more on the being single

My personal life is embarrassing to write about. I am completely aware that having been married for so long, I am somewhat immature to the ways of adult relationships. It’s like a bizarre gap in my knowledge (and I pride myself on the knowledge of many topics) . To this end, I am admittedly green and self-conscious about my actions when it comes to relationships, but I’m learning.
I’ve operated on the idea for a long time that when you’re into someone, or alternately, them into you, it’s instant, you know right away where you stand. But in the dating world, I often don’t know where I stand and get impatient enough to just end it before the other person does. That action alone seems immature, but in my reality it is necessary.
As for being single, I’ve noticed the men I’ve been involved with falling in to 2 categories. The forever bachelor is under 35 and rhapsodizes about parenthood, but in reality is not interested in a relationship. They seem to be still swinging singles as their outlook is quite young and inexperienced. I'm attracted to the aspect of fun but find that I hide parts of myself to accommodate the light and breezy personality. It's feels forced and fake like I'm acting, and doing it badly.
The second category is the broken-hearted-but-still-standing. Over 40, divorced, maybe has kids, maybe not, either way, they are too distressed by their breakup to fall into anything serious. I’m attracted to someone who has had similar experiences but the too-broken-to-try just leaves me empty and dissatisfied.
Needless to say, there have been no winners so far, but some interesting experiences. I’m slowly becoming adept at guarding my heart and dealing with attachment, or rather not becoming attached in the emotional sense. Nothing I’ve been involved with has really gone past the 2-month mark. Having few previous experiences before marriage has put me on the learning curve of defining this single life of mine. Resounding in my head is the line a married friend gave me recently, "you're so lucky, you get to have a do-over." But will the do-over result in Mr. Perfect?

Blame the Meds

Being strong wears me down. It can become too much to bear and I crumble on occasion, biting my lip to sting me back into reality. “You have to stay strong” It’s a mantra during these fleeting yet overwhelming moments.
They are new to me and come in a surprising manner, like a hula-hoop that is slipping off my hips. I wonder if it’s the natural process of trying to create a new life, the obvious fear of the unknown, to which I usually sally forth?
Sometimes I wonder if they have something to do with my medication. I imagine the TV ad—May cause an inability to deal with children. Tendency to get teary when couples walk by holding hands. May lament cooking fantastic meals with no one to share them with. May attract emotionally unavailable men. —Check.
It’s a humorous caveat. I get to blame a lot on the meds.

Six shooter

As January draws to a predictably depressing close I admit I entered the New Year encumbered by too much. As much as I tried, the feelings were hard to shed and I’ve proceeded with my pistol, troubleshooting my way toward some sort of solace.

My anxiety around the trip to see D and the X went as expected. I had to deal with being in a place that had previously brought great joy, I got married there, had many happy moments, and now it reflected only pain, having my stroke there, breaking up there. It was also the house I’ve lived in the longest in my life. Not staying there, viewing it as no longer mine, along with a lifestyle that was not longer mine, was hard to swallow. I had intended to avoid the house altogether as I was staying at a nearby hotel. But D wanted me to be there and I felt fine being there, until it hit me each time, this irrepressible urge to flee, which I did. I couldn’t stand seeing things I bought, the blanket from my trip to Havana, the tray that was a gift from a visiting friend, and of course, my beloved doggy. As I jokingly say to people, the X got custody of him.

As for D, she was happy to see me, but gave it to me in her usual way, through tantrums and oppositional behaviour. On day 2 I had to honestly admit to the X that I was not sure I could deal with her, she was pretty overwhelming. The feelings around this are hard to bear for a mother. I feel guilt that I can’t handle my kid, no matter how needy she may be. I want to do whatever it takes to make her better, but at the same time I am faced with the fact that I am marginally recovered. I’m still dealing with chronic pain, high blood pressure and medication management. The X pointed this out upon my return. He wanted to discuss the reality of what I was able to do ie. Was raising 2 children, one diagnosed with anxiety and very needy, a realistic possibility?

His heart is absolutely in the right place. He is trying to do right by me, right by the kids. But I boomerang back to one of the reasons I split; I have always raised the kids. When he is not around (most of the time) I perceive an out of sight, out of mind scenario with him. I bear the brunt of child raising and there is little he can do to help. Now that he has had D for a few months, he is connected to the process, and perhaps is getting a glimpse and a new outlook.

But the reality of his involvement is the real question. He has no intention of living in the same city as us (work is prohibitive), quitting his current job is a pipe dream that he dangles as some kind of martyrdom (he'd be miserable). Alternately, I want the best for my children always. Subverting my own needs is how I have always lived. The thought now that it may be bad for my health leaves me in a quandary.

Ultimately, and somewhat predictably, my plan is to enlist more supportive resources, for both the children and myself and hopefully that plan will work. We have always led an unconventional life, and my health seems to force that to continue. We all seem weak right now. I can only hope it will make us stronger.

Twenty Ten

It looked like my New Year would come in like a lamb. I was wrapped in my kimono, sipping on bubbly, intent on watching the ball drop on TV, when my friend called and insisted I come out. It was nice to ring in the new decade with friends after all. Though I missed my children terribly.

This first day of the year I woke up with one thing in mind; do not have exasperating conversations with the X anymore. These have generally been made up of things said over and over between us, it’s pointless now, everything has been said. And if it hasn’t, it is useless to say it. There is no end goal. I am at the point that if I hear him repeat things again I just might scream.

The other negative I am willing to drop is my attitude towards his girlfriend. She is minor and a part of his life I am no longer privy to. When I focus on mothering I realize that she has little influence if any, on the bond between the kids and I. It’s an opportunity to strengthen my connection especially when they are away from me.

As many do at this time of year, I see my blessings clearly. I am lucky in so many ways. The kids are growing up in a way that is delightful, even within its challenges. I’m glad to have them as my tribe. I include the rest of my family and close friends within this group. I am truly blessed to have this entourage parade in my mind. I never feel lonely because of them.

I might sound like I’m 80 when I say this, but every morning I feel lucky to be alive. There is a resolve to try harder at remaining healthy. I have all the resolutions that most people have today; exercise more, drink less alcohol. But there is also the big one, live every day as if it’s my last.

Mother's guilt

I have mother’s guilt. I was not there for my child’s big moment. Indeed there are many big moments in a child’s life, teeth lost, presents unwrapped, good report cards and school plays. The X has missed many. Last night I missed one, the only one ever. D was performing in a show, she begged me to come, didn’t understand why I couldn’t. Needless to say, it felt awful.

To compound it, SHE was there. There were also others, family and friends to cheer D on, but it feels worse because of this particular presence. I don’t feel bitter, just annoyed.

The evening continued with bizarreness. There were some confusing feelings between myself and who I am know going to refer to as L. We were at dinner and his X walked in. He claims it was fine, but her vibe was clearly venomous. I knew exactly what she was feeling. It’s hard to see someone you loved for so long with another person. I don’t think he has settled on what his relationship with her should be. And I know, that is a daunting task to balance on an ever-changing scale.

I felt inundated with a myriad of relationships. For one day, and I will make sure, one day only, there were at the forefront of my mind. By the time they had settled from their chaotic dance, I was in desperate need of validation. An old friend came through and took me to the movies. That helped.

New Year, New Moon tonight, hold tight.

Fight or Flight

I learned long ago to never tell any one person everything. I no longer blurt out everything about myself to a new person. Truth be told, there is now just too much in my long life to tell. But my recent events over the last couple years are overwhelming.

It is to this point that I keep things close to my chest. Unfortunately there is just so much information that I still come across as “intense” and certainly complicated. As people get to know me I think they can predict how I will react, how I will be. This part I can’t hide. The details become less important. As much as I feel I have held back information, it really doesn’t matter to those that have gotten to know me.

New relationships are tricky. Not just with my so-called baggage, but because they seem expendable. I am more willing to quit them if they are not working for me. While I would never do this with an old friend, the ones that have truly been through it with me, it seems easy to end situations where I feel misunderstood.

I question myself on the self-serving part of this. Gratification is nice. I don’t consider myself a taker, but when a friendship becomes unequal, I lose interest. Perhaps it has to do with the profound neglect I experienced with the X. That certainly felt unequal. And as a result I want nothing to do with that feeling again.

I’m in a new situation now. There seems to be some struggle to define it, it’s clearly not a true relationship as there are many outside complications from both sides. My own, which I’ve understated, his own, which I find myself giving more credence to. I cringe when I realize this.

Looking objectively the whole thing seems messy and just too much. It seriously makes me wonder whether anything will come easy in my personal life or if I should just commit to become a cat lady....with dogs.

The Holidays

So far so good on remaining drama-free for the holidays. I am cruising through unscathed and trying my darnedest to remain so. It is not without some significant effort and spectacular acting ability that I’m getting through.

The X has just had his girlfriend arrive at our house, now his house, on the island. Our kids are with him. On video chat I put on my brave face and deliver my positive message like a Prime Minister to his citizens. All will be well my people. Their little faces search me for meaning and all I can do is encourage the change. I say things like “sounds like fun having more people there. This is a good time to get to know her.” Of course I inwardly cringe, but I try my best not to let them see that. I dread meeting her by video camera.

The X led me to believe she would be there over Christmas. This took months for me to reconcile in my mind, the idea that she would be there opening gifts with my kids. I don’t know why I feel more significance with this act than any other. Could be my obsession with all things Christmas and the traditions we made and have now lost. I found out a couple of weeks ago that she would arrive after, and for some reason, this made me feel better. It meant she was spending the holiday with her family, not mine.

I can’t help but feel possessive. It’s the mothering instinct. It’s interesting to me that the kids are still my first priority after being told by a couples therapist years ago that my spousal relationship should come first. This was a concept I found hard to grasp, and apparently, still do. It’s hard to imagine anyone coming before them. This may be to my detriment, that my personal life will forever remain separate from my relationship with them.

Any idea of someone blending in with us is really hard to imagine. It seems incredibly far away, if it even exists at all.