The Divorce Cometh, Man

(This is personal and not happy. You have been warned. Go away if you like. But come back. Van murals tomorrow.)


Ah, patient readers, you may recall this gem from two years ago - OMFG, it's been two years? - wherein I divulged that Mrs. Shambles and I had settled on divorce after growing apart and being at a dead standstill on either side of the fence about having a(nother) child.

Give it a look if you don't remember or haven't been around that long. Good read for a horribly depressing monstrosity of a life event.

And it gets even stranger-worse!

As we have not paid down our debt and have gone two years, we have lived in a relatively copacetic, visually emotionless void. For Little Shambles, of course. Big events that have happened since that post have been the passing of Mrs. Shambles's mother (only 60) and our ten year anniversary, both weathered with ---

FUCK!

Sorry, not even sure what the hell I'm trying to convey or vent here.

Brass tacks: last month we talked again, pinned down that we were still in those same places - although even more distant now - and now that Mrs. Shambles is back to work and my contracts are getting more lucrative, we may or may not be divorcing in the next year. Might wait until Little Shambles is done with HS in two years. Might not. For as much as Mrs. Shambles hit me up with being uncommunicative or too hard to engage during these past two years on the handful of times she did engage, when I pushed the issue, she had apparently not been sitting on a bunch of planning.

We did talk plainly, which was kind of nice. The impasse is far too wide and deep for a bridge. We are going to do our own thing (and have been for a while). And Bee-Tee-Dubs, what makes me happy?

It's no surprise to anyone that with my history of depression and this weirdness have left me completely perplexed at the answer to what should be a pretty down to Earth question. But ...I'm not sure. I have things I like, but in this situation I can sometimes only dwell on the fact that I LOVE making other people happy and how - when it came down to it - it was my selfishness that would not allow me to do that one thing for the person I loved most.

(Really, I only think about it in those terms on occasion. Totally in a healthy way. Right?)

So I continue to live in the void. The "I love yous" are ghosts if I hear them at all. Even texting I love yous quickly turned to KKKs (kisses, you racist), and then burned out like the cross on your lawn. Kisses on the lips? Nil. Sex? Can't remember when.

Communication, especially in the last couple months, has not just shriveled up but started pushing into disrespect. I'm a patient all-kindsa-zenny guy, but my lean is going from "let's just get through what we must" to "seriously, you live on your goddamned Blackberry but you can't even answer a text or two a day?" And it's not over "OMG work iz hard" but "Hey, I'm making dinner about six, is that good?" and not getting an answer until 7. Or 10.

And our daughter doesn't know. And her dad and my folks don't know. And it goes on. We haven't worn our wedding rings in over a year.


SO I guess my bullshit post here is more for venting than anything else. Not much progress, a little more frustration, and a lot more "What the Hell?" Sorry if that's disappointment.


I don't know. Maybe next week I'll tell you how it's all my fault because every major relationship in my life has ended this way: they just get longer. Or not. Because that would be defeatist. And I only think about it in those terms on occasion. Totally in a healthy way. Right?


ADDENDUM:
I've got that emotional hangover feeling after posting this yesterday. I'm not going to make any changes besides this add, though, as it accurately reflected the breakfast burrito explosion that I sometimes experience in the midst of emotional turmoil, threshold, and a coating of insomnia from inheriting my mother's propensity to imagine the worst possible outcome.

Truth is, writing bubbled it to the surface again and Mrs. Shambles and I had another candid talk, which was good. In the coming weeks, we're going to get finances and budgets nailed down, we're going to come up with a plan to talk to Little Shambles, and take the rest as it comes. She'll be more communicative and I'll be more patient. With a house neither of us could afford on our own, we'll probably be sticking it out until LS goes to college in two years, perhaps opting for a legal separation before the official divorce - legal research is also on the docket.

Anyway, with over 1500 posts, there are only a handful of them that directly relate to me and only me - hell, even my gout posts were at least curiously informative. So, again, thanks for reading, and thank you for your patience.

Now how about some van murals?