Dave moved out two months ago.
Overall, I think I’m doing ok. I get through my days. I’m doing a pretty good job at work, apparently. My manager is pleased with what I’m doing. And I’m lucky that I love my job enough that I can sort of immerse myself in various projects and forget about everything in my “real life” for hours at a time. That helps a lot.
But Lucy still isn’t sleeping, so I’m tired a lot. And I worry about Catie. I’m so glad my mom is here, because it keeps me from feeling lonely. We watch TV together, plan meals together, that kind of thing. It’s nice.
So, you know, I feel like I’m getting by ok.
And then, suddenly, I’ll be hit with this wave of sadness so hard that it feels like I’m drowning in it. The other night it hit me because I caught myself starting to fiddle with my wedding ring, only to realize it isn’t there anymore. (I do that a lot. I never realized how often I touched it every day until I stopped wearing it.) (I took it off the day after he moved out. I know some people take a long time before they can take off their wedding rings. I… needed to not look at it anymore, if that makes sense.)
I don’t want him back. Really, I don’t. The past several months have been so awful, there’s no way I would voluntarily go back to that. I don’t like roller coasters – literal or emotional – and now that he’s gone, things feel calmer. More steady. And that’s what I need right now, both for myself and for my girls.
And I’m realizing all kinds of things about myself now that I never realized. Like the fact that I bottled up so many things for years, because I hated the idea of conflict, and I never wanted to fight. Now it’s all sort of exploding out of me. I don’t think I could go back to bottling it up again if I tried. I’m feeling sort of like the Pandora’s box of emotions, to use a really bad analogy.
But even though I don’t want him back, sometimes I still miss him. We had these inside jokes, as you do when you live with someone for over six years. We made each other laugh a lot. I miss that. I miss the connection.
And yet… Sometimes I can envision what my life is going to be like in the future. And it’s not the future I had in mind at all, but I see myself with my girls, and I see us in our own little house, doing our own thing. Going on outings and vacations together, just the three of us. And I know we’re going to be ok. I really do know that.
But man, transitions really do suck.
Transitions do suck!! You are doing a great job. I’m so proud of you!! Love ya!! XOXO
Yeah, the transitions are hard. You’re in my prayers. Keep up the good work.
This is something I could have written, almost word for word, a year ago.
This is the rough part, it is. And there is no getting around that.
But once you’re past it, there is a great new life, a new beginning waiting for you. And it’s yours to do anything with it.
Transitions are always the hardest. I think about you and the girls all the time. I’m so glad you are doing okay. Hard days are going to be there, they are normal, but I’m glad you have good days too. Love you guys and I know your future is going to be great because you have those 2 beautiful girls and they have you.
i’m not sure how i came across you and your blog…but my heart breaks for you and your girls; particularly Catie.
i live in NC…Cary…if you ever need to talk, need a friend, a local “aunt” or “granny” for your girls…please feel free to reach out to me.
i know that sounds creepy…but really i’m not too creepy…LOL
i have so many things i would love to say about your situation…none of them too nice about him.
you are doing fine…just one day at a time…that’s all you can do.
I can’t imagine going through all this with a baby and a preschooler. I really admire you. Especially your courage to blog about it. Carrying you and your girls in my heart.
So beautiful & heartbreaking, my love. You are so strong.
I’m still available to go junk punch him. Or just egg his car. LOL
Cindy, I am so sorry and hope that the transition is as smooth as possible. I am around, for playdates, coffee or whatnot.