Sunday, April 6, 2008

My Part

So part of this whole Sense-of-Self thing (for me, anyway) has been taking ownership of my part. After the Open Letter episode (which has now been taken off the air, thank you very much) I felt better. I really really did.

And then I didn't.

What if we get back together? Wow... my friends will think I'm a HUGE Jackass after airing all that dirty laundry! Well, that was the purpose of going public right? To be held accountable. Still... I wondered... what if? So then, as part of my old, scary, codependent cycle, I fell back into making excuses for him and blaming myself.

So much for My New Self.

Darn... I felt so weak and powerless, and then just sick about that cycle repeat. Shoot! I was doing so well. Fortunately, it wasn't a complete setback. I started to see my part in this whole thing. So here goes:

~I can be pretty stubborn when it comes to things I think I deserve... like that Kirby. Damn thing can airspray paint! Did you know that?

~I whine when he flies all the time. Did I mention I KNEW he was a pilot when I married him?

~I pout when we don't do active stuff together. This one is a toss up. When we were first married, we used to go power walking all the time. Then I had the baby and she would always get the sniffles when we came back from the beach, so since there were no sidewalks anywhere else in town *ahem* I stopped walking and blamed my weight gain on his lack of support. Which is sort of true... but not entirely.

Stupid stuff like that used to get us both so blown up. Kind of like the toothpaste-cap argument. Obviously, things got worse and worse over the years. Without any guidance on the communication front, we started letting those annoying little behaviors become huge elephants in every room until we were doing pretty mean things to each other. We didn't cope well. We didn't talk. We just took to our separate coping mechanisms and limped along.

We were ugly with denial.

The worst thing that I have to regret about it all (and this is the biggest part of My Part) was that I expected him to be someone he was not. I wanted an apple... I really really wanted an apple. So why did I complain when I walked over to the orange tree on my own volition and picked an orange? Did I think an orange would magically transform into an apple if I held it and wished long and hard enough? If I did everything in my power to sweeten, cajole, persuade this orange to become that apple? I think, too, he might have expected ME to be someone I was not... or was not capable of being. We both reached for something that was more a mirage than reality. The mirage kept us hopeful, but the reality kept popping in to shake us back awake.

For now we are separated behaving kindly towards each other and handling our adult obligations like business partners. We are married by law only, it seems. So now what? I have no idea. I do know that the clock isn't going to stop ticking, the earth isn't going to stop spinning, and the pages of the calendar will not cease flying off month after month. There is still the Living thing that needs to happen. I still have children to raise and guide. I still have photos to shoot and copy to write. I have invitations to accept, kindnesses to acknowledge, books to read, and trails to climb. I don't know what will happen with my marriage. I do know that I have a lot to accomplish tomorrow. And that's about all I can take care of for now. I hate to say this but...

One day at a time.

...

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

C, Ann Landers has nothing over you. Get published, you're a revenue stream waiting to happen.

Anonymous said...

You are absolutely an amazing writer. What you are going through is typical in society today so thanks for sharing!

Sugar said...

So I have to add... although I am still owning up to my part, I am very clearly understanding that my marriage has to end. Getting back together is not an option because my husband will continue to choose his bachelor life over the family life. He admitted that today. Now, the only "my part" that I have to let go of is the part that keeps holding on to hope.