Today is the two year anniversary of our divorce being finalized. It's still a process. I still have some of his stuff in my garage, and in my shed. I try not to lose patience, but it still jabs at me in a very sensitive place. My heart feels hurt, because part of the trade-off was he chose beer over the comforts of our (now my) home. And my heart feels he shouldn't continue to receive the benefit of even his junk having a place in my home. But my brain says "m'eh, not worth it. That's not what it was about. It was about addiction, you can't take it personally." So that's the emotional tightrope I trod on a regular basis. I keep thinking it will be gone once all his stuff is gone, but I can't really be sure. I want to forget and let go of any hard feelings, but sometimes I think I shouldn't ever forget, or shouldn't ever let it go.
Meanwhile, life goes on. And it's freakin' amazing. My kids are great. I have a great relationship with my daughter-in-law. My boyfriend is wonderful. We are planning a future together. I went through a phase when I was trying to forecast every single potential problem, but nothing ever manifested. I realized I was just doing that thing that I do, always being prepared to be disappointed, so I let it go, and I relaxed, and I'm just being happy for as long as I can be happy. I am blessed and appreciative to have someone love me so completely, who makes me laugh, and makes me feel wanted and needed.
I was driving around town last week, and it dawned on me that I haven't cried in a very long time. I was at the CVS parking lot, and I remembered I had been driving and crying back in 2011 in that same parking lot. I pulled into a space, and I called the EAP hotline. That's an "employee assistance program" they offer through work, where you can get help for mental/emotional/substance/legal types of issues. I spoke to a lady who answered the phone, and explained my miserable situation, and she listened and empathized, and gave me a list of local therapists I could talk to. I think I was eligible for six sessions, or something like that. It depends on the situation. I remember being so embarrassed about crying, full on sobbing crying, to a complete stranger over the phone. But it was also cathartic. And at the time, I really thought I was resolved to follow through. But once I came back to reality, I knew the time was not right. I knew I was going to have to carry my misery for a while longer, on one hand to protect my kids - - emotionally and physically - - and to use that time to hopefully reason with him to get help. Deep, deep down, I knew it was probably fruitless. Hope is usually postponed disappointment, right? But it helped me to maintain the correct attitude while I was resolute in keeping it together for as long as possible.
I don't cry all the time any more. That is a huge thing for me. I don't feel hopeless any longer. I am free, and I am happy, and I am loved, and I love.
That is everything.
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