Let me start off by saying that I know I will be fine. Really. I do. I just feel like I need to be perfectly honest with you, because I am afraid I have misled you into thinking I am someone I am not. Also, please know that I am well aware that my troubles are minuscule in comparison to many other people's problems, but we all have our trials and situations to deal with, and in that, I am no different than anyone else. (I suppose I'm having a bit of a pity party this afternoon, and if you care to read on, you're invited.)
Each day, when I write a post for my blog, it may appear to you that I am blissfully happy all the time, just an endless bundle of energy, doing project after project, like the Energizer Bunny. Maybe it even appears that I am oblivious to the fact that there's been a life altering event happen a few months back. That's really not the case, and I never intended to come off that way, although I must admit I am doing many, many more projects than I was a even thinking about a year ago. It's the reasons behind what motivates me to do these projects that you don't read about in my posts.
You know how some people know just exactly what they want to be when they grow up, right from the start, and some folks aren't sure, till life kind of unfolds a bit? Well,growing up, I was definitely in the former group. From the time I was able to play with dolls, I wanted to be a wife and mother. I knew this all the way down to the bottom of my toes. I wanted to be the best there ever was at this.
I was a bit awkward in high school, self conscious in some ways, not confident in myself at all,(much more academic than cheerleader type for sure) mouth full of braces all the way through, until senior year (and headgear!) newly divorced parents in a time when nobody had divorced parents, trying to figure out just where I fit in. (feeling like I was the parent at home, trying to act like a kid at school) All of my friends had boyfriends. Then, at seventeen and a half, I met a boy. Had my first kiss. *sigh* I was crazy in love with him.
Four years passed and I married that boy. Still crazy in love with him. Made three absolutely amazing babies with him. I knew I was one of those lucky people that landed their dream career on the very first interview. Being a wife,mother and homemaker was a perfect fit for me. Not once did I take for granted the blessing I had been given. I even used to tell my friends just how very much I loved my life, how blessed I was.
Becoming suddenly single is just so, beyond foreign to me. Monumental in proportion when compared to that phase we as parents have to go through when we realize we're empty nesters. I really am having to learn how to do it. Decorating a home, this I know. What to do on a Friday night after eight o'clock, by myself, not so much. I am well versed in how to have "Date Nights" with my husband, but I have no clue how I would ever find someone to date, (if in fact I ever manage to get the divorce finalized.) Hosting a dinner party, I know. Going solo to a dinner party? Ridiculously uncomfortable at this moment in time when I am the only single person at a party of seven. Please don't get me wrong. I cherish my cottage, my family, my beloved pups, but sometimes I hit a wall and it is like waking up from a very bad dream, all over again.
Likewise, at home, at night, after eight o'clock, I am at a complete loss. The "other " side of the bed is covered in books, magazines, pillows, whatever, for two reasons. First, that bit of weight feels like I'm not alone when I roll over in my kind of faint sleep. Second, the piles are there because I cannot sleep. I read, I peruse magazines, I watch TV because sleep. does. not. come. ( I never even had a TV in my bedroom the last eight years.)
Working on all of these home projects till all hours of the night keeps my mind busy, and it is a positive activity that keeps me from dwelling on what cannot be changed. If I do not work on home projects, accomplishing something, then I just sit there, propped up in bed like a little night owl, watching Jay, and Conan, and many, many more crummy comedy shows that never even made it to prime time. I've seen every new video and I've been tempted to order Joan River's jewelry (Dear God! what does this tell you?!) from QVC segments. I'll tell you, it makes so much more sense for me to be up painting a cupboard than watching late, late night TV.
My gal pals are for the most part, married, with kids still at home, or they are single, but much younger than me, and navigating the waters just fine on their own, with their own urban tribe type cliques that are much more commonly found in many single thirty and forty somethings.
I am sharing all of this with you because I feel like I need to set the record straight. I fear that all of you wonderful people out there in Blogland think I am some kind of remarkable person, with out of the ordinary energy levels and ideas, with a ridiculously happy grin on my face 24/7, when in fact it is nothing more than my own self prescribed treatment for beating this quiet loneliness, my way of muddling through each day's odd moments that seem to spring up out of nowhere, and it has grown into a very therapeutic way of getting through the grieving process of the death of my now 29 year marriage to someone I mistakenly thought was going to be my life long companion, side by side, through those golden years. (not to mention that feakin' giant hole at the end of each evening.)
I just want you to know that I am not amazing. While there are many happy things in my life, actually more and more each day, and Blogging has been and is still a great motivator for me to get things done, I struggle each day with the bigger aspect of getting on with life as a suddenly single person who was quite clearly much more suited to being half of a twosome. I worry that this will be my life, doing "things" to keep busy.
It's not fair that he left me. It's not OK that he didn't miss a beat, and exchanged partners for those golden years of evening walks and porch sitting. But, it is so.
It's plain and simple: I do not know how to be single. I am tired of having my character built. Seriously.
With that being said, please don't feel bad for me, or feel the need to reassure me that I'm going to be fine. I know this. God walked me through the fire this far, I know he isn't going to leave me now.
*sigh* OK, the pity party is officially over. I'm going to make some lemonade and go work in my garden.