Early Morning Solitary Thoughts

This morning I went to sleep at about 2:00 am and woke up at 5:00 am. I took a melatonin to try to sleep better, but it didn't help. This is what happens when I slow down and start thinking about things, I can't stop. So far I'm feeling alright, though, and will have the space for a nap if need be. 

This is one of those solitary weekends. A. is at her dad's house and I did not make any other plans. I cherish these times, I need them desperately, but they are also very challenging. The first few weekends after the divorce I would make a ton of plans to do extra work, clean the house, read, and all kinds of things. I would crash hard, though, and very little of that would happen. I would lose all interest in food, in fact, it would all disgust me. Instead of making the most of the time alone that I had craved for so long, I would end up reading Rumi to my dog and sobbing on the bathroom floor. What is it with the bathroom floor and emotional breakdowns? I felt guilty about wasting my time and would feel unaccomplished at the end of the weekend. For me, accomplishing work or tasks is intrinsically tied to my sense of self-worth. I know this is somewhat pathological. 

It's gotten better, though. I've stopped fighting it. It's gotten easier to get myself up in the morning. Food does not repulse me anymore, well, at least not as much, and I am starting to remain more balanced in how I eat on these weekends. I'm able to do some of the things I want to, and leave space for resting or processing if needed. It is good for me, I know it. 

A couple of things that have been tumbling around in my head this weekend are; the amazing 1.5 weeks with P. traveling and camping, anxiety over the relationship, my departure from my current workplace to return to my former workplace, and changes in my current friendships. 

I'll write about the trip in another post. It was amazing. All I can say is that I loved every minute and wanted more. I felt that I could totally be myself. It felt safe. I felt nourished and reinvigorated by the experience of being with him exploring these beautiful places, but deeply sad and somewhat shaken when it was over. It was wonderful to get to know him better, and we seemed to blend seamlessly in the way we worked together. 10 days non-stop with the same person can be difficult, but it was not for me in this case. I hope it was as mind-blowingly amazing for him as it was for me. 

I find though, that when I am alone I start questioning my ability to discern truth from what I want to see. I fall into these traps of feeling completely sure that he is not that interested, or that he will lose interest quickly because of my lack of drama and desire to be supportive. This has happened before - a less self-sufficient, more needy, and less responsible woman becomes alluring, or I simply lose my novelty. Men seem grateful at first to be with a woman who is "like a guy", that gets dirty, joins in on rude jokes, and is not disgusted by bodily functions (well, not most of them anyway). That fades quickly. My panicked hind brain whispers "run!" as if I can avoid heartbreak by running away before he has a chance to hurt me. In my imagination it is no big deal to him, maybe he gets mad but then quickly moves on. My actions don't matter at all. The more I fall in love with him the scarier it gets. I have to remember that I cannot tell what the future is going to hold, I can only make the best choices I can with the information I have available and an honest understanding of what I want. I want to stay. I want to be with him. I see the possibility of disaster but I choose to move forward anyway. He has done his best to reassure me as much as he can, but the unwanted thoughts and feelings are persistent and defy logic. This points to underlying, unaddressed issues on my part. I'll need to do some more thinking about this. 

I'm feeling a lot of guilt and grief over my career move. As I start organizing my things and listing out the items that need fixing in the house, I keep asking myself why I would move from a place where we are comfortable and have everything we need, including a supportive circle of friends that are like family. I see my choices from the outside and they look stupid. 

Also, in the space of less than a year I have managed to disappointed nearly everyone in my life. I hate the feeling of disappointing people. I squirm at the feeling that comes off of them, I hate seeing myself how they see me in that moment. From the divorce to my change of job, I have just about covered everyone. My daughter is going to be the most difficult to tell. She is the last to know. I am afraid she will be devastated. She has developed a fierce attachment to the other kids in the pod and thinks of them, especially since the divorce, as the family she never had. I went back and forth many, many times in trying to make my decision because of this. I concluded that I cannot make big life and career choices solely based on how she feels, because children's feelings can change quickly. The situation can change. Sometimes I don't know, though. I'm very worried. 

Another thing that has been weighing on my mind is the missed opportunity for re-connection with my ex husband's family. I was close to them, and felt a huge sense of loss upon the divorce. They are one of the things that kept me from even exploring the idea for long periods at a time. It is not just his parents, but his brother and sister-in-law and their kids, as well as their aunt. For a while after the divorce I was angry with them (mostly his parents) because of the speculation, rumors, and insensitive behavior on the part of his father toward him. The rumors and speculations have dissipated recently, from what I have heard. I have not seen them since the pandemic started. I was supposed to go to my daughter's birthday party in Phoenix yesterday. He told me they were expecting me, but then told me that he had said I wouldn't be there. We both decided that rather than confuse things even more, I would find another time to reconnect with them. It is better this way, because the reunion won't get in the way of my daughter's birthday celebration. I have started thinking about what this is going to be like. To them, it must be like I suddenly ceased to exist. I was part of the family for 18 years, then gone and with someone else. I don't blame them for being mad or searching for explanations, however sensationalized. I understand that they may feel abandoned. The truth is that I care for them very much, but I needed to give myself and my ex space, and it was too painful to think about seeing them. To them, especially in light of my current relationship, it must have seemed fast and cruel. I wonder how it is going to go. They've been hurt and had their world shaken up. I did this to them. I am truly sorry, but at the same time I stand behind the decision I made. I know I need to reach out and schedule something soon. 

The friendships I have made here have been not only invaluable, they have been key to our survival for past year. Now that the pandemic is in a different stage and people are gathering again, I can feel some disentangling happening. Both B. & D. are on their way to being divorced as well, and are busy re-discovering themselves, broadening their friend pool, and making up for lost time. They both have a strong desire to go to parties and socialize, and get into a scene of some kind. This is good for them I'm sure, but I have no desire to join. I am bored by parties and have no interest in the kind of interpersonal drama that comes with a scene. I really just want to spend time with my daughter or curl up on the couch or in bed and read with my cats, if I have extra time. I wonder how this will play out. Again, my frightened hind brain says "good thing you don't invest in friendships. You know how this always turns out." Really? I actually don't know how any of this turns out. This is another reason work has taken the front seat. I'm running away from attachment, from being hurt. I know this has to go.