Archives for posts with tag: optimism

Well, it’s been an interesting start to 2016.

Firstly, it all kicked off with yet another argument where I am blamed, the latest being I am trying to take the children away from him.  He seems to overlook the fact that we are talking about ‘children’ aged 19 and 22, who are more than able to make their own decisions.  He kept shouting that I should leave because everything is OK when I’m not there.  And I thought ‘you know, you’re right, I should leave – for my own peace of mind and well-being’ so I did.  I went to stay at my stepmother’s as she was away.

Then, I lost the house I was buying as the vendor decided he wasn’t going to sell.

Then, I got an email from my solicitor saying the Consent Order for the financial arrangement had been approved by the judge and she could now apply for my decree absolute.

Whilst at my stepmother’s, it gave me the time and space to think.  It was lovely returning there after work and being able to relax.  For the first time in ages, I looked forward to going home.  Annd I realised I couldn’t return to the marital home.

My sister works for the estate agents who are selling our house and so I asked them if they could find me a property to rent.  I have a problem going through the normal channels as I’m self employed and can’t provide the required work references.  Her boss has very, very kindly offered me a property he is refurbishing for rental, and at well below the market rental value.  He says he knows I will leave it looking as pristine as it is when I move in because my house is the most immaculate property he has ever taken on.  I move in next week and I am so excited.  It’s is Wimbledon, a very expensive and desirable area that I wouldn’t otherwise even have the slightest chance of living in so it’s going to be an interesting and enjoyable experience.

And because I feel so excited and positive, I know one hundred percent that it is the right thing to do.  I know the girls will visit me;  I am sure they will stay from time to time.  I’ll be able to forget the nonsense and focus on finding somewhere to buy and on becoming myself again.

In the meantime, I am staying with another.

And learning to be me.

 

 

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I find it hard to believe that a whole year has passed and I am still in the same situation, perhaps a bit further down the road but nowhere near as far as I thought I’d be.

I met a friend this week.  In 2015, she managed to get divorced, sell her house, get remarried and buy a house.  And me?  I’m still trying to get divorced, still trying to sell my house, still trying to buy a house.  This time last year, when I looked forward to this time this year, I thought I would be in a different place.  I never dreamt I would be in the same position.

Some things have changed, however.  This time last year, I felt fearful of what the future would hold, how I would feel when my house finally went on the market, whether I would have regrets.  Everything was scary and uncertain.

Everything is still uncertain, but I’m no longer fearful.  I feel positive that I will be able to deal with whatever course the next few months take.  I’m trying not to let my anxieties dominate; I’m not dwelling on the what ifs.  I’m trusting that somehow I will be able to deal with situations as they arise.

My STBX and I are still living under the same roof.  He’s still trying to control me – this week alone, he has complained about me putting things in the bin, saying I’m not adhering to his rules; he’s perpetuating  some kind of ongoing battle about who cooks for our younger daughter (I can’t even be bothered to explain this one); he’s got angry that some of my friends have not included his name on their Christmas cards; he’s accused me of monopolising the children (aged 19 and 22, and adults who can make up their own minds) over Christmas and the New Year.  Whereas in the past I would have got worked up over this, I’m now just tired of dealing with it and let it wash over me.  I see it for what it is: his attempts to get me back under his control.  That’s not going to happen though: I’m done with that.  We should be living separately, then it would be easier, but living together still, I think, leads him to see us as still being together, to see me as his wife (which technically I am, although not for much longer).

The house sale is proceeding so I think it is only a matter of weeks before we go out separate ways.  My purchase is not proceeding so I don’t know where I will go, but I’ll go somewhere.  It will all work out one way or another.

Mentally, I’ve made the break and I’m moving on.  I don’t think he is as far down that road as me.  But that’s a journey he has to make for himself – I’ve spent years feeling responsibile for his happiness and well-being, but it really was never my responsibility.

So I’m sitting here thinking that I should be scared, fearful, anxious, and a whole host of other negative emotions.

Yet I feel calmly confident.

And that’s good.

By the time you read this I will be on our weekend away.

Although I initially didn’t want to go, I’m now looking forward to it: a change of scene, a new experience, a boutique hotel, a top class restaurant – and it’s all free.  I know I’ll enjoy myself because that’s the kind of person I am.

The hotel looks lovely.  It’s got a cocktail bar and music and is in a central location.  I’m packed and ready.

But husband’s been narky today when it would be better if he was at least trying to get the weekend off to a good start, so I’m slightly concerned about ‘us’ when we’re there.  Hopefully, we can maintain a level of civility, but at the moment I just don’t know.  Things seem to be so unpredictable: a bit like good cop, bad cop.

My wise child said it could be make or break.

How true.

 

It’s Saturday night.  I usually go out on a Saturday to a modern jive social event, where I meet friends and dance.  Husband refuses to come; he refuses to go out on a Saturday night, which is why I’ve had to go alone.  To a certain extent, I understand this – he works at the weekend (his choice, however).  Anyway, he’s not entirely happy about me going out and he never asks about my evening or my friends.  It’s as if I have an existence that I have to pretend doesn’t exist.

Tonight I’ve stayed in.  I’m out tomorrow night at a monthly get together and so I didn’t want to cause an argument by going out too often.

He came in and switched on the television.  I fantasised about what it would be like if he came in and said: “Get ready.  Let’s go and do something tonight.”  But I know it won’t happen so why am I always so hopeful and optimistic?

And why do I feel guilty when I go out and leave him behind on his own sitting on the sofa watching TV because honestly I don’t think it really makes any difference whether I’m here or not.