I’ve slept the last couple of nights, no school run as its the weekend and I am feeling better. For now. I’ll take for now though 🙂
Its a week today since the last big blow out, when I found out – well, it was midnight, so technically tomorrow, and Wednesday when he messaged saying he was in bits, needed to withdraw from everything to sort his shit out. And nothing since.
This is the last big cancer piece, hopefully forever. As in, The Man was such an integral part of my cancer, treatment and recovery that sorting this out one way or another is synonymous for me with the end of this chapter of my life. Not saying of course that the next chapter will not be related – of course it will – but rather this is the last heavy piece. Actually, as I type, he hasn’t been part of my recovery and therein probably lies everything. He couldn’t/wouldn’t step into my recovery – as I started getting well, he started retreating and escaping.
It would be easy to say he was there for my cancer, thank you Universe, and thats it. But that really sits badly with me – perhaps because it would be a terrible and all too common cliche. I don’t know. But I am not comfortable with that thinking or rationale right now.
I need to start focussing on what I need – ironic statement! And its weird, because I have a fear that if I start doing that, I will lose him. Because I will shut down and move on. Obviously I know focussing on me is healthy, blah blah, but I also know my capacity to shut down and never fully resolve things like hurt, let down and love. As the days go past it would be easier and easier for me to think OK, Kenya with the kids from 9th August, back here 27th August, kids leave (aaagggghhhh!!) for Northern Ireland 29th August and I go to Thailand a day or two after that. Ho hum, no room for him or anything else.
Right now I feel like I need a middle ground – not to hang around feeling disempowered and waiting for him, but also not to move on like a steam train and shut him out completely. I am not at the latter yet, but I know myself, and that switch can get flicked on overnight. The 2 extremes – hurting, feeling powerless, in a pit or kick ass, ‘fuck you’ and forging forwards. I don’t know the middle because I have never done that before.
Its a control thing – the shut down is a protection and a taking of control – but to the extreme and a part of me inside goes hard and stays shut down when I do that. I was single for 7 years after I left Brian.
Back after dealing with yet another meltdown from one child…obviously the whole move/transition is tough on them…and exhausting for me and Hayley. Literally every day involves a meltdown or extended emotional outburst from one, at best, both at worst….
So, theme for the day, middle ground….lets see can I do that – I honestly have no idea what that looks like in this case so pretty difficult to do…but the intention is out.
Walk with me 
When things were pretty tough and C was sick, I used to visualise myself on a thin plank of wood,extended out over the ledge of a skyscraper. I never could see where the plank was headed. All I knew was that I needed to keep putting one foot in front of the other, not look down, not try and turn around and not worry about where I was going. I had to stay on it and to do that, I had to keep putting one foot in front of the other.
it was a good way of holding on to sanity and as you put it, finding a way to stay on the middle ground. No left, no right, no up, no down, just keeping moving forward at whatever pace was manageable.
It doesn’t stay like that forever, but when holding on was very hard, it helped.
x
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you – a great analogy, if that is the right word…on my first cup of coffee.. My urge is, of course, to keep jumping off the plank so I can definitely work with this!
LikeLike
I am a stranger to Middle Ground, also. And therein lies some of my past mistakes. To move on and shut down was a tool I learned over the years, and it felt empowering to me. So, like you, I would be in the rawness of my pain and, having had more than enough of it, the “switch” would flip and I would move on. Immediately and without thought. I have a feeling that, by doing just that, I missed out on a lot of the in-between and was so focused on forging ahead, mostly to escape the paralyzing pain, I didn’t see my markers on the road, so to speak. In my case, that meant repeating the same mistakes, over and over (and over) again. I am in a place right now where my life is changing and I am trying to go through the actual process of change and stay in the moment. It is an unfamiliar place for me, but there is a comfort and safety in it, too. I do allow myself to plan ahead (because, in my case, I have to), but once I start feeling overwhelmed, it’s back to the moment and trying to respectfully recognize the feelings I have and (in my case) not take them out on the people around me. You have a ton of change going on in your life, never mind your journey over the past year, and you need to plan (for your children), which you have done, and you need to honour what and who you are, and where you are in your life. From your blog alone, I see HUGE changes in you in this regard. Incredible and powerful changes. Sometimes, life is incredibly hurtful and uncomfortable. But if I open my eyes enough, I also see the joy that’s there every day. Whether that be an expression in my child’s face, or a sunset, or a moment of calm that is gifted to me, it helps me see the balance that is there for me, every day, should I choose to recognize it. Apologies for my response post, which is a very long one and nearly constitutes as a blog post….:) XXXX
LikeLiked by 1 person
Please don’t apologise and thank you :-). Its great to read and to be reminded of the minute at a time and the joy. And the empathy for the shut down – so bloody easy to do, yet you pay for it for so long.
LikeLike