5 months...

Five months ago I moved out of the house and fell into an emotional morass that threatened to engulf me. I've had some bad days...I've had some VERY bad days (the last one being April 17th when I cried for about 10 straight hours, had to leave work early because I totally fell apart, and eventually cried myself to sleep)...I've had some good days, I've had some VERY good days, the one that I think of most recently was Tuesday, May 7th, the first time I've thought that life was good in MONTHS. 

I'm coming through it, I'm surviving, and after survival comes thriving as I grow and adapt to my new life...as I create what I want my life to be on the blank canvas of my new life, starting with a new job that pays better and is a tad less stressful, which I begin on May 16th.

May it only get better...

4 Months...

I've been on my own for 4 months now. Some things are going swimmingly. Some things are emotionally difficult to the max. Some days I stumble, some days I fall. I always claw my way back up, though, and stagger on. I know this will get easier...I know this with my rational brain. But my heart? My heart thinks I've died most days...

I repeat this litany: I think I can, I think I can, I think I can...

Once upon a time...

I kissed a man...and my life was forever changed...

I had been married twice. I had loved, I thought, much. But this relationship unlocked a side of me I never realized I had. It was volcanic, passionate...It obstructed my ability to see much that I should have seen.

It was long lasting. We've been together 22 years through so much good and bad and pain and joy. And it endured. A volcanic flame of passion that defined me and molded me and focused me. 

Even after "the confession" the passion remained. We separated and the loneliness was so intense, I was sure I'd never survive the rest of my life without him. I cried a lot. I longed to go back, to go home. I thought of all the ways I could have "done/been" more. Different makeup/hair/clothing. More sexual/lose weight/talk more/talk less. On and on the endless litany in my head even though I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that none of those things would have made a smidgen of difference because his passion had waned many years ago. 

And then, the man made a deal with "the woman" in the South...and I was almost consumed with anger. For days the anger burned. For days I could not have looked him in the eyes...

And when the anger left me...I looked around and all I saw was ash. The ash of our life. The ash of my consuming "in love" for him. The ash of my passion. 

I was both bereft, and liberated. Don't get me wrong, I still love my husband and I probably always will. But that being in love passion that drove me for 22 years, didn't survive the inferno. I can look at him now and he's just a person. 

It's hard to explain this unless you've been in a relationship where the passion burned hot and long and always. I couldn't look at him without desiring him. I can now. That is why I am bereft. I feel I've lost the magical something that defined us...

But it's also liberating. Because NOW I can finally be OK with moving on. I can build a life without looking back in longing. Without crying every time we have contact and nothing emotional happens. 

I am free...

Two months...

It's getting easier to be alone. I've learned to cope with the lack of noise and to create my own noise when I need it. I'm more comfortable in the apartment. I've come to grips with my inner noise, my struggle to understand myself, my relationship and my relational failure. Those are some interestingly intense inner conversations, often journaled out to keep me sane...

I brought home a second kitten to keep my Ms. Kitty company while I work 9 hour days (sometimes 10 hour days). After a life always with MooCow, she was kind of listless, so Maggie has joined our household.

My birthday is this week, and I'm having a gathering, an open house from noon to 9PM so that people I know can wander through on their way to/from places and share a cupcake and some tea. I haven't had a birthday "party" of any kind since I turned 40, and before that not much since I was 21. I picked out a tea party invitation that suited me and I have teacup and teapot cupcake toppers for the cupcakes. I wanted to throw a Tardis themed party, but I couldn't find enough Tardis themed party stuff to do so. I special ordered stamps with teapots on them!!! And they were blue!!! I was so elated! Ahh the little things...

Four weeks...it's been four weeks. It feels like a lifetime.

The quiet no longer jangles my nerves as much as it did. I play a lot of music and the cat helps.

The apartment is coming along. Most of the big stuff has been figured out and I've combed thrift stores on and offline to supplement the furniture I brought with me so that I create a "homey" feel.

I look back at that picture of my kitchen table in the house that I loved and my heart aches...but I don't live there anymore...that kitchen table sits in a different room now, where I play games with family and friends when they come visit. I rarely eat there. Who wants to sit at a big table alone? Only when family/friends come to visit. Then the kitchen is full of the hustle/bustle of "family" and the table is where we all gather and talk and laugh. I like those times...

The cat is still twitchy. Not "every little noise" anymore and not the growling she did at first (I swear I thought I'd brought a puppy with me and I wish I'd recorded her growling it was so funny), but that every big move I make/every loud noise outside jumpy kind of twitchy. At the house she often slept on my hip, now she ALWAYS sleeps on my hip.

We are getting there, she and I...slowly but surely, whether we want to or not.

Quiet & Alone...

Just a month ago I lived in a house with sounds...The husband and two grown boys, their myriad of friends running up/down/in/out. Playing music, watching Rifftrax and Anime...Laughter coming from the basement all the time. 

Now I live alone with my cat. No amount of music played can mimic the noise I lived in. 

In most empty nesting times of life, the kids go off and the husband and wife stay in the house and adapt, together, to the lesser noise. Leave it to me to do it all discombobulated and be the one that left the nest alone.

I'm not sure I will EVER get used to the lack of noise....

One week into my new life...

I've been in my new apartment for 1 week today. It's been an odd, disconcerting feeling to be all alone for the first time in my life...except for my cat, of course.

I've managed to unpack almost everything...I have 6 boxes left with stuff in them. The way I imagined things arranged didn't quite come to fruition. I misjudged room size and baseboard heaters in my original layout in my head, however it came together fairly well in spite of that.

I picked up a second nightstand yesterday, because I needed more drawer space, but I didn't really have room for a dresser. It has 3 drawers and will fit the overflow from the other nightstand perfectly. Then I will move the leaning bookshelf into the kitchen next to the stove, I think, for small appliances.

I love the space and openness of the apartment. The only things I don't like are the lack of counter space in the kitchen, the tight fit of the bathroom (watch your knees people) and the fact that it only has a tub, no shower. I'm still searching for the appropriate "fitting" for the tiny antique spigot so I can at least have a hand held shower head for washing my hair!!!

Emotionally I'm fairly stable, most of the time. I still have crying jags (last night I was sobbing so hard I couldn't drive), but most of the time I'm doing ok. One day at a time...one hour at a time...sometimes one moment at a time...

Because this week was an emotional rollercoaster from hell, I've pretty much eaten junk all week. I am determined not to do that this coming week. I will get my cooking/eating/walking back on track and bring the physical into a better place, which will help the emotional.

I want to thank everyone for their ongoing prayer and support. It means the world to me...