TheBanyanTree: Feeling My Emotions

[Pat Martin]

I can't write; I simply can't write at this time.  I've tried and tried but
I can't finish anything I start.  I have pages of stories that I have
walked away from.

I'm in transition; I've separated from my husband Andrew after 24 years of
marriage.  It has been a long time coming.  The straw that broke the camel's
back?  When he commiserated with my brother by email (and cc'd me) about
how selfish I had become for wanting to do volunteer work in Central
America.

Today, Andrew is working in a city hundreds of miles away and I'm in our
home in small town, BC, Canada.  I tried to sell the house when I returned
from Guatemala but have taken it off the market until Spring. I don't want
to have to move in Winter, so, for now, my life is on 'pause'.

I'm doing all the right things to ward off depression (but still it lurks).
I volunteer at the library checking books in and out, and at Public Health,
weighing and measuring babies before their shots.  I get together with women
friends often and go for long, healthy walks.  I'm attending a course on
naturopathic remedies and am starting an online course called, "Listen to 
Your Heart
and Success will Follow."  I am filling in pages and pages of forms to apply 
for
enhanced security clearance so that I can volunteer at the Victim's 
Assistance
Program out of the RCMP office.

I need to make a plan for the rest of my life, or at least set some goals.
Will I return to Central America or will I take some courses so that I
can work in a 'helping' profession here in Canada?  Where will I move
when the house sells?  How do I decide on a fair division of assets when
the time comes to look at the financial aspect of separation?

But through all this, I am grieving many other things.  I'm in perimenopause
and am grieving the loss of my youth and my looks.  When I look in the
mirror, I see that I am becoming 'old' and I don't like it.   I don't like
the saggy skin under my chin and the crow's feet around my eyes.  Jobs
aren't as easy to find for an 'older person', I've discovered.

I'm grieving too that I only had one child and it is too late to have more,
and that I only experienced the desire to have children usual to young women
when I neared my fiftieth birthday.  How ironic.

I'm sad because the abuse I experienced as a child has made my life an 
uphill
climb. It has been hard work believing I have value.  On a rational level I 
know
I have many good qualities; on an emotional level, I still experience 
considerable self-doubt.
I've spent a good portion of my life trying to be perfect in order to be 
worthy of love.  I have
wasted so much time trying to achieve the impossible.

I'm sad because I have given so much of myself to my family of origin, 
supporting them
in every possible way when they needed me, and I realize that they still are
not there to support me.

For a long time, my emotions were numb; I'm 'feeling' now and shedding many 
tears.

I can't imagine ever wanting a relationship with a man again.

Andrew, on the other hand, is actively involved in a singles' club and is 
dating.
Good for him, and I really mean that.  He's moving on; I'm still trying to 
find a
direction, a vista, that feels right.