Got a little encouragement to come back and blog.
The story so far . . .
JC had a major relapse. It was bad enough that she left. As in left. Me, the kids, everything, just . . . left. For three days, I spent every waking moment trying to find her, even when there was nothing I could productively do.
It shredded me.
The kids, too, but this is about me, because I get to make something about me.
It shredded me so badly, I took two months off of work on disability. I am back on antidepressants, which I hate, and do not agree with my body.
I have returned to work.
I have also taken control of my situation and the protection of my kids by initiating divorce proceedings. It is set to be final on the 24th of February. 22 days after our 12th anniversary. I'm sure there is something poetic about that, but I'm not sure what. Possibly that we got married on 2/2/02, so 22 days past is nice and round.
I am happy that I am back in control. It makes me sad that I am happy.
But right now, that's not what I'm really feeling. What I'm really feeling is anger.
Why? Because JC is getting a volunteer position. And that doesn't provide enough hours, so she is also getting a part time job.
Should that anger me? Probably not, right? It's a step in the right direction, it's responsibility.
So, why the anger?
Where was this desire for responsibility and doing things when she came home here? Why couldn't she channel this into keeping house? I know keeping house isn't sexy. So the fuck what? I have to do it all the time now on top of my full time job. It's a pain in the ass. But it's part of being a responsible person, a responsible parent.
I am so fucking pissed.
I have been burying my feelings about this for a long time. Tonight, I'm too tired after 2.5 hours of dancing and a couple shots of scotch whiskey to bury feelings.
Is it fair? Fuck no. But then, neither was RUNNING AWAY FROM YOUR RESPONSIBILITIES.
The carnage in this home is immense. I've had to do everything to keep it together, including keeping my anger at bay, and not blaming JC for things to my kids' faces.
But this is fucking ridiculous.
"Oh, be so proud of me for getting a job and doing volunteer work!" You want a fucking cookie? That's what you're SUPPOSED to do! Only, now, apparently, it's possible, where before it was completely beyond the pale. Hell, getting her off the couch and off Facebook and working on the home was a challenge. Now? "I'm getting a part time job, aren't you happy?" Must be fucking nice, being able to just make those decisions without a care. Me? I'm terrified that my job is in jeopardy, that I'm never going to be able to get back up to snuff, that the nanny I hired is going to kidnap my children when I'm traveling and sell them to sex traffickers (not likely, of course, but thanks to the national news and Hollywood, anyone with an accent is apparently suspicious). I don't get to make grand choices like, should I get a temp job or not?
I get to hoe this fucking row, whether I like it or not, because I'm a goddamn parent, and when you take on that responsibility, life suddenly becomes more than just about you.
I know JC is upset that I'm cutting her out of parenting and decision making. I know she'll be upset when she finds out I took our eldest shopping for training bras (!!!). I know she'll be upset when she finds out that our middle child's cries of "homesick" are really code for, "I have complex emotions about my mother and I don't know how to express them safely to her, because I'm afraid she'll run away again because of me." I know she's upset that the entire conscious memory that our youngest has is, "Mommy is always sick and comes and goes, and I don't really care enough to be upset, because it's just normal Mommy."
So, of course, I'm probably the bad guy because I'm angry that this is the best that JC can do. Fuck it. I'm already the bad guy for divorcing a mentally ill spouse, so what the fuck do I care?