The life we have is the path we choose

I found a couple of old diaries I had kept and realize my stint in the school of gullible idiocy began way back, stemmed mostly from the insecurities of a sheltered childhood.

There's nothing for it but to know and be glad that I grew up.

I am now getting away from the biggest evil of my life and soon that part will be over.

As I go through this stage, I learn that fear is never really gone, it visits now and again when you are most vulnerable. And what makes you vulnerable, one's children.

I am advised that the children are old enough, I should not worry.

So the question I pose, 'what is the choice to make', seems simple
- to be happy or to worry,
- to live in certainty or volatility


but is it?

Menace still at large ..

... still in the process.

27 Oct :
 Like the menacing mosquito that hovers, that’s how it felt for a few hours. I return home early today and the hall is deserted and the house is quiet. And I realise he is back.

The boys are in their room doing their own things along with their sister who is usually in the dining room studying.

What does he do, interrogates and questions them to get a feel for their loyalty. The boys responses are unsure or was it. Disappears back to where ever he came from.
He’s gathering points I think to show I am not a perfect mum.

My dad came to check on the kids as usual. He verbally attacks him. Why does he attack my father, why does he question his kindness and care for my kids? Is he jealous or is he afraid that the kids are doing fine without him.

I talked to my dad, he tells me don't worry. I ask if they argued, he says not by his definition, although my husband raised his voice. My husband it seems imagines that the world is conspiring against him. 

What is he afraid of?

He slapped the boys earlier for some excuse (not performing some ritual they are supposed to). What is wrong with him? Like a fix he has to get, the need to kick at someone, what?.

One visit for a few hours and my youngest is stressed again, my daughter is holding her breathe and my middle child, he's frowning, unsure of the innuendos.

Need to get advise.

I'm controlling myself.. I want to scream out loud .
Can I just echo here what my youngest son said - I hate him.

Time to learn

"How suppressed am I, when I cannot bring myself to throw things.."

It's time to start learning new stuff....
- first make sure you know where the fuse box is and what switch is for where.
- how to change a fluorescent tube and figure what the starter is. and how it looks
- time to figure out that different bulbs have different wattage - and some slide in and some screw on ..
- how to change the plug if wiring gets shot (.. is it the green or, red or was it the earth wire ??)
- how to change the bathroom hose 
- to to fix a leaky pipe if it can be done without the plumber ... ?? what's a faucet
- how to screw back a hinge on a cupboard door that's coming apart
- how to bang a nail into the wall ( or drill ??) - there are apparently some types of materials you don't just knock a nail in, not unless you like the look of spider web cracks
- how to buy the right size furniture and practical one too .. not just because the design is pretty...


I gave birth to three children,  SO
I can do these ...

I think !


anyone know the number of a good, handy, handyman ?
  

Emotional recoil ...

"It is the emotional recoil that kills you, the shock of stepping off the track of a conventional lifestyle and losing all the embracing comforts that keep so many people on that track forever. To create a family with a spouse is one of the most fundamental ways a person can find continuity and meaning in society."

Elizabeth Gilbert describes the feeling quite succinctly on why divorce feels like an upheaval. While on the one hand she has hit the nail on the head for most cases, in my case, there is no shock really as I have been moving off the track for a long while now. Ironically, I will finally have continuity.  

It is a derailment of a different sort. My (overly) concern is for the shock of others in my mostly normal conventional family circle and how they might think of it and of me. Do I tell them, the whole sordid tale ?

I constantly tell my kids, stop worrying about what others think, if you are confident that it is right, then it is. What others think will not matter at your finish line.

It’s easier to preach than practice.

Still processing...

I've been searching but can't seem to locate bloggers who have been through the similar experiences that I have or had. I suppose not everyone is able to talk about it or share.  The domestic abuse is one thing but this divorce business is something else.

My sister is very supportive 'good riddance to bad rubbish' and so on.

I get twinges of flashbacks and momentarily wish this nightmare was just that, a nightmare.  Yesterday as I read a book and it came to the scene of a wedding, I saw that moment in my head, when my father walked me down the aisle and it brought tears to my eyes.
There's a pragmatic side that knows this is for the best, the emotional side is just weak, and mourning the waste of years.  My life since marriage has been like a garden gradually overrun by a terrible weed (- that weed being my husband-) I tried for too long. 
How forgiving should one be ? 

I am looking forward to fresh scents, brighter days,  clean air, a smoother road, consistent calm - a peaceful garden for the four of us.

Like my blogs, I shall have to separate memories to store away those moments as they turn up - good, bad and ugly.

Mine only

No one can be there exactly 

where  I am or have been, 

it is uniquely mine. 

The feeling of fear and fearlessness 

at once beating at each other

in a realm of emotion

winding its way to free us,

the mess of impression and expression 

is wholly mine.

(HA 2010)

"The ship of my life may or may not be sailing on calm and amiable seas. The challenging days of my existence may or may not be bright and promising. Stormy or sunny days, glorious or lonely nights, I maintain an attitude of gratitude. If I insist on being pessimistic, there is always tomorrow.

Today I am blessed. "    

- Maya Angelou's  Letter to My Daughter

Thoughts ..guilt or failure

I have always attached strings to my father’s love. And know that I should not. I do not want to grieve him, and yet I feel I have.

I go about my business and my children’s, there is no story to pour out that has not come out in bits and parts over the past 2 years. It is done for me so I don’t talk about it.
How do I say ‘I don’t want you to worry’ and not get him more worried.

I am reminded, I have made him proud in many ways,
I know he does not fault me in this
and yet
still.

There will always be a part of my brain that remembers my mother's old-fashion thoughts, and that is a problem source. It's there but it doesn't dominate, just rears it's head from time to time.

I had done what I could on my own, I could not lean, I did not want to. That was for me.  Eventually I would have to stand on my own.
I held on for as long as it took.

I am relieved and sad.