Time Heals (cliche 103)

I have simmered down, as I knew I would. Some free time to think, days on my own as the kids have left to visit their father for a while. It feels good, this time to ponder, figure out how to move forward. It’s less a “how” and more a “be”, if that makes any sense. I am not planning anything, just having a sense of the moment and defining it for myself.

I have put the X in perspective. What I truly feel, and as usual I may just be convincing myself of this, is that extraneous circumstances will prevent us from ever evolving. His work and travel, my health resulting in a grounding (in every sense of the word), just compounds everything. The stars and the universe just aren’t in alignment for us.

This helps me move on and not think about any possibilities with him. It compartmentalizes what he is and who he is to me. I can label our relationship, at this point—parents—and recognize it within the structure of what society says X husbands should be. It will take acceptance on my part, as he has certainly been more to me over this last year.

To see and realize that this is the only way for me to move on, move forward, forces me to stop thinking about how this should go. The fact is, it’s gone. The time is passing. And every reference to time in a bad situation is true. It does heal.

Seeing Red

Suddenly I am supposed to be understanding of a concept that has previously been an unacknowledged rule. That is, the introducing of the children to people we’re seeing. Seeing, seeing, I’m seeing red.

Apparently I should allow my kids to take a trip with the X to a foreign country where he will introduce them to his girlfriend of 1 month, possibly 2, I really don’t know. I am NOT cool with it. They are going to visit him and I requested that he please send them home before this planned trip.

His response? To tell D, who is 9 years old, that mommy says you can’t come on this trip, so our visit will be shorter. Yeah, that’s right. I have bent over backwards to keep my kids out of my private life. The couple of people I’ve dated only met the kids in passing, never in a formal way, and never with any consistent time spent with them.

When these relationships ended, it was the one thing I felt confident about. The kids had no connection to that person so it didn’t affect them. Needless to say, I just feel so angry, and to be honest, it’s a first. I have been pretty easy going with him through this. For the most part, going along with what he has suggested.

Now I just feel so incredibly done. I don’t feel a kinship at the moment at all. At the moment I just want him out of my life, and preferably as far away as possible.

The anger could indeed be read as unrealized feelings. And that is true. I spent the better part of the last few months being more open and emotional with him than I ever had. To hear he was dating would have been fine, to hear he was in a relationship, ok, to be told he wants the kids to meet her just killed me.

I’m sure my anger will dissipate. But the truth is, it’s just another signpost for me to move forward. In a substantial and meaningful way. And that is my frame of mind, not about him, or his relationship to us, but us, the three of us. Because now more than ever, that is how it feels it has always and evermore shall be.

Feet on the ground

For a long time I pursued flight and speed. I loved to run, ski, and jump as high as possible in any jazz choreography. I liked my feet off the ground. It felt good to do it and much of it was for fun but a lot was for keeping in shape. That changed.

Just before my illness I used those activities for emotional release. I remember at one point just running until my chest heaved and I felt like my heart would burst. I even contemplated what might happen if I did collapse since I was alone. I didn’t care. The pressures I felt seemed so enormous. The physical became less of an issue, I had lost lots of weight from the stress , but I kept running.

Flight indeed. I was trying to run away from everything. Who knew that within weeks I would be grounded in a major way. After my stroke I was paralyzed on my right side initially, then just weakened. I was in a wheelchair for 2 months and had to learn how to sit up, get out of the hospital bed and eventually relearn how to walk. That process, as determined as I was, took longer than I expected.

Physical recovery still continues for me. I’m happy to be mobile and regular yoga classes help, but I still feel grounded. I dance at parties, but I keep my feet still. I dream of running, I dream of flying. When the pressures get too great, they are just another thing I have to work out in a different way, because not only is my body different, but my mind is too.

I can’t run away anymore. I dismiss the feeling the minute it creeps up. I don’t really have a choice but to face things head on. So I do, and it is starting to come automatically to me. With my feet firmly planted.

Kids are #1

To top off my fantastic week (the X dating, me not) I am in crisis with my youngest, D. She is in severe anxiety mode and hasn’t gone to school in days. I pushed her at first that was horrible, for both her and myself. I was racked with guilt from threatening punishments and yelling for her to go.

Now that I’ve taken a step back, she seems perfectly fine just staying at home. The school isn’t concerned because the year is almost over and I’m quite pleased with the harmony between us. Of course the one major overriding issue is that she won’t leave the house. She spends her days painting, playing dolls and dressing up virtual dolls on the computer.

The X feels extra guilt about it (hmmm…wonder why?) and has moved into his black and white response to things. By that I mean, trying to take control of the situation as he sees fit. So for a couple of days the idea of her going to live with him next year was floating around. I think we have agreed (after much arguing…discussion) that the pros to her staying with me and her sister outweigh the cons of her going to him.

It has been illuminated to me in the past months, that she has a real worry about me being sick. If I have a headache, she worries about it, if I need to rest, she wakes me up. She doesn’t like when I leave or if she has to go somewhere. It’s separation anxiety I suppose but between a 9 year old and a mother who is a stroke survivor.

I am not ignoring this one bit. In fact it is my main priority at the moment. A professional will see her this week and we will try to get some of her issues resolved and back on track. The idea is to get her through summer holidays then we will set up an ongoing counseling situation. Poor thing, she really is just a tiny person.

Single defined

It started out as I imagined it should be, that is, fairly typical for a single gal. I met a great guy, totally made a connection with him. Barely had to wait a day for him to contact me, let him make all the first moves, ask me out, lean in for a kiss.

The first date was truly magical and will go down in history as certainly one of the most romantic. A picnic in the park, he brought the blanket and gin and tonics. The conversation flowed and the evening would have been fine ending that way, but it ended with the sweetest kiss.

Two dates later, ugh, rejection is embarrassing. He was completely honest with me, a pre- existing situation he had to see out. He wasn’t making a choice, just couldn’t do both, blah blah, break my heart. Basically, I felt deflated.

Is the only way to view it the stereotypical way? He’s just not that into you. I saw the film, it struck a chord. Of course I will go on, I have been through way harder things. But this was different, I could see the potential. Now I’m just worried I’ll be one of those single women who feels connected every time, and cries over each and every loss. I can't exist in that pathetic path.

I liked someone then had to deal with having the potential yanked from my grasp. It stung. But there are other things in life than those that may or may not be meant to be.

Hate to say it, but it's a breakthrough

I have just received some information that should have sent me over the edge. The good news is that it didn’t. In fact I handled it positively, with a respectable response. I am talking about my X telling me he is seeing someone.

This is something I suspected over the last month, and actually asked him about, but he was trying to be tactful as I was dealing with so much emotionally at the time, that he denied it. Not vehemently I might add, which of course cemented it further for me.

When he actually told me my heart leapt to my mouth and I just wanted to go home and cry. But that was reactionary. I thought more about it and realized that I felt a huge relief from this news. I felt released and free. His happiness was no longer my responsibility and he wholeheartedly deserved some loving.

I told him that I want him to be happy and for whatever it’s worth, he had my blessing. I should add that previously on the two occasions that I started dating someone he completely flipped out, and the last time, he called the lawyers and began the legal process. This is something that is dragging on even though we are on the same page with it.

The heaviness of guilt that I have had for so long is gone. It sincerely feels like a weight has lifted that reveals a lightness that I haven’t had for ages. I like it. I feel good. He absolutely deserves something good at this point.

Now that I have embraced this decision to face this not only maturely, but also in a way that is conducive to moving forward myself, I have to remind myself that this is real change. This is how our lives are now. It finally feels separate.

Medical Rant

I feel like I’ve been through the wringer with the medical runaround lately. First of all, I spent a good couple of weeks incapacitated with headaches and high blood pressure, filled with anxiety that another stroke was coming. I couldn’t drive, I lay in bed and at one point didn’t eat for 2 days. After seeing all my doctors, they decided that it was stress and fatigue. It had been the lead up to the stroke anniversary and I guess I had put a lot of pressure on myself about it.

Then the aha moment. I have a documented history of low tolerance to medication. Everything I take is started at a low dose and is increased only incrementally. I filled out a new prescription at my local pharmacy for my chronic pain medication. Turns out I was taking 300mg more than I should have been. My headaches coincided with taking this, which I didn’t discover until I had been on them for 3 weeks. By the time I did, my body had become used to it and the headaches were easing off.

It was a relief to realize I had not really regressed. The anxiety of having another stroke was diminished significantly after this episode as well. The doctors all assured me that the chance of having another one, specifically because of the type of stroke I had, was very slim. I have felt much better since. And am so back on track with my exercise and in general, with my life moving along.

The next highly irritating occurrence was with Blue Cross. I had extended travel insurance that should have covered at least part of my one-week stay in hospital in the Bahamas. The agents are now telling me I didn’t actually have extended insurance (3 months travel at a time) I only had the basic coverage (15 days). So the upshot is, I have already paid the hospital bill in the Bahamas, so it’s a done deal and I won’t get any money back. Bastards.

I moved back to Canada because of OHIP (that’s socialized medicine to my US friends). I have been happy for most of it, I know how the system works now, though I am still trying to work it to the best of my ability. If I was still in New York I can’t even fathom the total of what this would have cost.

So factoring in the overall potential cost of everything up to this point easily makes the the Bahamas hospital bill seem negligible, but it’s irritating nonetheless.