All posts in Married Life

Pondering.

Where is my head at? I’ve been wondering this for quite some months.

Did I leave the marriage for the right reasons? I was unhappy at the end, but in so many ways, he was a sanctuary from the world.

I wonder, if we hadn’t had so many end on end crises for 3 years…would I have been so unhappy?

Did I leave because I couldn’t cope with the damage the last 3 years did to both of us? Did I leave because of my own grief and despair?

On one hand, I am happier now I have left. I am optimistic that things will work out for the best. I rebounded heavily into a relationship that in another set of circumstances would have been “the one”. But, it didn’t work out and that’s ok.

But then I wonder to myself, is it fair to be pursuing this notion of an idealised relationship? Can I even trust my own judgement?

Because… it’s not all about me.

Is it fair to be seeking this idealised notion of a soulmate, at the expense of my children?

Because, even though I was unhappy at the end, when things were good, they were good. He’s a good man. A good man with an upbringing. A good man who has always been a safe place to land and who I did love.

I am not deciding to go back, but I am merely reflecting on the question… of whether I am being selfish. And, through my depression, can’t see what’s right in front of me. And whether making it work is more rewarding in the long run?

Maybe love *is* a choice? Maybe I am chasing my own ideals. Maybe I’m not even going to find it.

And the fact that it would be operationally easier, better for my kids, and a hell of a lot less exposing and painful for both of us is tempting.

My mother sought her own happiness at the expense of her children. Maybe this is just another pattern I am doomed to repeat?

I am going into counselling this week… I have acknowledged that I have some major grief, some post traumatic stress and some major fucked up childhood stuff to deal with. I am aware that I don’t know who I am without external validation or labels. Which is why figuring it out is important. I’m codependent. But at the same time, I’m potentially fucking up my children in the process and it’s not a factor I consider lightly.

Are there any other people out there who have separated, been certain that they are at the end, but still come back from the brink? I wonder if we should put in the effort. Seek counselling, learn to communicate, learn to love. Because I don’t know if I do trust myself  or my feelings anymore. I thought I knew what I wanted. Thought I had read a situation correctly and I was wrong. I thought that if I took a risk it would pay off. But maybe I am just kidding myself?

Scary times, new frontiers, and WTH

A few weeks ago, I told my husband that I wasn’t happy and wanted to go our separate ways. I have threatened this before, usually during an argument, but… this time, I knew it was different, because it was calm. No fights, no events, nothing…. just… it has been a cumulative thing over a period of about 3 years, where I have come out the other side, suddenly realising that I am different. OK, probably not different, but, just, braver about speaking out. It is hard, writing about this stuff publicly, knowing that I live SO publicly in so many ways… but when it comes to the crunch, I am actually fairly private.

Initiating a separation is harder when the person you are married to has done nothing wrong. Well, nothing deliberate. Because the thoughts are not of getting out of a toxic situation, or an abusive one, or even wanting to be with someone else, but with having to explain to people that it’s just not right for me anymore. Because no matter how I look at it, on the outside it just looks selfish. I feel selfish and mean, and it brings up a lot of issues about my mother and her moving on to another man and ignoring her children… all sorts of things. But, at the same time, I didn’t choose to be married to someone who sits on the spectrum, and if I had have been aware, I probably would have ended it. People keep on asking “what happened?” and offering condolences, etc… but… I feel…. flat. They say that the initiator of a separation often moves through the grieving process prior to making the final decision, and I think that that is what has happened here. My marriage was in trouble from the beginning, and propped up by various events, dramas, the job of raising children, we never had the chance to actually evaluate our relationship.

And because it’s not his fault, and he is a good person, and I genuinely like him, but we just have a completely different outlook on everything… and I feel stifled. Like I can’t even have my own thoughts and feelings anymore without needing to run them through a filter (that will inevitably put it down, or find something wrong with them)… and… I have realised that I am actually pretty special. And I don’t mean that in an arrogant way… but… that… I am really smart. I have BIG ideas and see the world very differently to most people. And I used to think this was a problem with me fitting in and that it was actually me. But, I guess part of growing up, is realising that your ‘weaknesses’ are often only in the context of what other people expect you to be.

  • I am not domestic.
  • I am not an… attentive… partner.
  • I am in my own head.
  • I am a dreamer.
  • I am selfish.
  • I am neurotic.
  • I need to be reassured. CONSTANTLY. Incessantly.
  • I expect full attention with my shit, and don’t listen if I am not interested in yours.

That’s been my whole identity for most of the marriage. Feeling like I need to be less of a dreamer, less of a brainiac, less selfish, less neurotic. Some of those are issues, like, me thinking the world revolves around me, sure, but it wasn’t my strengths, which are many, but about focusing on my weaknesses, and, feeling generally crap about myself all the time because I could not fit into the “wife and mother, part time careerist” model. It was the expected role… my search for meaning being treated as laziness, flakiness and instability, rather than as adventurous, seeking and positive. My marriage, simply, makes me feel bad about myself. Every day. Because the communication difficulties with someone literal or semantic, when you are into exaggeration and hyperbole, erodes you over time. Someone who likes adventure and impulses and enjoys just laying on the beach on a school night… is not compatible with someone who is not only worried about it being a school night, but will go ahead and remind you how right they were when you are tired the next day. A person who doesn’t value money, or mortgages, with someone who love routine and security…. well… it’s just not a good mix. I feel emotionally abused, even if it is not the case – and he does too.

And it sounds like I am slagging him off even when I am writing it… but I am not. It’s just a major, philosophical disconnect, couple with a fundamental incompatibility… that…makes both of us bring out the worst in each other. And I am by no means saying that I am doing Jason a favour by initiating the separation, because that would be so arrogant… but I honestly think that he doesn’t know how he deserves better than that. We BOTH do. And it’s not a matter of seeking counselling, or whatever, we have done all of that. I am now just realising that there is another alternative… which is rather than suffering in quiet, simmering resentment and miscommunication, DAILY, we separate and try to salvage a friendship while we can.

Our friends tell us we belong together, it’s all just so much external pressure. Internally, I feel we should not have gotten married in the first place. And I think that when something so fundamental is incompatible, it’s hard to come back from. I always had the view, even if it is naive, that you should have them ‘get’ you. Like, really get where you are coming from. They don’t have to agree – that would be dull – but to truly understand how each other ticks. And I haven’t felt that way in this relationship. Because of the pressures of needing to have children fairly young, low confidence in my ability to truly… attract someone without ulterior motives… I settled into the relationship that felt comfortable. Because it is comfortable. We are friends. But, we don’t have a marriage.

And it sounds cruel. It sounds like I am leaving him, taking him away from his children because I want to go and find someone else. That’s not it at all. I want to find out who *I* am. Because I have never known. I know that I am clever, and funny, and flawed in a million ways, but everything I have ever done has been in reference to either survival, or in reference to other people. It sounds like the lamest reason ever to end a marriage. But, truth be told, I would prefer to be afraid and lonely and tired… than to live another day in a relationship where both of us resent each other equally. I think Jason sees things my way too and I think that he agrees – it’s hard to tell with him how he’s feeling… but… I think we were limping. In a huge rut. And it really just took someone to actually say it loud and mean it.

So while you might be shocked to hear the news, or might not understand… remember that it’s internal. It’s how I feel. And I feel pretty shit because of it. But, I also don’t want to be 40, 50 and 60, having the same ridiculous conversations because noone had the balls to say that it was an unhealthy relationship.

We may figure it out in the end… and of course that would be great… for everyone else. But, you know, even if I end up being the bad guy in all of this, ultimately all I am answerable to is myself and my children. And they deserve a positive environment as much as I do.

I hope this gives some insight.

On coping and surviving.

I have had a shit week. In fact, I have had a pretty shit 2 years which really all just came to a big lump of big fat fruition this week.

I’ve had some bad luck, made some poor decisions, met some people whose only interest in me is what I can do for them… you know… lots of little things that have culminated in a week where I felt like I was in freefall.

Freefall in my marriage. Freefall in my business. Freefall with my health… you know… just… an unending feeling of complete lack of control.

There have been lots of times when this has happened in my life… and I mean lots. The kind of individual life stresses that happen to normal people, ruin their lives by happening once, have happened to me pretty much consistently since birth. In fact, if you can name a [first world...] trauma, I’ve lived it.

I am not what you would call a “lucky” person, if pressed to answer in such dichotomies.

But you know, in many ways, I am. Because part of this is also means I am equipped with tremendous emotional strength. I am a good fixer. After I initially fall in a heap, process information round and round and round again, I eventually come out the other end with a set of solutions to fix it and continue to survive until the next crisis. I am also compassionate, and empathetic, and all of those things that come with going through grief.

For better or worse, social media, and my over-use of it in those times, makes it hard to explain, in the moment, that I am moving through a process. My updates have quite a distinct pattern if you look hard enough… that usually after a day of melancholy, grief, depression, processing… I emerge with solutions to my problems.

And, most importantly, I ACT on those solutions.

The problems of the last few years, 95% of which have been completely out of my control, have put tremendous strain on our marriage. And, despite having a successful business, the personal financial implications of workplace injuries, worker’s compensation, medical bills, new babies, extremely poor financial advice etc… are threatening to take the business with it.

Yesterday, it felt like both my marriage and my business were over. Today, after a day of reflection, problem solving, I am sure that I can dig the business out of the hole. Maybe. The marriage, well, that is going to require lots of work… but you know… this is the warts & all of social media, my friends. Yeah, my marriage is in trouble and neither of us know what the decision is just yet. But you know… that’s life.

Social media, like nothing else, is a warts & all accounts of moments in time. Our innermost thoughts and impulses are public… and reading back on it sometimes leads to embarrassment… or accusations of “overshare” or whatever. But you know what? It’s my network and I really don’t care if people have this view.

I often post updates on social media networks to try an reach out to friends for some advice, reflection or support. Some of you help, some of you don’t. And that’s ok, because over time, I start to get a sense of who is truly there for me and who isn’t. Mostly in the “isn’t” pile, but hey, that’s ok too.

I have lots of acquaintances, well wishers, superficial friendships where, on my good days, it can distract me from the fact that I have no 100%, no-pretence, no-conditions, warts-and-all friendships, except for my marriage. I don’t have a mother, or anyone else I can rely on when the only true friendship that I ever had starts to fall apart around me.

So I turn to Twitter, I turn to Facebook… because you know, some token friendship and advice is better than none.

I am lonely and I admit it. I am human and I admit that too. And sometimes, I exercise poor judgement… I admit that. But you know, I get to connect with people I wouldn’t ordinarily connect with, and sometimes I feel just a little bit less like a brainy outer space alien that can’t connect on a meaningful level with any other person… and a little more like I have friends.

Even if they aren’t real.

Podcasting and picking on disadvantaged groups

Jason and I were sitting on the couch the other night, watching the wheelchair basketball at the Paralympics. One of our old schoolmates is in the Aussie team, has one prosthetic leg (that he had back then), and it led to a discussion about the… umm… cut off point … for what state the legs must be in to play wheelchair basketball at an elite level. The interesting thing was that this guy also kicked arse at "normal" basketball, because Jason used to play against him!

It then led to a game of speculating ‘who had what’ disability. Based on the muscular tone of the legs, or absence or legs, we speculated who was a "full" paraplegic, who was an amputee, etc. After a good… 5 minutes of this discussion, Jason then also lamented how he wishes that he could cut his left foot off. He has a neurological bone problem in his ankle that makes it extremely painful to walk for too long, and I have often sympathised with him and said that I would consent to him being amputated if it was ever ‘mangled by accident’… because then he would be classed as a "disability" rather than just a "fat fuck with a bad ankle". And we could sit and collect all that fat disability cash.

Anyway, our conversation descended into how to go about the removal of said foot without being charged. It was at that moment that I realised something. I turned to Jason and said:

"See, we have to be together forever, because there is noone else on this planet that would ever put up with either of us, talking shit about disabled people like that."

In that vein, we have actually decided to start podcasting. Sure, we might only have 3 people listening, but we think its going to be a fun step. The idea is to give some people some insight into the bullshit discussions that 2 weirdos like us have. I am thinking it will be no more than half an hour, once a month or so, in which we either:

  1. Publicly share our grievances with one another
  2. Allow me to get on one of my comical rants
  3. Talk shit about disabled people and other underprivileged and completely-undeserving-of-our-pisstaking members of society
  4. Make you realise the grumpy old man in a 29 year old body that I live with, and laugh at
  5. Answer questions from our listener(s).
  6. May even be an appearance or two from Mina, if she is so inclined.

We think it’ll be fun. Submit questions for the first one and as soon as we are settled in at the new house, we’ll do our first one. Should be a blast, I reckon.

HAHA – April Fools'ded

Oh man, I just got done…

I went to order a product from ThinkGeek that looked really cool… not that I have much use for it, but it seemed really quite awesome.

And it was an April Fool. Dammit. Now I want it even more!

Errr… Happy Valentine's Day??

I just received this in my inbox from an anonymous “concerned friend”:

picture-6.png

I thought it was one of my friends playing a joke – because – well – you all know what bastards you are. :)

Turns out it was from my HUSBAND.

He didn’t get me a card for Valentine’s Day, so I guess that this counts? Does it?