Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Tuesday, April 09, 2013
Imagine, An Emotional Dump
(This is an emotional dump and catch-up to the divorce posts, so feel free to skip.)
Imagine, for a moment, that you daughter has just turned seventeen. Imagine she took and passed her test and has been a licensed driver for about a week when you buy her a brand new used car the day before Easter. (It'd been planned for a while; she got a job at the local amusement park for the summer.) Best parent in the world. And the very next day, in a sudden bottleneck on the highway, in something you could not have possibly avoided, you crash into that new car of hers while she is driving, rendering both un-drive-able. (We are both okay.)
And the following day you get the sore throat intro to the worst cold you've had in years.
And the following day you find out two of your credit card numbers were stolen - probably in-person where you used it - and your personal and business accounts have been frozen.
Imagine also that your 11-year marriage (that has been decided it was moving towards dissolution of marriage about two years ago) was finally coming to a head and since you couldn't hold onto the house solo, you're going to be the one moving out. Oh, and your spouse started kinda dating some guy a couple weeks ago - and thinks that's an okay thing.
So right now, imagine you're looking at apartments because you're moving out of a 6-year home and 11-year marriage in less than 90 days, trying to consider all the pieces that go with moving, with filing with the court, with becoming alone (and learning how to love yourself) again (if you ever knew), how 11 years of marriage will split in bills and books and insurance and furniture and your daughter's time, stemming a rising tide of depression, holding a job, sorting out how you're going to pay for anything, pushing due diligence in research for the purchase of your new used car which NEEDS to happen in the next week - all while closing off the anger of your spouse dating and blowing lung cookies out your nose while attending rehearsals for the local play you're headlining in a month.
Sometimes we have black clouds. This has been my last two weeks.
Sorry, but I warned you it was a dump.
Imagine, for a moment, that you daughter has just turned seventeen. Imagine she took and passed her test and has been a licensed driver for about a week when you buy her a brand new used car the day before Easter. (It'd been planned for a while; she got a job at the local amusement park for the summer.) Best parent in the world. And the very next day, in a sudden bottleneck on the highway, in something you could not have possibly avoided, you crash into that new car of hers while she is driving, rendering both un-drive-able. (We are both okay.)
And the following day you get the sore throat intro to the worst cold you've had in years.
And the following day you find out two of your credit card numbers were stolen - probably in-person where you used it - and your personal and business accounts have been frozen.
Imagine also that your 11-year marriage (that has been decided it was moving towards dissolution of marriage about two years ago) was finally coming to a head and since you couldn't hold onto the house solo, you're going to be the one moving out. Oh, and your spouse started kinda dating some guy a couple weeks ago - and thinks that's an okay thing.
So right now, imagine you're looking at apartments because you're moving out of a 6-year home and 11-year marriage in less than 90 days, trying to consider all the pieces that go with moving, with filing with the court, with becoming alone (and learning how to love yourself) again (if you ever knew), how 11 years of marriage will split in bills and books and insurance and furniture and your daughter's time, stemming a rising tide of depression, holding a job, sorting out how you're going to pay for anything, pushing due diligence in research for the purchase of your new used car which NEEDS to happen in the next week - all while closing off the anger of your spouse dating and blowing lung cookies out your nose while attending rehearsals for the local play you're headlining in a month.
Sometimes we have black clouds. This has been my last two weeks.
Sorry, but I warned you it was a dump.
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