Well, it’s official.
My husband was able to get approved for an apartment. He moves out August 17th. Even though I keep being told that at some point this will be a Very Good Thing and even I used to think so too, all I do is cry these days.
I don’t want him back. I don’t want to work on the problems that led us to this place, because I have been trying for years to no avail.
But it hurts like hell. The same kind of deep pain I felt when someone I loved has died.
When we were new parents, we were full of love and wonder at the babies we made. And they were beautiful, and so smart. And we made them, together. We may have messed everything else up, but we were so lucky to have our lovely daughters.
My husband was once my safe harbor in the storm. Until he became the storm that threatened to smash my boat to pieces.
We believed we’d grow old together and have a strong family that nothing could break down. I even left my career so that I could devote my time to my family, because I wanted it to stay strong and my husband and I rarely saw each other because I worked days and he worked nights. I thought that was the right thing to do.
But little by little, a nightmare took over.
Serious problems arose.
Resentment and anger replaced hope and joy. It began to choke out Love and caused tremendous self-doubt and anxiety and fear in it’s wake.
I blame myself for a lot of what went wrong. Even though some part of me knows it’s not all my fault.
I have tremendous guilt that I didn’t try harder. And that my girls have to go through this pain, too. And watch their mama cry helplessly sometimes. Because I don’t know how I’m going to handle it all by myself. Working, taking care of them and housework.
My middle daughter told me yesterday, “Mama, don’t worry, we’ll help you take care of the house”.
And that made me cry even harder.
And I did this to them. I am making their lives so much harder because I couldn’t figure out how to make things work with my husband.
Depression is a bastard and makes you believe a lot of things that are not true. I worry that some of the things I’m thinking are the beginnings of a depressive phase.
I hope not.
I don’t reach out when that happens.
Please, send some good vibes and energy my way because I need to find out how I’m going to work at my job where I get in at 5 am more and more these days, stand for 8-12 hours a day and come home and take care of the house and the girls and run them where they need to go and not collapse from exhaustion all the time. The Hashimoto’s thyroiditis does not help my energy levels at all.
Though even though I knew it was coming, and tried to prepare myself for it, nothing really could prepare me for the pain I am feeling. Maybe because all this came to reality during the month of July – when both my 18 year anniversary came and went, and my 45th birthday is coming around the corner. It was normally my favorite month of the year.
And now? I’m just trying to keep myself together.
Because the crying isn’t comforting. It just makes me have a grief hangover.
Anyway, I guess that’s it. Thanks for listening…