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.