Something about last night's blog is bothering me, gnawing at my brain, scratching the back of my neck like a tag on a t-shirt.
I want to read and spend some time with my thoughts today trying to figure it out.
For some reason, the word "ashamed" keeps coming to my mind, but maybe it's "embarrassed" or "exhausted".
I think, just maybe, I'm growing tired of whining.
I think, just maybe, I know change is imminent.
And lately, it feels more like an inner change than anything else.
Just maybe...
In 2010, I turned 40 and spent a great part of that year figuring out some serious stuff in my life. Newly 42, I'm still on the path of discovery but feel I've come quite far. This tiny space is my save haven, one of the only places I can come to work through my worries, fears, exaltations, and endeavors. Thank you to those who've helped me along the way and those of you who stop by to read my crazy thoughts. Enjoy!
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Monday, August 30, 2010
Finding Forty, Day 94; Like A Bird
Last night, I asked A where his head was. What he was thinking about us, what he was feeling. I just had to. Things for me lately had felt so clinical, so emotionless, I just needed to know his perspective on it.
I'm glad I asked.
We talked about Friday night's incident. He was hot and tired, simple as that. I was having fun and didn't want to leave, simple as that. Simple, right? You'd think. But for us, it's not.
I questioned why he didn't tell me goodbye personally. He questioned why I didn't get up and walk him out. It didn't occur to me until today, but he has never asked for that sort of attention from me. As for me, it's all I've ever asked him for. I doubt I bring that up to him tonight, but still.
What he said about the last few weeks was that when I am busy and not crying about S all the time, he can be satisfied with our "okay" existence. I don't think he called it "okay", but it was something along those lines. Something like...."marginal", "makeshift", "average" relationship.
For him, no tears from me, no drama, means that he can just plod along in a semi happy state for however long.
For me, the past few weeks have just been like treading water. And I'm getting tired.
Without anger or harsh words on either part, he told me that he's angry that it feels like he has to kiss my ass when I was the one who cheated. He resents me, I know. He said that he doesn't care about my car that I bought myself (my first ever) and will only help me when I specifically ask. Truth be told, I've been trying to take care of it all on my own, but I did have to ask him to follow me to the dealership on Saturday morning while I dropped it off to be serviced. Guess I should have asked a friend. What would I do if I were actually single? He also, basically, said he has built a wall around himself to protect himself from me. Those words smart and sting, but I also think he's a wise man.
We also talked about the depth of our friendship and the absolute belief we have in one another.
And I do believe in him. I do.
I just don't know what that makes him to me or me to him.
As we were beginning to drift off to sleep, finally, after midnight, I realized something. This marginal existence, where he doesn't feel pressured or particularly angry or overwhelmingly sad by my longing for S, with me being busy with work (in years past it was with pregnancy and babies and toddlers and preschoolers), this "preoccupied Kate", has allowed him to just live and be, without being too encumbered by my emotions.
And this is precisely what led us to the affair in the first place. Him accepting the status quo and me being numbed and repelled by it.
I told him this.
He heard me.
I have no idea what happens next.
I wept today as I drove home, during the time when S and I used to talk on the phone every afternoon.
The lyrics from the radio pouring into me, washing over my still broken heart, trying to gel with my confused and mixed up head.
All I could hear was this...
I'm glad I asked.
We talked about Friday night's incident. He was hot and tired, simple as that. I was having fun and didn't want to leave, simple as that. Simple, right? You'd think. But for us, it's not.
I questioned why he didn't tell me goodbye personally. He questioned why I didn't get up and walk him out. It didn't occur to me until today, but he has never asked for that sort of attention from me. As for me, it's all I've ever asked him for. I doubt I bring that up to him tonight, but still.
What he said about the last few weeks was that when I am busy and not crying about S all the time, he can be satisfied with our "okay" existence. I don't think he called it "okay", but it was something along those lines. Something like...."marginal", "makeshift", "average" relationship.
For him, no tears from me, no drama, means that he can just plod along in a semi happy state for however long.
For me, the past few weeks have just been like treading water. And I'm getting tired.
Without anger or harsh words on either part, he told me that he's angry that it feels like he has to kiss my ass when I was the one who cheated. He resents me, I know. He said that he doesn't care about my car that I bought myself (my first ever) and will only help me when I specifically ask. Truth be told, I've been trying to take care of it all on my own, but I did have to ask him to follow me to the dealership on Saturday morning while I dropped it off to be serviced. Guess I should have asked a friend. What would I do if I were actually single? He also, basically, said he has built a wall around himself to protect himself from me. Those words smart and sting, but I also think he's a wise man.
We also talked about the depth of our friendship and the absolute belief we have in one another.
And I do believe in him. I do.
I just don't know what that makes him to me or me to him.
As we were beginning to drift off to sleep, finally, after midnight, I realized something. This marginal existence, where he doesn't feel pressured or particularly angry or overwhelmingly sad by my longing for S, with me being busy with work (in years past it was with pregnancy and babies and toddlers and preschoolers), this "preoccupied Kate", has allowed him to just live and be, without being too encumbered by my emotions.
And this is precisely what led us to the affair in the first place. Him accepting the status quo and me being numbed and repelled by it.
I told him this.
He heard me.
I have no idea what happens next.
I wept today as I drove home, during the time when S and I used to talk on the phone every afternoon.
The lyrics from the radio pouring into me, washing over my still broken heart, trying to gel with my confused and mixed up head.
All I could hear was this...
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Finding Forty, Day 93; Aimless
What am I? Very deep question and one I'm not prepared to answer today. What I mean by this question is, how am I feeling lately?
The past few days, I feel like something floating in water, being pushed along with the current, twirling and moving, being held up by the rocks or pieces of wood protruding through the surface of the water.
Am I a leaf that gingerly fell from a tree? A twig from a branch? A piece of paper than accidentally fluttered into the water, littering the surface? I can't pinpoint. I just feel the push of the current, the force of the flow and on days like today, I feel helpless to anything but succumbing to the pull.
Friday night, A hurt my feelings and made me mad. As usual, our neighbors had everyone over for pot luck dinner, laughter and hours of fun. I got to their house at 6, thinking that A would be there shortly after. He'd been home from work for hours, as he was the one to pick the kids up from school that day.
On an aside, we never arrive at the same time because with me being the extrovert, I enjoy getting to their house as soon as possible to start socializing. As an introvert, A likes to get home from work, shower, spend some time alone and then he'll head over with the dog. It's not unusual for more than an hour to pass before he shows up.
Friday was no different. When he finally arrived, as usual, we continued to do our own thing. I've told him that I like it when he comes up to me and acknowledges my presence. I like it when he will kiss my cheek, hug me, or touch me in some small way. That rarely happens. I usually attempt to shrug it off, knowing that sort of thing is hard for him to do.
Many of us were sitting outside while the grill was on, talking and enjoying ourselves. A didn't want to be out there. At one point, I looked up and realized he was nowhere to be found. The dog was still there, but A was gone.
I texted but got no response. Finally, I called our house. He answered and explained he'd gone home to check on one of our sons who was grounded. That made sense, but I expected him to be back soon. Nope, it was another 30 minutes or so before he showed up.
And when he did finally walk out to the porch where everyone had then congregated, he had the dog on the leash and I knew immediately what that meant.
As he walked towards us, he proclaimed, "I'm calling it a night. I want to go sit in the air conditioning."
He didn't stop at me to kiss my cheek. He didn't lean over to tell me goodbye. He didn't ask if I was ready to come home or say that he'd like me to join him soon. Nothing. He didn't even really look at me.
Am I wrong for that to make me sad? Is this the punishment I get for having the affair? The thing is, I think things have always been that way between us and it's just magnified now because I had the affair. Or maybe I'm finally articulating what I need and want.
As I looked around the table, at the other couples, I realized one friend was sitting in her husband's lap, and the other two couples were sitting next to one another.
I was the only spouse out there alone.
I had to get up and go to the bathroom to cry. My reality just hurts sometimes.
After the tears were shed, I did feel a bit better and I rejoined the party and ended up staying several hours more. I danced, laughed some more, and had a really good time.
It was too late to talk to A about things when I got home that night, and I sort of touched on them a bit yesterday, but I don't know if there is anything really to say.
He knows what I want and feel like I need and I know that he isn't willing or able to give that. At least not in those situations.
I either have to accept things as they are or make the decision to do something about it.
But for now, I guess I'll just aimlessly float.
The past few days, I feel like something floating in water, being pushed along with the current, twirling and moving, being held up by the rocks or pieces of wood protruding through the surface of the water.
Am I a leaf that gingerly fell from a tree? A twig from a branch? A piece of paper than accidentally fluttered into the water, littering the surface? I can't pinpoint. I just feel the push of the current, the force of the flow and on days like today, I feel helpless to anything but succumbing to the pull.
Friday night, A hurt my feelings and made me mad. As usual, our neighbors had everyone over for pot luck dinner, laughter and hours of fun. I got to their house at 6, thinking that A would be there shortly after. He'd been home from work for hours, as he was the one to pick the kids up from school that day.
On an aside, we never arrive at the same time because with me being the extrovert, I enjoy getting to their house as soon as possible to start socializing. As an introvert, A likes to get home from work, shower, spend some time alone and then he'll head over with the dog. It's not unusual for more than an hour to pass before he shows up.
Friday was no different. When he finally arrived, as usual, we continued to do our own thing. I've told him that I like it when he comes up to me and acknowledges my presence. I like it when he will kiss my cheek, hug me, or touch me in some small way. That rarely happens. I usually attempt to shrug it off, knowing that sort of thing is hard for him to do.
Many of us were sitting outside while the grill was on, talking and enjoying ourselves. A didn't want to be out there. At one point, I looked up and realized he was nowhere to be found. The dog was still there, but A was gone.
I texted but got no response. Finally, I called our house. He answered and explained he'd gone home to check on one of our sons who was grounded. That made sense, but I expected him to be back soon. Nope, it was another 30 minutes or so before he showed up.
And when he did finally walk out to the porch where everyone had then congregated, he had the dog on the leash and I knew immediately what that meant.
As he walked towards us, he proclaimed, "I'm calling it a night. I want to go sit in the air conditioning."
He didn't stop at me to kiss my cheek. He didn't lean over to tell me goodbye. He didn't ask if I was ready to come home or say that he'd like me to join him soon. Nothing. He didn't even really look at me.
Am I wrong for that to make me sad? Is this the punishment I get for having the affair? The thing is, I think things have always been that way between us and it's just magnified now because I had the affair. Or maybe I'm finally articulating what I need and want.
As I looked around the table, at the other couples, I realized one friend was sitting in her husband's lap, and the other two couples were sitting next to one another.
I was the only spouse out there alone.
I had to get up and go to the bathroom to cry. My reality just hurts sometimes.
After the tears were shed, I did feel a bit better and I rejoined the party and ended up staying several hours more. I danced, laughed some more, and had a really good time.
It was too late to talk to A about things when I got home that night, and I sort of touched on them a bit yesterday, but I don't know if there is anything really to say.
He knows what I want and feel like I need and I know that he isn't willing or able to give that. At least not in those situations.
I either have to accept things as they are or make the decision to do something about it.
But for now, I guess I'll just aimlessly float.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Finding Forty, Day 90; A British Invasion of my Head
Tonight I feel a bit like the Beatles (and when you read Beatles you have to say it with an accent, please). You know..."The Bee-Tulls".
I'm here, there, and everywhere and I'm not talking about my 'love'.
I'm talking about my head, my thoughts.
Writing tonight is just a joke, really.
Do I write about A's visit to the bankruptcy attorney today? Yes, he went today but I'm not ready to dissect it all. At this point in time, surprisingly, I have fairly neutral thoughts on it.
Do I write about the fact that I have a new, healthy obsession in my life? No, it's not Tofurkey, although during one of my vegan stints in life, I actually ate that for Thanksgiving Dinner. The newest passion is the chance I have to teach reading and thinking about it is consuming many of my thoughts.
Do I write about the stomach thing I have going on that, I kid you not, feels like I have a 5 month old fetus dancing in my uterus? I am not pregnant and certainly if I were to miraculously be am not far enough along to feel a baby's feet pressing on me from the inside out. And yet, that is precisely what this feels like. It's freaky bizarre. Could I have been ravaged by an alien in my sleep? It would totally blow if I had, I mean, who'd want to miss alien sex?
Where do I start? What do I say?
Focus, Kate, focus!
Maybe it's best that I just admit that I'm too scattered tonight to be of much good.
So, to sum it up. My Beatles state of mind finds me unsure about my financial future, unsure about my marital future, unsure about how to teach reading ( but excited nonetheless) and unsure if I actually had sex with an alien and am now carrying around an E.T. fetus. Wow, it's no wonder I'm a bit discombobulated.
Despite all this uncertainty, though, tonight I'm in love with me and...I Feel Fine
I'm here, there, and everywhere and I'm not talking about my 'love'.
I'm talking about my head, my thoughts.
Writing tonight is just a joke, really.
Do I write about A's visit to the bankruptcy attorney today? Yes, he went today but I'm not ready to dissect it all. At this point in time, surprisingly, I have fairly neutral thoughts on it.
Do I write about the fact that I have a new, healthy obsession in my life? No, it's not Tofurkey, although during one of my vegan stints in life, I actually ate that for Thanksgiving Dinner. The newest passion is the chance I have to teach reading and thinking about it is consuming many of my thoughts.
Do I write about the stomach thing I have going on that, I kid you not, feels like I have a 5 month old fetus dancing in my uterus? I am not pregnant and certainly if I were to miraculously be am not far enough along to feel a baby's feet pressing on me from the inside out. And yet, that is precisely what this feels like. It's freaky bizarre. Could I have been ravaged by an alien in my sleep? It would totally blow if I had, I mean, who'd want to miss alien sex?
Where do I start? What do I say?
Focus, Kate, focus!
Maybe it's best that I just admit that I'm too scattered tonight to be of much good.
So, to sum it up. My Beatles state of mind finds me unsure about my financial future, unsure about my marital future, unsure about how to teach reading ( but excited nonetheless) and unsure if I actually had sex with an alien and am now carrying around an E.T. fetus. Wow, it's no wonder I'm a bit discombobulated.
Despite all this uncertainty, though, tonight I'm in love with me and...I Feel Fine
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Finding Forty, Day 89; Heartbreak
Sometimes I read a Blogspot forum. It's this place where bloggers gather to shoot the shit and promote their blogs.
For a few months now, I've been trying to "fit in" and be accepted, but I can't really seem to break any ground.
In the past, it might have bothered me, but I've come to just accept it. I continue to banter like I'm one of the guys and post as if it might actually matter.
Either way, I enjoy it there, so for me, it's all good.
Today there was a forum thread entitled, "People Enjoy Talking bout romance in general- Question. what's your heartbreak story?"
For a few months now, I've been trying to "fit in" and be accepted, but I can't really seem to break any ground.
In the past, it might have bothered me, but I've come to just accept it. I continue to banter like I'm one of the guys and post as if it might actually matter.
Either way, I enjoy it there, so for me, it's all good.
Today there was a forum thread entitled, "People Enjoy Talking bout romance in general- Question. what's your heartbreak story?"
Well, you know, immediately I was smitten.
Heartbreak has been the defining state of my life for the past year.
I just had to tell my story.
You all have heard it before, but this is the condensed version I posted tonight:
Never dated in high school.
Started dated at the end of my Sr. year, ended up marrying him. He was good. Smart, funny, hard working....all those things that I thought would make a great spouse and father to my kids. And they did.
Except, at 18...I didn't know shit. I wasn't being true to what I needed/wanted to thrive.
So... (and yes, I'm an ass and will take any slaying dished out), 21 years into our relationship, I had an affair with an old friend. A friend from high school. A former roommate of hubbies from college.
I'd made out with him once when I was 18 (after I'd just started dating future hubby), sparred with him when he was a roomie of hubbie's, but then not seen him again really until our 20 year h.s. reunion.
Sparks flew, emails ensued, and then we took it across the line.
And I fell for him, head over hills.
For the first time in my life, I was free, I was ME. I loved him with every fiber of my being and it felt more right (despite how wrong it was) than anything I'd ever known.
I was willing to hurt others because I thought, in the end, true love would prevail.
Then, after telling me he wanted me and that we must be together, he decided to stay with his wife.
And yet, he continued to talk to me and email and see me if I was in town for another 8 months.
This June, he pulled the plug.
Said we were no more and that I must stop thinking of him. We were done, over, forever.
He even told me all the things he'd said to me were lies.
SO....
Here I am, 40 years old, going through my FIRST heartbreak ever. I'm married with 3 kids. My husband knows about this all.
You can imagine how shitty things are.
And yet, my heart continues to break.
I would have NEVER done what I did had I not thought it was for real.
Naively, I thought that if we ended our marriages to be together for TRUE and lasting, forever love, it would even out in the end.
But apparently, I was in a totally different relationship than him.
And I deal with that heartbreak daily.
Each and every minute.
I feel like such an idiot.
And I do.
And yet, I think of S each and every day.
I just can't quit yet.
His birthday is coming up soon and I think of him. I wonder what he's doing, how his life is going, if I'll ever see him again and if I do, what would we say.
I don't like that I'm this way, but I am. I still miss him. Even on my busy, crazy days.
Even when the sun tries to convince me not to.
Even still.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Finding Forty, Day 88; Warmth
I've been reading The Tao of Inner Peace. It's a beautiful book that speaks to me, but it is slow reading. I feel like I have to read each passage and then reread it again to make sure I fully absorb the true meaning of the words. This isn't a chore for me though. I am so enamored by the message, I am more than willing to take it in again and again and even again.
One of the principles of Taoism is to become one with nature, which always gives me pause. I'm not what I would call an outdoorsy girl who loves animals and hiking for hours.
And yet, I do love nature. I've been having a love affair with the sun all my life. These days, we rendezvouz in the mornings. As I drive to work, heading east, the sun is my beacon. I love driving my sporty, little, non soccer mom car as fast as I can without attracting attention from the police while blaring my favorite tunes. This little ritual is always likely to put me in a good mood (provided some sappy, ridiculous love song about broken hearts doesn't find its way onto my iPod shuffle).
As I exit onto the neighboring freeway, with the sun rising ahead of me, I feel a surge of happiness, a surge of hope. To veer right and take the "big" bridge would steer me towards S, but I remain steadfast and always make my way to work.
The sun shines for me. I can hear her urging me, "Stay strong, my love, stay true. My rays will warm you and you will be alright."
It sounds hokey as I type this, but I honesty do feel this way.
This bliss lasts for less than 5 minutes, but the strength of it is strong enough to see me through, at least for the morning hours.
As the day drones on, admittedly, this celestial high burns away, but I can always anticipate tomorrow's view, tomorrow's hope, tomorrow's promise...the promise that I am loved, I am strong, and I will be just fine...even all alone.
These things warm me.
One of the principles of Taoism is to become one with nature, which always gives me pause. I'm not what I would call an outdoorsy girl who loves animals and hiking for hours.
And yet, I do love nature. I've been having a love affair with the sun all my life. These days, we rendezvouz in the mornings. As I drive to work, heading east, the sun is my beacon. I love driving my sporty, little, non soccer mom car as fast as I can without attracting attention from the police while blaring my favorite tunes. This little ritual is always likely to put me in a good mood (provided some sappy, ridiculous love song about broken hearts doesn't find its way onto my iPod shuffle).
As I exit onto the neighboring freeway, with the sun rising ahead of me, I feel a surge of happiness, a surge of hope. To veer right and take the "big" bridge would steer me towards S, but I remain steadfast and always make my way to work.
The sun shines for me. I can hear her urging me, "Stay strong, my love, stay true. My rays will warm you and you will be alright."
It sounds hokey as I type this, but I honesty do feel this way.
This bliss lasts for less than 5 minutes, but the strength of it is strong enough to see me through, at least for the morning hours.
As the day drones on, admittedly, this celestial high burns away, but I can always anticipate tomorrow's view, tomorrow's hope, tomorrow's promise...the promise that I am loved, I am strong, and I will be just fine...even all alone.
These things warm me.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Finding Forty, Day 87: Boys Town
Busy day here. The kids start school tomorrow and in all honesty, I'm thankful and happy.
Darling son #3 has been experimenting all summer. Apparently, when left to his own devices he will get as creative as the sun gets hot.
He's taken scissors to his own hair (bangs and crown), drawn faces on several of his sport socks and stuffed them with leaves, stapled them shut and then stapled them onto the structure he was building for his soon to be acquired pet, taken scissors to his own pajama pants and cut a swatch out of them, tried to freeze honey with an action figure perched in it, and really...I could go on and on.
Son #1 told me today that he felt like he wasted his summer playing video games (he did). He also said that he felt like I didn't want him around much of the summer (I didn't) and yet hearing that verbalized cut me to the core. I love him, my first born. He's amazing and funny and smart and surprisingly enough, he's even sweet. I've been savoring him this past week and it's been nice. I can't believe he begins the 8th grade tomorrow.
Little middle son is my lost son, or so I tend to believe. He seems to always be the one lost in the shuffle, never causing quite enough of a stir as his bookend brothers to get noticed. And yet, he's our rock. Our dependable, old soul who sees us through.
I love my boys. I want nothing more for them than a life full of happiness, health, and the best there is to offer. I want them to learn to live authentically, to believe in themselves, to LOVE themselves, for they are far more amazing than I'm even able to convey.
I worry I've done them a disservice this year. Being so self absorbed has robbed them of valuable life time. And yet, I know that until I'm healed or on the mend, I have little to nothing to offer.
Tomorrow starts a new school year and in many ways a new way for us to start fresh.
A visits the bankruptcy attorney on Thursday (thank goodness) and after that we shall know more.
I've been content for several days in a row now, but I worry it's just me biding my time. I feel cracks in my surface.
Either way, we soldier on. I'm trying harder than ever to focus on the important things in my life. My kids.
My self.
We'll all be good, this I know.
Darling son #3 has been experimenting all summer. Apparently, when left to his own devices he will get as creative as the sun gets hot.
He's taken scissors to his own hair (bangs and crown), drawn faces on several of his sport socks and stuffed them with leaves, stapled them shut and then stapled them onto the structure he was building for his soon to be acquired pet, taken scissors to his own pajama pants and cut a swatch out of them, tried to freeze honey with an action figure perched in it, and really...I could go on and on.
Son #1 told me today that he felt like he wasted his summer playing video games (he did). He also said that he felt like I didn't want him around much of the summer (I didn't) and yet hearing that verbalized cut me to the core. I love him, my first born. He's amazing and funny and smart and surprisingly enough, he's even sweet. I've been savoring him this past week and it's been nice. I can't believe he begins the 8th grade tomorrow.
Little middle son is my lost son, or so I tend to believe. He seems to always be the one lost in the shuffle, never causing quite enough of a stir as his bookend brothers to get noticed. And yet, he's our rock. Our dependable, old soul who sees us through.
I love my boys. I want nothing more for them than a life full of happiness, health, and the best there is to offer. I want them to learn to live authentically, to believe in themselves, to LOVE themselves, for they are far more amazing than I'm even able to convey.
I worry I've done them a disservice this year. Being so self absorbed has robbed them of valuable life time. And yet, I know that until I'm healed or on the mend, I have little to nothing to offer.
Tomorrow starts a new school year and in many ways a new way for us to start fresh.
A visits the bankruptcy attorney on Thursday (thank goodness) and after that we shall know more.
I've been content for several days in a row now, but I worry it's just me biding my time. I feel cracks in my surface.
Either way, we soldier on. I'm trying harder than ever to focus on the important things in my life. My kids.
My self.
We'll all be good, this I know.
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