Reality as Imagination

Zach is coping with the loss of family stability in his life, in so many ways, even though he's doing a marvelous job of retaining his happiness, openness and personality. 

While taking a walk tonight, Zach turns and says, "I won't want Momma to died". I immediately stop, go down on one knee and ask Zach if he needs a hug. "Zach, Momma's not going to die. Why are you afraid she's going to die?". "I just don't want her to die". I give him a big hug, reassuring him that she's not going to die. 

Ironically, later that night, Zach wanted to look at pictures of Momma as a little girl. We're paging through a photo album, and then come across photos of her own mother, who passed away around 9 years ago. Far too young to die, of a freak blood condition that was left untreated by a hospital, leading to her very unnecessary death. Zach hasn't really heard much about her up until this point, but of course, I had to address the fact that she had... died. Thereby invalidating exactly what I had been telling him an hour earlier, saying that Mommas don't die. Because sometimes they do. My own mother died when I was 6 1/2. 

Driving home, Zach then said that he wanted Momma to be a little girl. "I want Momma to be a little girl, and I'll be a little boy, and you'll take care of us". I asked him if he wanted this so we could all be together. "Yeah... actually, I want you to be a little boy and me to be a little boy, and Momma will take care of both of us". Clearly, Zach was trying to work out a way in his own head for all of us to be together. If it can't happen in real life, he would prefer to imagine an alternate version of life where we are a family again.

He also said that he loves me even when I’m a potato that’s being cooked. So take that for what it's worth.

Perspectives on Anger

I don't know when I'll fully be "over" my marriage. It will probably take years in many ways, though I think I'm doing a fairly good job coping these days.

I've been working to expell a lot of the anger that I have towards my ex. This is largely being done in therapy, something I was never all that psyched about doing, and have now ironically found real value in (yes, learning some lessons too late). We spent a session where I was prodded to let loose all those feelings that I'm aware of, but was forced to swallow during the attempts to build bridges and resuscitate a dead body of a relationship. Now releasing them, I sat there with tears pouring down my face, a litany of fury that seemed to last forever.

How angry over what she's done to Zach's future. How she never gave me a legitimate chance to fix things. How she never took her own, honest responsibility for the situation. For pretending that fixing the marriage was an option, whereas it clearly wasn't. For dragging out the pain to make herself feel better. For not standing up for herself until it was time for her to stand outside the marriage. For blaming me for her intrinsic dissatisfaction with life. For accusing me of being the source of her unhappiness, whereas I was her rock, her rescue. For thinking that our problems were that gigantic to begin with. For... giving up.

God, it felt good to say those aloud to someone, when they had been running around and around my grief-addled brain for months. This doesn't mean those feelings are gone, but having them out in the open was somehow so relieving. And there isn't anyone that I can really say these things to, because I have no interest in poisoning the air against my ex with people we both know. I'm not that kind of person; I am respectful to the people that I love.

The next week, we did something even more interesting. We discussed all the qualities I want in a partner, and then very objectively, laid out what my ex was, and what she was not. Both good and bad. Essentially creating a list that helps give a sense of where we just pulled apart.

Some things she was: exceptionally giving, incredibly smart and perceptive, emotionally evolved, thoughtful, selfless, funny, clever, beautiful. A great mother.

Some things she also was: financially irresponsible, discontented with her life, lacking self-esteem, incapable of forgiveness, always late, obsessive to a fault, and most importantly... unhappy. I don't think she was ever happy in her life, or in her marriage. Maybe she will be now. Clearly, I couldn't make her happy. But it wasn't my job to make her happy. If she can't do that herself after all these years, my weaknesses was not going to be the difference-maker.

This put into relief things a series of traits that I want in a mate: Self-confident. Professionally secure. Energetic. Upbeat. Optimistic. Able to tease and be teased. Attractive. Sexually confident. Open-minded. Smart. Thoughtful. Happy.

My ex was many of those things, but some of the big ones just wasn't part of her personality. This doesn't make her a bad person, or even flawed. It's just who she is. Obviously, I have (or lack) many qualities that she wanted in a mate. I hope that someday she will forgive me for lacking those. In learning to accept this, this helps to let go of the anger. Or at least give it some perspective.

When is it appropriate...?

When your marriage ends, when is the right time to start looking forward, rather than backwards?

In the early days, weeks and months, there's a constant state of self-examination, reproachment and self-hatred that comes out of the process. And you hate your (ex) partner too. On many days, it's debatable who you hate more - yourself or the other person. For myself, I spent the first couple of months hating myself, the next few months hating her, and now.... I'm just tired of hating.

I just want to be happy.

Certainly, this is easier said than done. Yes, my son makes me happy. I adore my time with him. At the same time, I know that something is missing from that time together. Yesterday he says to me, "Daddy, when momma comes over, I want to have a Family Hug". This is something we used to do together - a big circle, group hug. How do you tell your son that you're never going to have a trio group hug again? So I picked Zach up in a big, giant bear hug and said, "You're my family, Zach, and I love you". But it's hard when you don't have any balance with your child, someone else to help pick up the slack, to help keep the energy high and the enthusiasm flowing. Each of you are relegated to accomplishing this on your own. Granted, you only now have to do it half the time, but that doesn't make it much easier.

But I'm working on being happy, and I'm working on being balanced, flexible about what is coming my way every day, and being open-minded about the future. Yeah, it all scares me, and I'm generally terrified about things like dating, single parenthood, not having a support system, etc. But I'm managing that fear and trepidation better than in the past - even better than when I was married. I had a minor car accident last week, and it was even my fault, but I chose not to let it faze me. That's something that would've once left me in a tizzy for days.

So, I recently found myself on a date. A really nice one. Didn't go searching for it, and I don't know if I'm ready for that kind of a situation, but it happened, and I liked it. It made me feel good about myself for a bit. Looking forward to a second date.

Yet, somehow the ex managed to put a giant pin in that balloon. Unintentionally, I'm sure, but it still infuriates me, because I'm doing everything possible to be respectful of her feelings. I wouldn't want to know that she's dating, so I think it's thoughtful and considerate not to shove that in her face. "Hey, yeah I know it sucks being a single mother, struggling to pay the bills, having a crappy new apartment, etc, but guess what - I had a date with an awesome woman!". No, I'm not doing that at all.

It started amusingly, with the ex popping up on IM to ask me who so-and-so was on my Facebook page, writing on my "wall". "Why do you ask?", I respond. "Because I think she has a crush on you", the ex responds. Now, these are extremely innocuous little comments on my profile page, but the ex is nothing if not preturnaturally perceptive, to an almost scary extent. But I ignore the question and move onto other topics.

Later, however, she realizes that a Hollywood Bowl show I'm going to on Saturday (though does not know that I'm taking so-and-so) is a more "cultural" show of Iranian poetry, Yo-Yo Ma and Persian music. So this gets the ex's hair in a bundle because two years ago I didn't want to see some Spanish singer with her at UCLA. She bitches at me over a text message. I politely respond that going to the Bowl is not about her, and that I'm just having a social life. She responds to say that she doesn't understand that I'm now doing the things that "I made her feel shitty for wanting to do". Um, because I didn't go to a Mariza concert two years ago? And which I fully encouraged her to go. I didn't want to see that particular show, so sue me.

But somehow, inexplicably, these two events are now linked in her mind. Is she wondering who I am going with? Does she care? I don't know the answer to either question, but I would do her a disservice to think that it never occurred to her to wonder who I'm going with. So I politely respond via text (defending yourself over text message is plainly absurd, but it was also a way to keep the conversation contained) that, again, this is not about her. I state that this year she had done an exceptional job making me feel like I wasn't an interesting or good person. Just like she says I made her feel. But I am a good person, and neither one of us want to feel that way. Going to the Hollywood Bowl is not a referendum on our relationship, nor is it an assault on her. It's just an attempt to have a social life. It's not worth mentioning that it's also an attempt to have a wonderful second date. Yet, the ex is so perceptive and clever that I wouldn't doubt if she already knows this.

So, somehow she's managed to make me feel shitty and guilty about something I shouldn't possibly feel shitty or guilty about. I haven't done anything wrong!

But it brings up the question: when is it appropriate to put yourself out there again? Are the rules different when you are the dumper versus the dumpee? As the one who was left, don't I pretty much have free rein to do whatever the hell I want without question, judgment or repercussion? Especially when this whole year has been playing by the rules that she started?Now when I'm trying to find and have a slice of happiness, she's  trying to take control of that. Now, I don't at all think it's intentional on her part, but it's rather thoughtless regardless, and I resent being made to feel like I've done something wrong, when I've being what I would consider excessively thoughtful about the whole thing.

I will not let her co-opt this moment. I don't know what it's a moment of, other than of hope. We all need a little hope.

Going through a divorce - though I'm not even officially on that page yet - is a astonishingly debilitating experience from a self-esteem perspective. It doesn't help that I spent most of this year receiving a litany of blame for the failings of my marriage. And while I certainly committed many sins of omission, and had my moments of thoughtlessness and carelessness, I didn't create all of the failings that ultimately did in our marriage. It was a combination of both of our behaviors, and factors on each side. But I've spent most of this year taking the blame, acknowledging it and internalizing that, which takes a massive toll on your self-image, self-esteem, etc.

Needless to say, you go through this process, and you start to wonder... am I lovable? Can anyone even be interested in me, attracted to me, wanting to spend time with me? It's a terrifying situation, and it doesn't help being a single father with a solid, but not groundbreaking, career. Yeah, I do okay, but I'm not jetting off to Cabo on the weekends, and I'm going to suffer the indignity of even having to sell my condo in this horrible market to get through the divorce.

So, it's certainly not a time when you feel very good about yourself.

Meanwhile, there's a woman I know, who I casually asked out for drinks. With no overt agenda, but deep down, from the time I met her I had a crush on her. There was something about the way she looked at the world - with an amazingly well-rounded point of view, and an inquisitiveness and energy, that was captivating. Yes, she's beautiful as well, but it wasn't even that. It was her energy. She's the kind of person you feel you could disagree with, and she wouldn't take it personally. She's someone that I feel energized to be around.

So she agreed to go out for drinks, and in the back of my mind, I was hoping we'd get along, so I could have the courage to ask her out. Expecting, of course, that I would be turned down. Because that's what I've come to believe about myself, not to mention the fact that I haven't asked a woman out in 12 years, and the last one I did married me (then again, shouldn't that be a positive sign, rather than a negative?). But we went out for drinks, and got along fabulously, and midway through the night she made reference to "our first date". 

Cue contrived needle scratching a record sound effect.

Wait, this is our first date?

I couldn't believe it. Not only were we over the ask-her-out-the-first-time hurdle, but moreover, she wanted to be here on the date. And she was having a good time. Maybe I was even charming, or likable, or attractive. And at the end of the (what I now understand to be the first) date, she wanted to go out again. A brief kiss goodnight. 

And I can't even express what a pleasure it was to have a first date with someone who I not only enjoyed spending time with, but also made me feel good about myself. Yes, a very selfish emotional need, but I think there are times when we all need that.

I am, but I'm not

Today was my wedding anniversary. 8 years. Except she all but ended the marriage 5 months ago.

A piece of paper says I'm married. Nothing else does.

If you're married in a forest, does anyone notice?

Are other people debilitated by the knowledge that you should do something, are supposed to do something, and NEED to do something... but you don't do it? I'm in that place.

A major life turning point, and the onus appears to be on me to do something, but I can't pull the trigger. Because I know that it will irreparably change my life, and as far as I can see it, not the better.

It's kind of like the moment before you jump out of a plane. Except the point of jumping out of a plane is the rush, the fun, the excitement (I've done it, so I can relate to that). This is the exact opposite: there's nothing but dread, and fear, and uncertainty on the other side.

But when is enough enough? What about the uncertainty that I'm living with? Is that worse? It makes me think that I wouldn't do well with coping with the onset of a major disease - because I am better off in the uncertainty, where I can will myself to believe that things might turn around from being dire, even when the evidence is piling up that it won't.

I should do it. But I can't.