what goes down…

…must come up. And it has.

March/April was awful. I was already getting anxiety over money/no full-time job and feeling pretty lonely most days, especially weekends. Then my mum died and everything came crashing down around me. I had reached a point where, if it wasn’t for my kids, I would have bolted off somewhere remote and hid.  Everything seemed to be against me and not in the usual way but, literally, one thing after another went wrong, down to fines for the bloody DartCharge. I kept saying, ‘What next?’ and then something else would happen. I really felt like the forces were working against me — it felt that bad.

I thought long and hard about it and realised I needed to learn from it. I needed to see what it was teaching me. I felt like I had been stripped bare, especially emotionally, and I recalled part of the Buddha’s story about taking away what we treasure most to learn the biggest lessons. This resonated and I tried to accept that what was happening was mostly out of my control and I needed to use it to learn and become better.

With that acceptance and change of attitude came a change in life. The fines and charges were dropped, I got a job offer (which I’m accepting) and I started to feel I could look to the future with hope.

I feel like it’s time for a new stage in life. This will involve a lot of letting go and I know that’s going to be hard. But, I am making plans. Plans for my own health and well-being, plans for my career, plans to find a peace.

the semi-detached woman

It’s been fairly crappy since I left my husband, as you’d expect. The hardest thing has been coping financially and realising that you are back to the financial status of your early twenties but with three kids, a mortgage and an established lifestyle to rethink.

It’s also pretty lonely. Not the being on my own, so much, but not having anyone to laugh with, share the burdens of parenting or make Sunday lunch for. Not that we laughed much anyway. Or talked much, for that matter — hence my current status.

Also, because it was me that broke up the marriage, so comes an incredible amount of guilt and responsibility, which is pretty overwhelming for much the time. You feel you have no right to complain about anything because you brought it upon yourself (and others). Of course, my common sense and my best friends remind me how unhappy the marriage was and that I have been lonely and sad for nearly ten years. It was nobody’s fault, as such; nobody did anything that was singularly terrible. But years of not speaking, not listening and not (it seemed) liking each other, takes its toll. There was simply one day when I couldn’t do it any more. And I left.

Luckily, we are on amicable terms (which, ironically,  makes it harder for the kids to understand why we are apart) but it has been a year and a half now things are just a bit odd.

I am in the process of reverting to my maiden name which, to be fair, I wish I had never changed. I did it because everybody did, but it’s not actually something I agree with. Don’t get me wrong, each to their own, but I want my own identity and the one given to me by my parents. My dad died seventeen years ago and (as the family has worked out)  there is nobody left to carry on his name, so I feel I want to for as long as I can. And, psychologically, it feels like I am wholly going back to being ‘me’ and its a person I need to say hello to again — introduce the older, supposedly wiser version of myself and amalgamate the two.

I have an interview for a new job on Wednesday, which I am desperate to get. It would mean full-time work and bills/rent would be eased. Trying to cope on a part-time wage in a full-time economy is proving trying. I also need the change to really start afresh, in name and aspirations. I need to provide for my kids and build myself a new life. I turned 45 last month and so I am pretty much exactly half way through my life (should I be so fortunate to last that long). That means I’ve got the chance to do it all again (kinda). I want to look forward and not back. See the possibilities rather than the regrets.

Need to keep telling myself that.