And Life Goes On...

It's been over a month since I published a post. Our lives have been good, lots of ups, a few downs. Of course there has been a lot that has changed in our lives.

Today I'm not in the best of places. I don't feel like sharing. It's not unusual to go thru these things, it's mostly that I am now starting to feel less like an open book. Perhaps I would like to keep much of what happens private.

And there are several reasons for that.

At the same time, I will keep posting here on RP. I will do it because I know my friends who I don't get to see often will check here. I also do it so I have a record of what is going on in our lives. It's important for me not to forget, but also so Oliver can look back some day and see. And in the wee wee chance that I may have a custody battle on my hands some day (I don't anticipate one at this point, but one never knows), this blog is a record of what kind of mother I am. I think I'm a good mom. I know Oliver loves me more than anything. I love him deeply. He is the reason I am still here, on Earth. The painful things I went thru last fall, and the first year or two after my ex-husband left were the hardest things I have ever had to face. I hope and pray to my Dear God that I will never ever have to feel that kind of pain again.

Pain is not inevitable. Of course we will all feel it time to time. I never want to experience pain to the levels of depth that I have last summer/fall. I simply cannot do that. I tolerated it for my son. For the rest of the people in my life — I love you all but your love, kindness and enduring friendship were not motivation enough. Not even the pain you might feel.

Depression is cunning. It's baffling. It does not make sense, it does not talk sense.

What makes sense is the sunlight coming into my living room. My son's pleas for breakfast. His sadness he feels at times for the truly painful things that worry a young boy's heart. School. Teachers. Getting in trouble. Living in two homes. Not feeling good enough. These are somewhat normal for little kids. And to be there for him is why I put one foot in front of the other during that time.

The breakup between me and Bill was harder than my divorce. Oh both were equal in terms of the initial shock. The second breakup was too soon and too similar to the first one. What made it harder was Bill wouldn't speak to me AT ALL, and he threatened me with court. It went from good, to so-so, to good, to we're at a weird place, to maybe we should break up, to normal almost, to nothing. Silence. Then came all the rest of the BS, things I cannot describe here online. There are too many people I know and I wish there was a way for me to remain anonymous so that I could share openly without those who I know thru my career to read.

Does this affect my ability to design? To work? To show up for work? To be fully present at work? Not one bit. Work is what gives me the reason to feel good about who I am as a productive woman. I earn an income. I perform a job, a skill that I'm really good at. I feel good about myself. I am passionate about what I do. I have an opinion, and my opinion helps my clients. I'm alive when I am working. I don't have to deal with any of those thoughts that go thru my head about my personal life. I can talk about my son, about our fun adventures, and about what interests me other than that which ails me.

I long to work at times in an agency again. And yet I like the freedom that owning my own business gives me.

.   .   .   .   .

So why haven't I written and published recently here?

We have been busy with good things. Karate. Turning 7! Soccer. Hot yoga. Painting. Hugging and cuddling and watching shows. Making warmth in the fire place. Keeping our home clean and clutter-free. Cooking. Swimming. Playing.

All sorts of things have kept us busy.

All good stuff.

And yet, one little secret remains. That of my heart healing. The ups and downs. The attempts to understand. The faith I have in God that I am to be right where I am, not to worry, that I will be OK. I am OK. We ARE OK. I still wish I had my happy-ever-after. But I'm willing to wait.

So many have told me that I need to learn to accept myself, love myself, be OK alone.

I fight those things because I feel I am ALONE and have been for quite some time. It's been more than 9 months since break up. Not one single date have I gone on. Not once have I put myself in a position to date. I wanted to heal. I'm still healing.

I don't understand why I still hurt. Why I'd fall back into his arms if only he'd open them for me.

I don't understand those who tell me Jesus has His arms open for me. I pray. I talk to Him. I ask for help. I give thanks, daily. I don't feel His arms too much really. I only trust that He has a plan for me and that I will find love again some day. I ask him to remove the pain, to help me heal, to relieve me of the obsession. He hasn't yet and THAT I do not understand.

I dont understand those who tell me I have low self-esteem. OK great. So what do I do? I take care of myself and my body. I think well of myself. I try hard to focus on my features.

And it all falls flat. All of it. All of the above.

Then I end up here. Here. In this place of doubt. Faithlessness. Hurt. Despair.

Until the sun shines again.

And for a little while I am OK again. I have hope. I have courage. I have esteem.

.   .   .   .   .

I just wish I knew how to get rid of this longing for a man who doesn't love me, never had, and has moved on. Time takes time.

Why is it they don't need that much time? They all move on. Quite quickly I might add.