Tuesday, April 15, 2008

homecoming queen


Always before, no matter how wonderful my vacation spot, there's been a part of me that couldn't wait to get home. I'm such a homebody - and a real affront to the stereotype of the "on the town Gemini" - that I've consistently had a strong pull to be back in my own space. I love traveling, and would happily go virtually anywhere, but at some point I just want to be home. The feeling of peace and comfort as soon as I walk in the door has always calmed my soul.


Not anymore.


We were scheduled to come home late Sunday so that on Monday the kids could go to school and I could go to work. But that morning, after a self-imposed moratorium on any kind of emotion whatsoever, I woke up weeping and couldn't seem to muster up the balls to stop. By the time I kind of pulled it together, I resembled something in the roadkill family and my inner control freak had gone MIA on me. For a woman who prides herself on iron fisted self control, it was a really ugly moment.


But, for the first time in a while, the mechanical gods were smiling on me. My mom's car had thrown a belt of some sort and the part the mechanics needed to fix it wouldn't arrive until sometime Monday morning. So with my family egging me on, I made another uncharacteristic move and called in for my Monday shift. There was certainly a huge element of truth in not leaving my mom in the middle of nowhere without a car, but we all knew that was only part of the equation. The thought of going home was literally making me sick. And if I could put it off for another 24 hours, so be it. (And on a preemptive note, my new therapist insists that putting on a neutral face for your kids isn't as good a solution as I want it to be. Guess we tested out that theory).



My living arrangement won't be changing until the beginning of June. We'll all be one big, happy family living under one roof until then. But a lot is going on with me personally, and even though it's all going to be good (in the end), at the moment I'm in the Mojave Desert in the Highway of Life. There are people reading this blog who shouldn't be (and who shouldn't want to either), so I'm going to leave it at that for the moment. There was a comment made on an earlier post that pretty much sums up my current position - "post what you're comfortable with and save the rest for the book."


I've never been a person who trusts easily to start with and it's terribly hard to realize that there really are people you can't trust with your emotions or feelings. And there are a lot of conflicting thoughts that come with that realization. One of them, strengthened by my refusal to drag my kids into this, is envy. I envy, almost more than I can say, people who have the freedom to say what they want to and just get it out. But I've decided that there are those who will no longer be burdened by my thought processes, and while for the most part I'm surprisingly comfortable with that, sometimes the urge to just let 'er rip is pretty tempting.


So when I got back home Monday afternoon and checked a few blogs, I was immediately struck by Irene's. She has called me her "sister in arms", and to tell the truth I've been worried about her while I was gone. I do not for a second envy a single thing she is going through and wish I could snap my fingers and wish it all away so she could be the happy woman she totally deserves to be. But as I was catching up on what is going on with her, I couldn't help feeling a little envy at the way she's working through it all. And the more I read, the more I thought


Damn. I couldn't have said it better myself.

22 comments:

kitten said...

I'm glad you are home and safe. It's good good to have a cry now and then. Sweetie, I don't really know what you are going through and it is not my business, but I just want you to know, that I'm here if you need me and remember... This too shall pass!

ped crossing said...

Welcome back, we've missed you. I'm glad your weekend went well and could be extended. It sounds like you really needed to vent some emotion before it overwhelmed you.

Take care of you and the boys and the rest will take care of itself.

willowtree said...

Man, you sound like you've been hitting the wacky tabaccy.

Irene said...

It is true, you are my sister in arms and I have a great deal of admiration for you. You are one tough cookie, even when you crumble on occasion. We have to stick together and help each other through the extra rough spots. Luckily, you keep your sense of humor about you, hard as I know it is come by sometimes.

Big Hug!

Potty Mummy said...

Thinking of you, RC. And if you want to get it all out your blog, just do it; those who don't want to hear can always stop reading, and if you don't off-load here, where can you? (And yes, I know your therapist can help - but is she/he available at 2.00am?)

Rudee said...

It's terribly difficult to take back words and despite what the old adage says, words do hurt. I commend you for not dragging your children into battle, but it is OK for them to see you hurt. If you put your thoughts into words in a public venue, don't be surprised to see them come back to you through your children.

Divorce can be so ugly and stressful. Take it from me, there can be a better life for you at the end of it all. I wish you well and welcome back.

Aoj and The Lurchers said...

With all that you are going through, I suspect that good cry will have done you the world of good.

Know you are in my thoughts. {hugs}

Kim said...

Good to have you back. I hope the cry and the extra bit of time helped.

I think your instincts are good. Just do your best. The rest will come.

laurie said...

i've been worried, frankly, at how "together" you've seemed during all of this.

if you don't fall apart, you can't pick up the pieces. you just keep hobbling along.

so give in to your feelings now and again. you have them for a reason.

Amy said...

I'm glad you had a chance to purge some emotion. I can feel the relief in your words.

And I'm very sorry and disappointed to hear you've been taking crap for what you write here. I think you've been very discreet at an incredibly difficult time in your life. I hope you find a satisfying outlet where you won't need to feel so guarded.

Welcome back.

LCM said...

Ped's right, we have missed you. I wondered how things were going. It's tough, but it's best to not let 'er rip. I have had some really nasty family problems and my girls have no idea, they still speak very excitedly and lovingly of Grandma and Grandpa. That just makes me look even better.
PS, I don't think you've said anything worth pointing and gasping at...very nicely contained. So, Stop reading if it bothers you people!

Kaytabug said...

I'm glad you were able to let those feelings out. It's not good to shove them down, it's just like shoving a spring down, it will spring back up but with greater force when it can't take the load.

You and your boys are in my thoughts. Big HUGS!

Marti said...

It is good to have you back, RC. I am also glad you were able to let some emotion out.

Keeping you and the boys in my prayers

Marti

aims said...

Wow - reading today - the first thing I thought was - how like Irene this is...

I guess in the long run - we are all the same underneath - and we all struggle and strain against the cruelties of real life.

So while you are not saying things - at least let out a roar for the Ya Ya Sisterhood girl!

Akelamalu said...

A good cry can be just the thing to wash away some of the hurt. Your business is your business no need to blog about it if you don't want to. Nice to see you back x

Jo Beaufoix said...

RC, crying s good. And screaming and shouting and kicking things. So let rip hon. And as for the readers, I suppose they might disappear in a bit, but if not, you could let rip anyway and maybe they won't come back. I know, I know, it's much more complicated than that, but I'm sad you can't make like Irene and get it out. I might just set up a vent site where we can all go anonymously and just yell. What do you think?
Hugs. And be nice to yourself.

Anonymous said...

Great post, RC. It really pisses me off when people try to stop us from writing what we want. A blog is all about that isn't it. Some people just like something to moan about or complain about, they have no life of their own so they trash someone elses. Crying is good for the soul, releases pent up emotion and helps you see light at the end of the tunnel. It will be there.

Crystal xx

Rose said...

Hey, I know (some) of what you're going through. I had to stay in the "marital home" from October till April, partly to get through the holidays (dumb idea) and partly due to legalities. So. Try and be as kind to yourself as possible. Every time you have to make a decision, think about how you'd want your best friend to be treated, and then choose that. Treat yourself at least as good as you treat your best friend.

the mother of this lot said...

Glad you're back. Missed you. You can e-mail me for a good old rant anytime.

Sandy said...

what about a password protected blog for those truly virulent posts? I have one and I am the ONLY person with the password...lol.

It does help sometimes to not have to take your kids' feelings into consideration.

Cath said...

RC - I know what it feels like to dread going home (not now - in the past) and it is horrible. It was like I didn't belong anywhere. My home was not my home. Very unsettling. But it does pass as things move on.

You need to rant where you want. I wrote loads of letters I never sent. I hadn't discovered blogging then. You rant and cry when and where you want and where it is comfortable. I applaud you considering your children as you do, but do let them know you have emotions too. I am sure they laugh and cry. It's ok for them to know Mum can do the same.

Thinking of you and sending you lots of good vibes and prayers. I have been worried about Irene too but hopefully she is coming through.

Maggie May said...

So glad you are back. Coming home is filled with mixed emotions. You got the wireless working though.