The Dreams In Which I’m Dying Are The Best I Ever Had
Posted on March 10th, 2011 in Emotional Angst, Featured, Mating And Relating, Three's Company
There is plenty to report, but not much that I am willing to say. Unfortunately, it may remain so for quite some time.
Aiden has moved out, and now I divide my time between his place and what now feels like Jack’s house. My schedule generally involves work, picking up the kids from school, doing homework with them, making them supper, eventually tucking them in, and then going to Aiden’s to make my lunch for the following day, throw in some laundry, take a shower, and then head to bed. Weekends are a little less repetitive, but we haven’t yet worked out a rotation of who-has-the-kids.
I changed positions at work, and moved into a full-time spot (I was part-time previously). Aiden is no longer my supervisor, which is perhaps for the best. I think I will really like my new department, and my new supervisor is extremely trusting in my ability to get things done with minimal input from himself, which I like. Full-time also means more money in the bank, which is important now that I actually have to support myself for the first time in almost a decade.
It’s terrifying and hard and depressing, but it’s also sort of liberating and satisfying at the same time. When Jack and I were first together I struggled with feeling like I didn’t really contribute because I didn’t work or pay the bills. I was resentful, off and on, of giving up any hopes of a career while raising younglings. Yes, I worked some over the years, and for a while I had that same liberated, satisfied feeling.
It’s strange and sometimes uncomfortable to have to operate within a rather restricted budget (hopefully only for the time being, until better employment comes along for either Aiden or myself). I became accustomed to a rather cushy lifestyle, and although I still retain ownership over a vast number of objects, I no longer enjoy the luxury of things like eating out, purchasing clothing or other extras on a whim, or driving hither and yon with no thought to how much gas I might be burning.
While there are times when it’s difficult and aggravating, I’ve also come to appreciate the finer things in life in a way I haven’t in many years. When I *do* get to eat out, I don’t take it for granted. I make more conscious choices when it comes to where I spend my grocery money (which is not only beneficial to my wallet, but my waistline). I don’t waste money on frivolous items that serve no real purpose. I’ve learned better methods of managing money, keeping a written budget, and saving for things I want rather than just buying them immediately. It certainly ensures that I prioritize.
I read an article sometime ago regarding ones satisfaction level when something, like a vacation, had to be scrimped and saved for, rather than paid for with little to no impact to ones finances. Apparently many people report feeling a greater sense of enjoyment and satisfaction when their trip had to be earned and planned for over a period of time, as opposed to those who could afford to travel on a whim. I have no idea if that’s true for everyone, but I am beginning to understand what they meant. I’ve only been living on a reduced budget for a month and some, but my perspective is changing.
Jack and I continue to struggle with relating to each other, and keeping things civil. It seems as though we rotate between good days, bad days, and days when I wish the earth would open up and swallow me. Our trust in each other has been eroded to the point where neither of us feel that we can put much stock in the other. I hope that changes with time. It’s difficult to endure what I perceive as his intense dislike for me, and I am certain it is just as difficult for him. There are times when I look at him, and I’m not even certain that I know him at all.
Separation changes people.
We’ve become bitter and filled with resentment and anger. There are times when we have been so truly ugly towards each other, I’m not sure I recognize either of us anymore. I’ve been cruel and malicious in ways that I wouldn’t dream of inflicting on my worst enemy, let alone a man that I once loved more than anything. It never begins that way, but it seems as though when conflict arrives, rather than acting as sensible adults, we are reduced to rabid, snarling animals.
I want so badly for us to be able to work together, for the benefit of our children, who are totally innocent in all of this. I hope that we can come to some sort of understanding, and move forward in a more positive way.
For the time being, it feels dangerous to hope for anything beyond good days eventually outnumbering the bad ones.