I feel like I'm that character Edward Norton plays in the movie, "Fight Club". No, not the psychotic insomniac part, but the part where he talks about his job. If you haven't seen them movie, he is a traveling accident recall specialist. He goes to wrecks and what not and analyzes them. I've been doing that with my marriage, soon to be divorce and my entire life. It's all been playing on some old timey projector, the kind that makes the click click click noises. I'm strapped to some uncomfortable theater chair as 1994 comes into view. We were so in love and we had endless discussions and even more things in common. We were young and fearless; ready to take on the world and God, the sex was, well it was something. That's the thing I'm learning, we had this intense physical relationship all the way up until after I got pregnant with our daughter. It didn't decrease right off but our relationship was very very much a physical one. I sucked at

    I'm more at peace with the end of my marriage than I was at the beginning of all of this. It doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt, it still is very much painful. I have a few job prospects which is better than what I had a week ago. I've had some people reach out to me; single parents who have been either in my shoes or close to it. The support has been great from everyone. I have to say that when something like this happens, there really is a grief process. I have gone through each stage at least twice now. I no longer try to question, "Why did this happen to me?" or "How could he do this to me?" It is what it is. We're hurting each other by going back and forth. I'm never going to get the answers I need and it's only going to cause more problems with us being able to help our children get through this because let's face it, this isn't just about me and my broken heart; their hearts have to matter and take priority. I do not wan

    Saturday I crawled out of bed while my son was still asleep. I went to the bathroom and went through the routine of holding one of my husband's shirts and crying, covering my mouth so that my son could still sleep undisturbed. This has become the routine. After I got myself together, I turned on my phone and my husband had texted me that he wanted to see our boy today. Since my husband's truck is not running well, I offered to bring our son to him and pick him up when he was ready for him to come home. Home, it sounds so funny to still call this house that but it is what it is; a house.      I found myself excited because I knew how much our son really needed to spend time with his dad. The past four days had been really hard for him. Our boy had been overly agitated, aggressive, mad, sad, and let's face it, he's missed his dad. So when my husband was ready for him to come over, I got our son up and got him dressed in a new short outfit I had purchased last week

Today, I'm angry. I'm angry that we still cannot communicate. I hate that everything I say is misconstrued or I have some past infraction thrown in my face when I don't throw any in his face. I'm angry that my son since all this started never got a phone call and I have been the only one picking up the pieces of his broken heart. I am angry that my boy who looked forward to summer for months, is now acting out because he's hurt, angry, and confused. I'm angry that my husband gets to just walk out and break our home because of something he's either feeling or not feeling when none of the rest of us get that card.  I couldn't be that heartless or callous as to break up my home because I'm not happy about something, and there have been times when I felt unhappy but I sucked it up and worked through it. I found happiness in other ways such as taking better care of my home and taking more active roles in my children's lives, and even my hus

           Since he left, I've had a lot of time to think. Actually, think is all I pretty much do. I went to my first initial counseling session, kind of like a prelim kind of deal. There was a quick overview of getting to know yous and services I will be provided with, then I had to speed through 21 years of my life and the last two weeks. Since he's left, I've tried to respect his space and while hoping that we could reconnect, we've just found ourselves arguing. My emotions are raw and I'm hanging on by threads. I'm trying to be angry because maybe I wouldn't hurt so much if I could just get really angry! I mean, it's working pretty well for him. Everything seems to disgust him about me. The more days that pass that I don't have a job (I've had interviews though) and the more time that we're not communicating, the worse it gets. Perhaps I just need to face the fact that maybe there is nothing to save. What does that say about me

  The past seven days have been the hardest and worst in my life. I thought the hardest thing I would ever deal with was the deaths of both my grandparents, my grandmother being the hardest to face, but this has trumped that, well next to when my son laid for 6 days in a near coma state at Riley. I've laid all my cards out. I've begged, cried, prayed, and tried to find some way to convince him to stay, and now I have to stop. It doesn't mean I give up. It doesn't mean that I agree with his decision. It doesn't mean that I have lost hope for a reconciliation. It just means that I have to face this and find a way for me and my son to be happy with the situation, and I want my husband to be happy too. We still have to be parents to our son and misery isn't going to help anyone, least of all our boy. I still am going to need counseling for this. There is no way I'm going to be able to get through what is to come if I don't have someone to help me through i