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My divorce was finalized Monday morning. I wasn't required to be there, but I got a phone call from him at 9:45 telling me "it's all done" ... his voice was too calm. Almost like a spring was put in his step. I want to scream at him for that. I froze. I couldn't speak. What could I say? "Oh good! I forgot all about that!" .... not hardly. He seemed to boast the words "it was really quick. Everything was really straight forward and about as clean cut as you can get. Everything is really fair and equal and well planned out.", as if somehow that would make me feel better. It seems like just yesterday I was at my old house... walking down the hallway, thinking about how 3 weeks was going to crawl by. Maybe I should back up a little.
I had to go back to my old life for a class that was required for the divorce. That was June 5th. We decided mutually that we would use the next week as one of his two weeks during the summer in the parenting plan. Because he didn't/("couldn't") take off any time from work and neither would his mother, I stayed in town for that week in order to make sure my kids were still taken care of. He pushed for over a week to convince me to stay at his house where he lives with his mom. I didn't think it was appropriate. I felt uncomfortable with it, given the history, the way his mother feels about me, all of it. My own mother even told me there was nothing wrong with staying there and that I should. I couldn't swallow that.
The day came for me and the kids to go. I dropped them off at their dad's house and changed clothes to go out with a friend. The plan was that I would stay at my old house for the weekend, and once the usual weekend was over, I would come back to his house and stay there for the week until it was time for me to go home. So, I got myself ready, and as I was leaving, I said to his mother (he was upstairs with my kids getting them ready for bed. It was almost 8:30) "okay, I'll see you guys later!" .... without even looking up, she (not even really) said "mmhmm. okay." ... I wish I could give you a sound byte of how she said it. She pretended to make herself busy. She gave off this tone like she was annoyed that I was even there in her house.
That night on my way back to my old house, driving those same roads, feeling like no time had passed since I was there - I had a panic attack. I thought I was going to have to pull over and vomit. I took a journal with me and wrote in it as much as I could bring myself to do it.
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Driving down these streets again felt like coming home in a sense, but I
felt sick to my stomach at the same time. His mother was cold to me. It's
always awkward seeing him in person, and this time was no different. There's
no way I can stay at their house for a whole week. I will end up in a crazy
house if I do.
My house is beautiful. As much as I hate to admit it, it
looks gorgeous. I miss this house so much it hurts. I feel like I've had
everything ripped out from underneath me. I'm living in an apartment
that smells like old, stale cigarettes. This house still smells brand new.
I'm only 3 months in and I feel raw. I feel cheated. I go back and forth
from being angry, to sad, to okay and all over again. I don't know what I've
gotten myself into by being here for a week.
I stayed at my old house the whole time. I called him the next day after I got there and told him I just couldn't stay at his house. I think I told him I didn't want the kids getting any mixed signals and I just couldn't bring myself to stay there.
Fast forward 3 weeks, and here I am. I still haven't wrapped my head around the fact that I am LEGALLY single. I am no longer married. I cannot understand how there are women (or men) in the world who find themselves HAPPY about this. Honestly, I thought I would celebrate this day. I thought we'd have a big party and be happy and laugh and talk about how much better things will get from here on out. But now.... now that this day is here, I can't. My heart hurts so much. My pain of what I endured has made way for the pain of what used to be. I feel guilt, I question whether I will really be blameless before the Lord when this life is over. Did I do enough? I feel like I'm split in two. If my daughter had come to me and told me the things I have had to tell people about my situation, I would tell her in a heartbeat that she had indeed done all she could do and it was time to get out, and do it fast. But on the other side of me, I feel like I don't know if I can even believe it. How much bad can really come out of something that's supposed to be good? But I lived it. As sure as I'm breathing, it happened. I wish it was a bad dream. That I could wake up and have a husband I'm madly in love with. Effortlessly in love with. But the reality of my life is that I don't. And I don't know if I really ever did. I'd like to think that one day I will have that. But my light ahead of me is only shining for about 4 feet of my path and I can't see anything beyond it.
Some days I'm not such a downer. But I find that there are few people who can genuinely relate to what I'm feeling and going through. I wish I could be the teenager that everyone had fun around. The girl who was always smiling and laughing. I'm exhausted beyond my means. I'm playing the role of two parents in one. I'm outnumbered by my own children. There are no extra hands or eyes, no extra time. To many, it sounds like I'm complaining. But to those who have been in my shoes, they can relate. I used to be the stay at home mom who complained about mundane crap. Walmart vs Target. Homeschooling vs public schooling. Carts not being returned. I used to be the mom who's only schedule involved which playdates we wanted to go to that week. I used to have a husband who could stay home with my kids so I could have a few hours with my friends. I thought I needed those girls nights out then.... There are so many things I took for granted. I knew this would be hard. But I also knew staying would have been worse.
And now.... I am, in every sense of the phrase,
The single mom.
