So the roller coaster continues.
If anyone out there is interested in writing the definitive book on divorce, please dedicate at least one chapter to the Roller Coaster. More would probably be better, but at least address it somehow. It's the black fly in the Chardonnay of divorce, and very few people warned me about it.
All emotions are good in their own way and all emotions are valid. Don't you agree? Now - that said - I've had a really rough 24 hours. And it all came down to one emotion. Anger. From me. Lots and lots of it.
I've spent the last day going over my mental checklist.
Am I having ambivalent feelings about the divorce? No. Check.
Am I unhappy with the life I have now? No. Check.
Would I want to go back to the marriage we had? Hell, no. Check.
Am I upset that the FX has a girlfriend? No. Check.
Am I mad that I had to do damage control with my kids this week? Yes. Check.
Wait a minute. What was that mad word? Because I feel a lot more of that coming on. Mad. I am mad. Furious. Livid. But in a quiet and controlled kind of way. No head spinning or glass breaking. No yelling or screaming. Not necessary. I'm far more dangerous when I'm quiet.
I'm sure you're all getting really tired of my Ah Ha moments, but I had another one yesterday. A big one. I'm not mad that the FX is moving on. I'm mad that he's moving on with a clear conscience. I'm mad that he's moving on never once having acknowledged that he was an absolute and total shit to me most of last year. I'm mad that I never got to do my final summation in which I got to tell him exactly what I thought about the whole thing. It just moved too fast. First I was blindsided, then I was frantically kissing butt to stay in the game, then I knew it was over and I started pulling back and then it really was over. All in the course of eight or nine weeks.
When you're in a relationship and you have a fight, you get the chance to explain yourself when you make up. You get to say "good point" or "that was really uncalled for" and all of those things. But when you're fighting like mad for your marriage, you don't get that chance. You start choosing your words very, very carefully. (And wasn't it Erica Jong in Fear of Flying who said that people always try harder to save loveless marriages? I can't remember what her reason was, but I'm not about to argue with her conclusion). But I had listened to some of the most amazing things coming out of the mouth of this man I had been married to for so long, and they all were some variation of the same statement - "RC, this is all YOUR fault". And now, this same man wanted to be "my friend". He wanted to sit and chat over coffee. He wanted to keep me up to date on the office politics that had always bored me silly to start with. He wanted to have me ask about his day. Well, I don't know about you, but my friends don't treat me like that. They wouldn't be my friends if they did. And now, with no effort whatsoever made to even attempt to clean up the mess he had made here, he was off to do it again somewhere else. I just snapped.
I was sitting in my dining room trying not to explode when there was a knock on my front door. And lo and behold, there stood the FX to help Surfer Dude with a science project. He thought I was at work and I never knew SD had asked him over. We eyed each other warily.
And all of a sudden I realized that there was no way in hell I could carry this anger around for another day.