Decisions...Decisions....

It has been almost a year since I decided that my marriage was over.  I spent a year previous to that decision trying to decide... in pain, riddled with guilt and trying to make a decision.  It was a year that I feel was wasted.  Or was it?  I've asked myself a million times if I could have saved myself and others close to me, the terrible toll of the pain and anguish?  Would things be any different if I had just walked away without that terrible year of indecision?  The price was huge.  Was the outcome already decided, but I didn't have the strength to end it?  I wasn't brave enough to pull the trigger two years ago.  I wasn't strong enough.  Did I spend that year trying to get everyone used to the idea?  Had I already made that decision?  I still don't have the answer to that question.  I know that once I made peace with the possible consequences, I still wasn't prepared for the fallout.

And now, here I am, almost a year later, spending six weeks in the area I grew up in, finally facing  the reality of what I left my children and their dad to deal with.  I am ashamed of my actions, ashamed at how afraid I was to face the people that thought they were my friends.  I've been defensive and angry, hurt and tormented by my own guilt.  I was my own worst enemy.  But in this year,  I've learned to be kinder to myself.  And... although forgiveness is harder, forgiving myself for my choices.

I have made phone calls and dates to purposely deal with what I left behind.  This is a small town.  People talk.  I'm not puffed up with so much self-importance that I think I was the topic of too many conversations, but those who heard the rumors of my impending divorce, talked.  It's a pride thing.  I didn't want to defend my actions.  I was embarrassed.  I was so committed to the lie of the "perfect family" that I didn't want to admit that not only did I fail, but that I had been failing for years.  I had been perpetuating a myth out of my own insecurities. 

And, I've had so many firsts.  So many hard firsts.  First Christmas, first Easter, first Mother's Day, first flat tire, first date...everything was a first.  And I've had so many lessons.  Not just in humility but in friendships and navigating the world alone.  I've been sick twice this year.  Twice.  The woman who was supermom, super woman, super human...run down and sick.  I was rarely sick before I left my marriage.  This last one, took me down.  I don't recall ever feeling quite so alone in the world.

I miss the feeling of security, and I don't mean financial security.  I mean the security of feeling safe.  I used to tell my kids, that no matter how harsh the world treated them;  their refuge, their safety, was family...it was home.  I ran from my refuge and I don't know where it is anymore.  Leaving the safety net was hard.  I never feel sure-footed, I question every decision, because for the first time ever, I am making every decision alone.  I ask myself a lot, what would I do if something happened to my parents?  Who would be my emotional support system?  Who would care?  When I was so ill a couple weeks ago, I felt like I had no one to call in the middle of the night.  It wasn't true, but it felt that way.

I made a decision to rent a cabin on the lake I grew up on.  Far enough away from my mother's place to feel independent, but close enough to meet her for lunch in town.  Not too remote, although internet and cell service are non-existent. (Thank God for the next door neighbor's wi-fi that I am now able to pirate)  Across the lake from me is a tiny grocery store, bar and grill.  I call this place my tree house.   There are about 75 steps down to the lake.  My lungs are still screaming every time I climb back to the cabin, as I am still sick.  But, I feel myself healing.  In the few days I have spent here alone, I am feeling peaceful.  I fall asleep to the sound of crickets and water lapping on the shore.  I wake to birds chirping and a view of the still water.  I sleep like a stone. The one bar bar of cell service I get, allows me to text, but not have a phone conversation.  I spend about an hour on the water in the morning in a kayak, walk my dog several times a day and read.  So far, my hardest decision has been whether to drink another cup of coffee in the morning.  I brought along several books.  Two mindless fictions and three self-help books about finding courage, finding love and the study of body language.  I get bored easily by the psycho-babble but it gives me lots of food for thought. And I am quiet. 

I've spent years feeling lost and wanting things to be different.  I spent a year trying to figure out what I wanted to do but not knowing how to do it.  I spent the next year confused, sad, depressed and mostly alone.  I am spending this next year preparing for the next portion of my life. I am learning who I am without someone else to give me my identity.  My tree house getaway is helping me.  It was a good decision to be here and one I made by myself. I am relishing the quiet of my heart, and learning to listen and trust myself.  I am beginning to make decisions without agonizing over every  one.  I listen to the words of others, but ultimately, it is me making the decision that is best for me.  I give myself good advice mostly, but I still can't figure out if I need that next cup of coffee...