice

In the wake of my separation, I have adopted a vey singular life. I live alone and am now recognized as a single man. Any significant plans that I am making (or attempting to make) are done so with the understanding that it's just me. I am seeing one very special lady, as would any single man whose found himself drawn to such a special woman. I am, for all intents and purposes a single man.

Yet I'm still married.

I realize that there has been no material movement toward truly becoming a single man. My wife, who initially seemed very anxious to get things moving had made it clear she was moving forward with preparations for an uncontested divorce and that she would advise me as the progress. She conveyed a sense of urgency that caused me to believe I'd have seen something by now. Yet I have heard nothing on the subject. We are instead taking care of the business of disconnecting from each other in the context of the business that is our respective lives. The house is in her name, there are no longer joint checking or savings accounts, there has become a clear separation in things like the credit cards, auto club and insurance, pink slips for the vehicles etc. And we are filing what will be our last joint tax return. Yet no movement on the divorce itself.

I've come to the realization that I am stuck in between married and single... limbo. And as such I am unable to execute anything materially in the spirit of moving my life in any particular direction. There is a very real physical manifestation of the resulting stand-still. My stomach is in knots and churns uncomfortably. For days I have held on the brink of a migraine. My lower back, where I tent to carry my stress has been intruded upon with a persistent dull ache. I've become terribly restless. I try to ignore these physical responses in the hope that they will simply go away. They have not.

Now, I suppose I could start the proceedings since she isn't. But for some unidentifiable reason I feel as though that would be rocking the boat. Something I don't feel terribly compelled to do. I should not worry about how this would affect her. I should simply be worried about how I am going to take care of me and what the best method for that would be. Yet I am very nearly paralyzed into inaction. And the paralysis in and of itself is cause for even greater stress.

I am grateful for an upcoming event with the support group. Right now I really need to surround myself with others who get it and can offer some advice, guidance, or what appears to be a much needed kick in the pants. But the truth is I have no idea where to begin.

What her name does to me

There was a time, in recent past that if I saw an incoming email from her I'd actually become excited and drop everything I was doing to click on it. It was a source of great joy and executing that little action was always one of the more pleasing events of my day. However now, when I see her name pop up on my incoming email list I am filled with angst. The adrenaline starts coursing, my stomach becomes knotted and slightly queasy, I falter as I reach for the mouse.

Such was the case this morning. I stopped at my favorite coffee shop on my way to work. Since the line was rather long I took that opportunity to check email on my iPhone. And in amongst the list of incoming messages I saw her name. It used to be that her messages would be the ones I viewed first, without fail. This time however I avoided it and instead looked at all the others. Including the ones known to be spam. When at last the only one left was hers it was my turn at the register. Whew!

I didn't look at her email until I actually got into my office. The bummer is that the drive in was wrecked because all I could think about was that I had her email waiting for me. Angst, nervous anticipation (not the good kind), a feeling of dread, avoidance. How is it that her very name has such power over me? When I finally opened it and read her message I was both relieved and upset. Her tone was dry, the subject matter was limited to taking care of business. There was neither anger nor sadness nor inquiry as to my state of being. Just business. As I said, this was both a relief and a bit of a sting.

I reluctantly replied. Addressing only the business about which she wrote. But my closing was "I hope you're doing okay." Why? Well... because I hope she's doing okay. In spite of the heart ache and the difficulties and the acceptance of my time to move on, I still care for her and likely will continue for some indefinite period of time. Outwardly I pretend to be indifferent to her and what she may be up to. The truth however is that I am incapable of indifference. No matter what the conditions surrounding our split, no matter the hurt that has come from it or its finality, she and I shared a relationship that is set apart from any other relationship. History. At some level a sustained connection.

This is going to be very weird for me to say... I hope she and I can be friends (I'll save this issue for another post).

Normalcy

For the entire length of today I have been in very good spirits. I woke up in a great mood, I've been fairly productive at work, I've enjoyed some rather nice weather. I am in actual fact, absent any emotionally charged, sad experiences. No heartbreaking discoveries, no weird revelations that immobilize me, no tears, no sadness about my crappy little life. I have only a single observation.

Not at all surprising is the fact that my life these days is in a constant state of reinvention. Each day brings with it new experiences and new opportunities to learn something about myself, or to take part in something I would not have otherwise. The world is currently at my feet just waiting for me to pick something up and play with it. I am free to be anyone I want and free to do anything that captures my interest. Pretty cool in my humble opinion.

But as with all things, this cuts two ways. My day-to-day is unpredictable. My daily life is absent any sense of routine or dare I say it, normalcy. I live alone. Which translates to no one depends on me to feed them, monitor their work, make sure they are performing their chores, need to roust out of bed to get their day going. I don't make plans on what to fix for dinner and my days are not filled with errands like grocery shopping, the cleaners, laundry. The only thing in my life that has any sense of routine is that I work Monday through Friday during normal business hours. Beyond that everything is in a constant state of "new".

For the most part my days are in constant motion and filled to the brim with something new to do. Certainly my emotional state somewhat requires this because as I've mentioned before, idle time messes with my delicate psyche. But the end of my work day constantly brings something new into which I must pour myself. And the result is I have no real routine. Before my wife and I split up my days were very much the same. I'd get up, get ready, go to work, end my day, go home, watch the news and then Two and a Half Men, have dinner, tinker on one of my projects, and then go to bed. While that sounds mundane, it was how I enjoyed living. I am a basic man and enjoy living a basic life.

My heart's desire is to create a life of normalcy, routine, predictability. For me there is tremendous value in knowing what to expect at the end of my day, my week, whatever. I hear others who view their own daily routine as representative of some boring or undesirable life. I view it as representative of a normal life. And a normal life is very desirable. Don't get me wrong... I love new and exciting adventures. But not as the standard itinerary of life.

Chelsea King

Clearly this has nothing to do with my miniscule little issues. Instead I want to issue my heartfelt condolences to the family of Chelsea King, the Poway teen who went missing days ago while out for a run. Sadly, her body was found today. You can read the story here.

I'm deeply saddened at the fact that we live in a rather messed up world. My prayers for the family are all I can offer... but tragically they aren't enough.