I have been distant this week. I have not written at all, not even in my journal.
I have been re-reading the advice on this site and Googling every thought that comes in my head. I want to rush recovery but my mind says, “Nope, everything takes time”.
I am past the angry stage (but I reserve the right to be angry again – only for a little while). I am in the denial stage.
Really, really, we are going to be divorced?
Really, my family is not going to make it through this?
Really, I am going to be a single mom?
Really, why doesn’t he love me?
Really, really, this is my life and how did we get to this point?
What was the catalysis for my current state? Our mediation session this past Monday is the reason. The finality of my marriage was made apparent.
This session started off with the child custody discussion. This is where the last one ended. Pap dropped the bomb stating that he did not want to move, yet did not want to lose the relationship he has with Kiddo.
The child shrink told us her expert opinion and after she was done, I took moving off the table. I was hurt and mad. She did state her opinion in that she felt Pap owed it to me to move considering what he did and that him backtracking now could create animosity to build between us.
Umm…divorce…. what’s a bit more animosity?
That Saturday, I got the tattoo I was contemplating getting for over a year. It’s my son’s name in another language on my wrist. I really think this has helped with my anger. Throughout this debacle called the ending of my marriage, I have said and wanted to do what is best for Kiddo. Like a typical mom, my child comes first.
I look at the tattoo and think about him. It helps calm the fire raging inside of me.
So, back to this week’s mediation, tears rolled down my face throughout the child custody discussions. How we will split the cost of his current tuition? How we will split the cost of his college tuition? Half days on the holidays, for now, because he is so young. What time is pick up and drop off? Thankfully Pap did not drop any more surprises and agreement was met on everything.
On a separate note, it takes a special calling to be a divorce mediator or a therapist who works with those going through a divorce. Tears rolled down my face through most of our session, but our mediator never stopped. In fact, I think he sped it up a bit. I am so glad he did not acknowledge my tears; it would have made them worse. Then I wonder does doing this job make their marriages better or worse (both our mediator and my therapist are males and married)? Does seeing others dealing with the pain of a divorce make those in these fields have stronger marriages?
Just a thought….
Near the end, before we moved on to maintenance, aka alimony, my body could take no more. I had to excuse myself. I think I was having a tiny anxiety attack. My heart was blazing. I rushed to the restroom and broke down, silently. I did the “ugly” cry bent over the toilet. This is really happening!
I composed myself and made it through the remainder of the mediation session. Somehow…but…
I am now suffering the lingering effects.
This is the shock and denial that, yes, soon (sooner that originally thought – like this year – in a couple of weeks) my marriage is O-V-E-R. No, I do not want to accept it. I am not at the point of begging Pap and saying let’s do this or that to work on our marriage (been down that route already), but that I just never we thought we would get to this point.
My Positive Mental Attitude did not change the situation. I have read stories where the husband wakes up finally and realizes he DOES love his wife, he wants his family and a transformation occurs and the marriage/relationship becomes stronger and more intimate than prior to the affair and the divorce talks.
I really wonder if such stories are the urban legends of middle-aged women going through a divorce. It happened to a friend’s friend, 2nd cousin type of deal.
Oh, my denial is so deep, that it is only here, hidden behind my anonymity that I can truly say that I still think he could change his mind at any moment. I always told Pap, I would have hope until the ink was dry and that I would sign the papers in erasable ink, just in case.
Then I think, really I am this woman? What happened to the take no crap, tough woman that I thought I was? Where has she gone? I need to find her fast, only one more mediation session to go.
P.S. I’m ready for my new name. Any ideas?