Saying Goodbye to My Dreams

I have started saying goodbye to my dreams. I think that I might have subconsciously started this process some time ago, but it has officially started, front and center of my consciouness, tonight. Through the process of realizing that I am not who I had made myself up to be, and that my life is not what I thought it was, it has occurred to me that the dreams that I have had were perhaps not the dreams that I wanted to have. And that, my friends, is much more like a nightmare. Sitting in my comfy, although really quite dirty, chair-and-a-half, night after night..alone...has given me ample time to think. Although my instinct is always to block out the bad things, ignore them until they go away, the matter of my divorce and the circumstances that surround it, is not one that will be ignored. So, the nightmares come and the dreams fade away...

One dream that I am letting go of tonight is the dream of wealth equalling happiness. I know...I know that is trite, and you are likely thinking, "duh, woman. Of course wealth doesn't equal happiness". But let's be realistic. With money comes the comfort of knowing you can take that trip to Paris, or you can afford to send your children to that private school, fill your call up with gas, or even just pay the power bill. When the dreams all revolve around that day, that day when money is a non-issue, you are just setting the stage for the nightmare. I have learned that it doesn't really matter your socio-economic status. Money impacts every relationship in a negative way at some point. Even the most wealthy among us have turbulent times when it comes to financial stability. It is the rare Bill Gates kind of money that can stay about the financial fray that the rest of us are constantly trying to prevent further unravelling of...And so, I am letting go of this dream tonight. The dream that having a sufficient amount of funds in my account will help me maintain a healthy and happy relationship. I get that it's a silly dream and one that's based on no merit whatsoever. I get that.

I may chronicle future jettisoning of vapid dreams in subsequent blogs...it makes for nice filler when I am struggling for a topic. But for now, I will think of the dreams I have yet to create. The ones that might impart some bit of comfort in an otherwise nightmarish time. I do have this one dream...One I am scared to share, for fear that it is only that...A dream. Never to come to fruition, only to replay itself in my mind to remind me of the things that I have cast asunder. However, this blog has become my open forum for such fears, and often by putting them into cyber-space, I can move past them as fears and learn to embrace them as reality. So here we go...

In this dream, I am whole. I am strong, happy, healthy, and successful. Not successful in a wealth accumulating way, but just an overall sense of success in living. I have a life that gives me purpose. My children are growing up to be strong, happy, healthy young women. In this dream, I live by the sea and I illustrate children's books. My life is simple, but with purpose. When I wake up in the morning, the sun shines into my bedroom. But the warmth I feel is not from the sun. It is from the person next to me that I have chosen to spend my days with. And there he sleeps, mouth open, softly snoring, until he realizes that I am gazing at him. He wakes. He tells me that I am the most beautiful woman he has even known, and that he is the happiest, luckiest man in the world. And I believe him. Although he has given me reasons to doubt him in the past, he always makes up for those transgressions, and then some. And so I believe.

We should all have dreams that fill us with warmth. We should all have dreams that fill us with hope. We should all have dreams that make us believe. For when we stop believing, the dreams have nowhere to go...And you have to say goodbye to your dreams. And really, my friends, that's just sad.

Due Time Can Kiss My Ass.

I have been told that it all gets better. I have heard that in "due time" things will change for me and I will be happy. I struggle with the vagueness of that. Point to a date on a calendar and tell me, "here, Kate...On this date you will be okay", then at least I have something concrete to focus on. And yeah, I know that you can't do that...But "due time"? Really? Can't we come up with something more reassuring than that? Maybe that is the biggest part of my problem...Maybe I am still hanging my happiness on some time frame that never had anything to do with me in the first place. I am overdue for my time.

Right?

Maybe "due time" is not an abstraction. Maybe it's not said to make me feel like I have no control over what is happening in my life. Maybe it's said to help me understand that, at some point, things will get better. Things will go my way. Things will change for me, and I will be happy. Perhaps it is meant to give me some semblance of control in an otherwise wildly careening existance. I'm just not so sure about that....

I worry that by putting things in terms of "due time", no real time ever has to be established. Somethings need to have parameters. Or, do they? I was told recently by a very, very kind and generous friend, that no one will ever be able to set timeframes for my life but ME. It will take whatever time it takes for me to pick up my mess, pack it away, and move on & out. Is it too soon for me to be ready to see that happen? Is it okay for me to say that the time is now? It seems like such a long time since I have had that kind of control...And I am not prepared to relenquish the newfound control that I wield. So, I say to those people that offer me "due time"...Due time can kiss my ass. Come up with something better. I think I deserve something better. Unless there is a 2009 calendar out there with "Due Time" day boldy circled in red, I just don't want to hear about it anymore.

But let me add a caveat: Just because I don't want to hear you tell me that in "due time" all my dreams will come true, doesn't mean that I don't appreciate the effort. I know that you care. And I am feeling reasonibly certain that, yes, in due time all of my dreams will come true. The thing I don't like is feeling that I am, once again, not in control. That I have to sit and wait...sit and wait...sit and wait for my due time to come. And I find myself reminded of my very, very kind and generous friend and her nuggets of wisdom. She told me that "people come into your life for a reason, and maybe we were brought together for a reason, that I might be an example of someone who went through a painful time and came out stronger because of it. And if you need me, I will always have time for you". Not due time. Just time. And I think that's all I have ever wanted...

Warning: This Post is Depressing. Read with Caution & a Side of Zoloft.

I just cannot come up with enough lucid thought to fill a blog these days. I must say, this only seems to add to my mounting depression. I used to look forward to blogging as much as I looked forward to sitting in my overstuffed, oversized, Restoration Hardware "chair-and-a-half" at the end of a busy day, with a glass of wine and my thin crisp Triscuits & Kaukauna port wine cheese. Now, the wine has turned, the cheese is gone & the crackers are stale. Even the guinea pig (yes, we have a guinea pig) recently peed on my chair. Everything I love is turning to crap all around me, and I feel like I am helpless to stop this slide down the slippery slope on the giant crap mountain that I formed.

So, I am learning how to fake it. Everyday, I am faking it more and more. I'm not even sure if people notice it...I mean, I am sure that the fact that I have all but dropped of the face of the Earth gives it away somewhat, but I'm trying to fake even that. I am working hard to "be there" for others. Working hard to get up in the morning and get dressed, get the kids dressed, go to work, smile and chat when I don't want to...And in spite of all the effort, I almost never see people anymore. I stood next to someone I have known for years, in line at a store, and never even noticed them until they asked me the dreaded, "are you okay"? And I wanted to cry. I wanted to cry and say, "no, I am not okay. I am sad and I am alone and I feel loss so deeply that it has cleaved my soul in two"...But I didn't. Instead I faked it. I faked like I was so lost in my own little trite world of nonsense that I just simply didn't recognize her "with that hat on". But in faking it, I spared her. I spared her the burden of knowing the real reason why she hasn't seen me in a while. The real reason I have lost so much weight. The real reason I am faking my life. It's my burden, after all...Not hers. I did this to myself and now I will pay the price. The currency is guilt, and I am a wealthy woman, indeed.

I know I should feel comfortable talking to my friends. I know I should be able to talk to my family. And they have all reached out to me...I can feel them reaching all the time. Yet when the phone rings, or the e-mails come, I just can't bring myself to open up and "burden" them. I am tired of crying and I am tired of explaining, and I am tired of feeling the burden of the weight on my heart. I have always had a very, very bad habit of ignoring things until they go away, and I am falling into those bad habits like a ton of bricks...But I don't want to ignore you, and I don't want you to go away...Please keep trying and please keep reaching. I promise, at some point I will reach back. I just hope that when I do, you aren't too far away...

Disappointment: My Nemesis, My Friend.

Whew. I have reached levels of disappointment that are beyond description. I have spent the last week disappointing myself, disappointing my spouse, and now, finally...disappointing my children. See, tonight is the night that my soon-to-be ex-husband and I decided to tell our beautiful, innocent babies that we were getting divorced. It was, without a doubt, a grand disappointment.

My oldest daughter was overwhelmed. She cried and begged us to stay married forever. She wanted to know if we were leaving her. She wanted to know where she was going to live. She wanted to know if we (my husband and I) would be alone forever or if we would find someone else. She had so many "adult" questions, it overwhelmed me...She is only 6 years old...It was just so disappointing for her. It broke my heart. My husband sat next to her, holding her hand, tears streaming down his face, trying to comfort her...when he needed to be comforted too. When his turn came to talk to her, he did an amazing job. He pulled himself together and explained things just as he needed to...It was more painful for me than anything we have gone through this far. I wanted to stand up on the couch and scream..."WHY! Why couldn't you have cared this much when it still mattered to me! Why couldn't you have been this involved in the emotional well being of your children all along"! Of course, I didn't. I sat on the couch and cried. I haven't stopped since.

My youngest daughter was underwhelmed, to say the least. And that was a blessing. She ran around, with scissors in hand (I am for real people...yeah, judge me. I don't care. Do it now while I am still to exhausted to kick your ass), and tried to eat a candle. She was fully unaffected by the conversation that was going on. But periodically she would come up to her Daddy and say, "Daddy, please don't go"...She too is disappointed. Her disappointment may manifest itself through symptoms of pica, but there is disappointment there just the same. She is only 3...I hope that she doesn't remember this painfully disappointing night 3 years down the line.

So...here I sit. Glass of wine in hand...blogging. Some people may think that's callous or even strange. But it's more obligatory catharsis. The girls are sleeping...exhausted from all of the disappointment that has been heaped upon them over the past few days, and I am just numb. Sometimes blogging allows me to get out all of the emotions that I keep bottled up inside in a way that makes me feel better, and sometimes amuses others. But now, I feel like I am telling a story that doesn't even belong to me. My heart feels empty. I don't really have any great emotional stories to share. I feel like I have been in a bloodletting, and all life in me has poured out onto the earth...absorbed and then gone. But yet, I feel compelled to write this blog and send all of these thoughts into the blogosphere...Because the part of me that takes my raw emotions and turns them into something creative and unique is dying. I am slowly starting to shut down and I am helpless to stop it. I have been trying to keep the people who love me close to me, but my heart is fighting that attempt, and I want to push all these people away. If I can just shut down and feel nothing, I can get through all of the disappointment...I wont have to feel it...and I can put all of my focus on helping those who are going to suffer the most...My girls.

So if I don't smile...Forgive me. If I don't want to talk to you...Forgive me. If I seem to lose some interest in the very things that used to bring me some measure of happiness...Forgive me. I know that I will disappoint you too. I am sure that I already have in some way or another over the years, so it is likely that you are used to it. Soon, I will not be myself anymore. I have already changed...There was once a girl who would do anything for a man that she met, until she had more disappointment than she could stand, and she began to shut down...and she began to change into someone that turned the disappointment table...But heaping disappointment on others doesn't make you feel better. In fact, it is as bad - or worse, than feeling the disappointment yourself. So I choose to feel nothing. In nothingness there wont be any disappointment. None to be delivered or received. So if I can't look you in the eye when we meet...forgive me. I am trying to spare you from disappointment. Because my tired, empty eyes will give it all away...That I have been friends with disappointment for years, and although she has been a hard friend to have hanging around all the time, she has always been there...Even though I have been a faithful companion, she is always looking for new people to be fast friends with. And I don't want it to be you.