I've been through enough inner work to know that when I am feeling judged it is really just me judging myself. And let's say that I'm wrong, that someone out there really is judging me, well shame on them. They can go fly a kite (or some such thing). But here I am feeling the need to justify, or explain some things away. Really, also, to dump out this Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout-sized pile of feelings onto a blank computer screen.
I do my best to disappear on the weekends. Emotionally and physically. I want to vacate my week life, set it down and come back in 48 hours. I wouldn't say single moms are heroes (it's not a dig, I just am not sure that's the right word for it), and I am hardly that 'single mom' anyone ever talks about, but it's f*cking hard and draining to sustain two rambunctious, thriving, needing people through a week without that other person struggling right along side me. And not just any other 'one'. The one who made them also. The actual only other person who can relate to them in the way I can, who can share a sideways glance with me that holds an entire story that we can giggle about without words passing.
And so I go. I am not around for hanging out. I am not around for work. I am not around to experience any parts of my weekday life. I really, really need to go away. I need to check out. It feels imperative to my survival.
And no, I won't be there with my kids at the weekend birthday parties. He will. I won't show up for those few hours to be there. I want to. I love the community, the family and love that is being with my tribe. But then I am back in my week. And my kids are too. If you knew the heartbreak that happens for my babies when I pop in for a moment of their weekend, you wouldn't question it. It sends them into a tailspin. Maybe not right away, or maybe in that moment. They aren't ready to deal with that. I am not going to require them to. They are still too raw. So am I.
And so I'm not there.
And guess what else?! Thursday I'm a free woman!! Divorced! Have I told how wrecked I am? How vulnerable, exposed and generally terrified I feel? I am coming up on a solid week of hovering on a meltdown. I can't see old baby photos without crying. I can't see or talk to Ethan without crying. I can't listen to someone gripe about their husband without crying. I can't listen to half the music on the radio without crying. The way that electric guitar hovered on that note a moment longer- crying. I am afraid if I really give in to the crying that is waiting for me, I'll be sucked into a deep pit and never be seen again.
You know what else is neat? Some horrid person thinks I should be over it. She thinks I am being dramatic and invasive. As if my own personal feelings of failure plus the impending doom I feel is waiting for my children as they grow in a broken home isn't plenty on it's own- no I want to stick myself in the midst of the relationship that f*cks with my brain the most. What a hilarious assumption. An entire third of my life was committed to this man. We created new human beings together with our bodies. We cried and loved and laughed and struggled and were in awe together.
How sad for her that she hasn't had that experience. Otherwise she wouldn't accuse me of being a horrible person for not being 'over it'.