I will be leaving the house this month. I will be renting a room from a lady in town I found through craigslist. It is a decent sized bedroom and she seems like a very nice lady.
That said, it is the culmination of three years of personal horror. And now I am that discarded middle aged woman who is allowed to live but no one really knows what for. I do know I have the love of my family. It really could not be more clear. But overriding that every single day since October 12, 2008 is the heaviness I carry in my chest with Tom's loss coupled with the ever present fear that no matter how much I try, I may never really be able to support myself in anything that exceeds the poverty level. If that.
You will read this and say that I am being lazy and pessimistic and I just have to slap on a happy face and get out there. Well I do. I do that every day but it takes some real serious deep work to bring myself there. I start and end every day with such a huge burden of sadness I do not know how I find the energy to continue. I have cried every damn day for 3 years. This is hard and I hate it and I hate where I am and I know it is absolutely dependent on me and me alone to change it and I would kill to have Tom stand here and give me a hug and say we will be OK. But Tom isn't here and he has made it abundantly clear that he neither loves me nor likes me and the worst thing he would ever have to endure would be spending any more time with me. And there I am. On a spit in the 5th level of hell desperately missing the love of a husband I had for thirty-one years and wondering what the hell happened to turn things so upside down. And who the hell am I anyway? I no longer know.
Don't get me wrong. I do things daily to move forward. I think I have moved a foot and a half this year alone. I have irons in the fire and a stack of resumes in my car. But that deep deep sadness and fear is something I have to step over before I even can move each day. I have let fewer and fewer people see it because, seriously, I wouldn't look at it if it wasn't right in my face, why would anyone else want to?
I have three months. Jean said she can help me for three months. If I have not managed to create enough income to cover my rent by then I am out of options. So it is sink or swim time and my comfort zone (which I have not seen in years) is being constantly challenged. I am searching for my dignity and I am going to do something I fear every day until I have no fear left. And if that doesn't get me anywhere, then I am simply lost. I always had a plan B and C. I am on plan Z now and not feeling very clever.
And for those of you who are saying "All she has to do is..." well, chances are I have tried it. I really have. It is so simple, yet so complex. Once I get ahead financially and shake Tom out of my heart I assume I will be back to my old self - perhaps better. Definitely sadder but wiser. Where is the Music Man when you need him? As it turns out I am not one to thrive under pressure. I am one to curl up into fetal position. Luckily I am not responsible for the survival of the species.
And why am I putting this out there for all to see even though the reaction is likely to be disbelief or irritation? Because I want a record. When I do make it, I want to remember how far I have come.
By the time you read this I will probably have found enough grit to do the next thing. But right now, I have never felt so lost, so hopeless, so devalued or so like a piece of trash in my life. Wish me luck. I desperately need it.
It was nice while it lasted
1 comment:
Clare, such a sad day. Wish there were words that could help get you through this day. Sending love.
Beth
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